It was snowing on Saturday when H went up to Alta, unable to stand not skiing for a moment longer. (I did not go, feeling slightly under the weather; B and I ran some errands instead and then cuddled up on the couch watching season 5 of Dexter on DVD.) The drive up and down Little Cottonwood Canyon was - he reported - pretty sketchy. It was raining down in the valley and then abruptly turned to snow about a quarter of the way up. It took him about an hour to get up there, driving very carefully and noting the four down-canyon cars that had slid off the pavement. But once he got up there, where it was snowing like crazy, he had a great day. There weren't very many people up there to start, between the slow road and the whole people-don't-like-to-ski-in-snowstorms thing, but there was 9+ new inches of snow. Heavy and wet, but still snow and still coming down. It snowed all day and H was soaked when he got home - and very happy, proclaiming it the best ski day of the year. [Note: that superlative wouldn't last long.]
The most awesome part? The ice beard that attached itself to H's face. People in the lift-lines were very impressed and one guy even asked if he could take a picture. Apparently some little kids stared at him in the lodge when he chipped it off at lunchtime:
Self-portrait on the lift
It was supposed to keep snowing all night up there - and did down in the valley too, off and on - so after H's snow report I decided that I was skiing on Sunday. After 2.5 weekends of not skiing, I'm overdue!
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