Gorging From the Back of the Refridgerator

Leftovers are the most elusive yet, sometimes, tastiest of all meals.

Approaching the fridge with a growling stomach and the nagging feeling that you're going to walk away hungry, you open it. Your eyes focus on the door's mustard containers, a few barbecue sauces, lemon halves wrapped in wax paper, and a number of other condiments. The top shelf is littered with oversize salsa containers and large juice bottles with only a swig left in them. The middle shelves are hard to see in their entirety and you have a feeling that there's just nothing good on them anyway. Then there's the bottom shelf. Recycled cottage cheese containers hold unlabeled leftovers of all types and ages. If it's your second day of foraging from the mantles, you can occasionally identify some bad ones and thus get to the better ones quicker. Finally the lid comes off and the fork goes in. You are now an astronaut going where not too many have gone before….

This is exactly what the skiing has been like lately. We have a pretty full fridge but nothing new has been put into it. Our beloved powder-on-a-platter presenters of February have become secretive lovers, tentative to show us their best spot. It has now become skier versus mountain.

Each hill obviously has its own physical dynamics so they all hold snow in different places and ways. But when the wind blows, it does so on all of them and the sun always shines more on south facing slopes. When it's cloudy at one north shore resort it's usually cloudy at the others, too. Telltale signs abound on every mountain.

The problem is that these are only signs. Sometimes you'll head to a spot which may have been great in the morning but by afternoon it has turned into a horrific battlefield of falling, twisting skiers and bustling ski patrollers. On other occasions, you'll be traversing on your way to a stash! only to abruptly head downhill because you spy great conditions before you get to the intended run. When dealing cards to nature, you have to expect some incomprehensible hands.

For seasoned locals this is the best time of year because they know the mountains as well as the base lodge deli girls know them. They beeline straight to the hidden goodness. Weekenders have their theories and march expectantly toward their spots. Most out-of-towners are hopefully on the groomed runs but the experts will be hunting for good places during their entire stay.

The best part about this scenario is that everyone finds what they're looking for at least once every day. Similar to that one great golf shot that keeps you returning to the course, a nice run can make your day. And the snow has been incredibly consistent in places. People are driving up to resorts knowing that they can head to a few exact slopes that they know will be nice, while keeping an eye open to discover what else has become buffed.

Native Californians will laugh at the irony of this statement: This snow is unlike anything easterners ever see. It is windblown. Many Vermont transplants can be overheard saying that this is their favorite type of snow, preferable to a couple feet of fresh. It packs and loads itself so that skis track right through it but it somehow manages to get enough of you to propel you out of each turn while letting you accelerate. Another type of snow we've been seeing a lot of is the desert sand style. When the wind's steady, you can watch from the chair as the miniature dunes form. This sand bar snow is also fun to ski.

While taking a few runs with a 20-year Tahoe ski veteran from San Francisco, I was spewing about how great conditions are. He agreed but also said that he was scared to death of the ice which has formed in heavy rider-traffic areas. He's one of the people who laughed at the irony of the aforementioned statement. In limited places, the skiing in Tahoe is just like average skiing back east!

The big thing about leftovers is that they're always hit or miss. With skiing you have the advantage of watching where the wind is blowing, what the sun is doing and the directions which slopes face. It's more of a science. The only equivalent with a refrigerator would be a time-lapse tape of the door opening and closing and the actions being performed upon its contents. Even then a good meal is still a toss-up. The best solution is to stay on the hill searching for killer ski spots and let your roommates do the shopping.

Alex West is a freelance paver, writer, event contractor and publicist who made Hot Dogs Mildy last week (pan-cooked, chopped up hot dogs in red sauce over mashed potatoes). He didn't feel better after eating it. His goal is to become a resort vagabond chronicling a Tahoe ski season in this column.

send an email to Alex at Winter Daze

© 1998 alex west