White Out Reloaded

Jeff, Somala, Rachel and I drove up to his house in Tahoe last friday, and saturday morning we had a sense of deja vu -- the cars and the driveway were buried in snow, and once again, highway 50 was closed. We had breakfast at a little hole-in-the-wall, and then went back to the house. At that point Dean, who had met up with us on the drive up, suggested jumping off the roof.

We looked at the roof, and at the deep snow banks off to the side, and it seemed reasonable, so we got multiple people filming as Dean and Jeff climbed up on the roof, strapped on their snowboards, and rode down the roof and off the side.

After a few runs, we retired inside to variously read (me) and watch football (everyone else). Jeff, Dean, and Somala went out later for another run at jumping off the roof, but couldn't convince Rachel or I (who were now warm and dry) to venture back out.

Saturday night we went into the casinos for dinner, which were indescribably dead. There were a few players around the blackjack tables and a person every now and then playing slots, but overall it felt like we were about to get kicked out by the cleaning crews.

Sunday morning we got up and got packed just in case the road (which was closed) opened up at some point. At around 9:30 Jeff walked up to me and said something like "El camino es abuerta", which I eventually figured out meant highway 50 was open. We packed everyone into Jeff's new Tundra and Dean's unstoppable lifted F150, drove to Sierra, and parked in the nearly-empty lot D.

Someday, when there are old snowboarders, they will sit around on the porch and swap stories that start something like "I remember the storm that hit in the winter of 2005..." Sunday was that good. It was still snowing pretty good, and there was a little wind, but not enough of either to detract from the conditions. We rode continuously from 11 until 2, cutting fresh tracks down the middle of every run. We broke for a quick lunch, then went back up (sans Somala, who was having a tough time with the powder on her short board). Our first run after lunch was dissapointing, since the front of the mountain was bumpy and choppy, so we headed back to West Bowl.

By the time we got there, we were almost burnt. We took one run down to the bottom, and afterwards Dean, Rachel and I were all spent. On my last run I was in danger of getting buried because my right quad was about to give out. Jeff wanted to do one more run, so I took the truck keys and we headed back to the lodge.

I started up the truck and managed to peel out of my snowboarding gear without getting the truck filled with snow. Jeff showed up 15 minutes later saying his legs almost gave out on the last run, and he had to ride the trees because the chopped-up main run would have worn him out.

We pulled out of the lot at 3:30, and managed to get back to San Jose by 7:30, which gave me just barely enough time to drive home, pull out my snowboarding gear, pack my hockey back, shove the bag and my sticks in the car, and drive to the ice rink for my 8:15 game -- only to find that the game was cancelled (no ice).

Probably better that way, because this morning my right leg is so sore I was having trouble walking up stairs.