Feeping the Kaith

"The City of Brotherly Love has been inundated by a foot of fresh snow!"

"And South Carolina is reporting inches of frozen stuff!"

"Where's the horse?! Steamboat just got 2.5 feet!"

Meanwhile back in Tahoe the best advice being given is, "Umm, the mountain biking trails behind Truckee are actually pretty sweet right now."

It's a confusing time, especially because winter arrived back on November 8; the next weekend we were skiing windloaded powder at Alpine and Squaw. Since then it's been the Lazy Painters' Sopping Dream with blue skies and temps warm enough to convince homeowners to get going on that last project …. Once you realize that the skiing won't be very good until more snow flies, you start looking over at the ole mountain bike and golf clubs leaning in the corner of the shed, hmmm.

Which is exactly why nobody should stress about 'getting their days in at the mountain' or go hiking for turns right now. The resorts have OK snowcover and snowmaking has lengthened runs at some places. This makes for some fun and we should always obey the urge for a little speedy fresh air. But those who think that we must keep the faith have everything backwards.

It's not time to keep the skiing faith. It's time to keep the Tahoe Faith - there's a little difference. The best way to illustrate this is to consider the following - a lesson in 'not forcing it:'

Have a monstrous hangover because you were on the Wagon for three weeks. Then on the morning after Thanksgiving, drive an hour and pull into a Forest Service maintenance lot. Tell your visiting buddy that this is "kinda stupid seeing as all the other times I've been here I've never seen that rockpile, that dirt road…or that friggin house right there! They're all normally covered." Next strap on a backpack with your skis lashed to the outside, boots inside, a few extra clothing items. Add to the mix a hot bacon and bacon sandwich oozing cheddar out of every available pore. Not! Put a note in the bottle, huck it overboard and get back to your hangover. Now hoist that backpack, grab your poles and start marching UP. You will find hard-packed and bear-groomed dirt for most of the way. Then you'll start getting into some snow which is as consistent as your bowling game. Give up about ¼ of the way from the top because it's too hard to walk on the sn-ice. The skiing looks so bad that you might as well just start getting down; the sooner you're back at the car, the closer you are to turkey leftovers. When you finally change into your boots they feel like vice grips because you're feet are swollen and worked. Then the actual skiing is more like playing Asteroids - you hit a bunch of rocks, some tree roots and probably get a few pine-needle-patch shots. But when the forest opens up a little and a miniature snowfield calls you over to nab a few real turns, 'that feeling' wells up from deep down.

It's all right that some people would chalk the whole trip up as a success due to those three turns. But really the trip was a success because you got yourself up and out of bed and you went outside and walked around. You did something. Well maybe your buddy had to brave the paint-peeling breath of your room and pull you out of bed, but still, you enjoyed Tahoe that day.

And in truth, the trip really wasn't much of a success because you 'forced it.' It's time to realize that we are in that funk between lombar and high thigh where sometimes you're not quite sure what to do. Sure the Flume looks bikeable when looked at from West shore, but it would quickly become a mess of a day if you actually went for it; same with the peaks for skiing; the resorts for continual days of riding.

So settle into this time of year. Let's be good little yogi's and throw on some tea instead of coffee and get ready for the Filth that's surely on its way...