Fabulous snow yesterday for skiing!

I had the ticket voucher for several weeks as it's a better deal the further out they are purchased at Liftopia. Snowbird had a lot of pleasant memories for me from my youth as that was the place I actually learned how to ski. My first time skiing had been to Alta, and I had known nothing and had basically pointed my skis down the hill and gone. My second time skiing was with a group of friends from work, and one older girl had taken some of us newbies under her wing and had taught us the basics of snow plowing, stem christies, and how to fall without getting hurt (in other words, she taught us that if you get out of control, fall on purpose). And there was that other time I went to Snowbird when I was younger when the wind chill at the top where the Tram let us off was 50 below. Think about that for a minute.
It was with those thoughts in mind that I anticipated this return to Snowbird after about 40 years. This past week got to be real exciting as the snow storms kept piling up. Wednesday night, another storm rolled in dumping over a foot at the resort and several inches in the valley. Because of avalanche control, the canyon wasn't going to open until 8:00 Thursday morning, so, I thought I'd leave home at 8:00 to avoid the line up of cars. Boy, was that ever a mistake!
The snow storm that had happened the night before had left its effects on commuters and the trip across the valley that normally takes twenty minutes, took an hour and a half. Part way there, while stuck in a slow moving line of cars, I mentioned on Facebook that at this rate, I'd make it to the resort at 11:00. At the time, I didn't realize how prophetic I was.
Still, I was happy, but really anticipating getting up on the slopes.
Snowbird has three places of entry and I had no idea where to go, but both the first and second one had "tickets" on the signs (I needed to exchange my voucher for a ticket). I chose entry two, found a parking place and began getting dressed. I basically had to add layers, and put on my ski boots. When it came time to putting on the boots, I had a hard time with the right one, and the left one was nearly impossible. I began to wonder if my feet had grown a size or two. I had worn some thinner socks, but they weren't really all that slinky, and I just couldn't get that left one to go in. After about five minutes of working on it, I was beginning to think I would have to find the ski shop and rent some equipment. I remembered that I had another pair of socks in my 4runner. They were thicker, but slicker. I put one of them on my left foot and was finally able to get the boot on, though not without a lot of strain. I added "ski socks" to my list of things to buy in the near future, and when I got home, read a bunch of tips on how to get your stubborn boots on.
With my boots finally on, I began hiking up the hill to the ticket office the sign had directed me to. There was a shuttle, but it never came by when I was hiking and it was probably a quarter mile hike to the ticket office from there. Once there, I had the opportunity to look at the map of the resort and decide where I was going to start. I decided to spend my time on the easier runs at first, until I got adjusted to the conditions. Frankly, during all of my recent times skiing, I hadn't ever skied on this much new snow and I remembered how grooves are easily cut in the snow by other skiers and boarders and how I tend to catch an edge of my own skis on these grooves from time to time, and go toppling down the slope.
I exchanged my voucher for a ticket and asked how to get to the lift I wanted to ride up. The easy area was back where I had parked. I had to hike over a bridge and up a hill before putting on my skis and going down. Wow that new snow was affecting me more than I realized! I was all wobbly, just like a newbie. I got to the lift and rode it up (I was on the lift at 11) and my first run was a crazy run of wobbliness.
Halfway down my second run, I figured out that I had failed to buckle my boots. Just try skiing with boots that aren't secured and you'll see how tough it is. The thing is, this is the second  time I have done that. It's easy to do if I'm not thinking because I don't like to walk very far with them tightened, so I loosen them (or in this case, since I was walking a long distance to the ticket office, never did them up in the first place) and then forget to tighten them.
It was cold, and the goggles I had acquired from a yard sale in the summer got ice on them too easily, so I just wore them on my forehead for the rest of the day.

The weather let up for a while and the peaks looked amazing

I had a few really nice runs after that. I had decided that I was going to stick to the easy runs for about ten runs, then move on to the intermediates, but on about my fifth run, I got whacked pretty good in the back of my calf with the chair lift as I was getting on. My very next run, the same thing happened only worse. My leg was hurting like I had a bad charley horse in it. After the 7th run I took a short break to eat the sandwich I had brought for lunch, I had no water with me and it was quite a time consuming hike back to my vehicle for the water, so I went without.
After lunch I put my skis back on and promptly fell. Other people were standing around there, and thankfully pretended not to notice. It was the only spill I took all day.
The skiing was great for the next few runs, though my leg still hurt, and the sun even came out for a few minutes. I made it a point to ask the lift operator where I should stand, because I wasn't sure if I was standing in the right place after getting hit by the lift twice. I guess I had gotten myself a little too far forward. I didn't get hit again for the rest of the day.

It snowed heavily periodically, lightly periodically, and then the fog rolled in. I could look down and see my skis easily, so I knew my glasses weren't fogged up, but seeing down the slope was nearly impossible. There were still other skiers zooming around me, and I had no idea how they could go that fast in the fog. I guess it's the same reasoning of people driving to fast for conditions in fog. I had completed 13 runs, my thighs were burning, and my calf hurt. I wanted to reach my goal of at least twenty, but I had no idea if the fog was going to lift, and I wasn't having fun at that point skiing where I couldn't see.
In the half hour it took me to get to my vehicle and get my stuff off, the fog lifted. I was worried that would be what would happen, but I wasn't going to try and put the boots back on again. I had had a lot of fun, despite all the interesting things that happened. I had learned a little about where things are at Snowbird, in case I get the chance to go there again, and I had been up in my beloved mountains in the fresh snow, feeling gravity pulling at me in a far different way than I had felt in the night before when I had been rock climbing. And that, is what adventure is all about. I can't wait for the next one.

Albion Basin hike

For at least half of my 56 years, I've heard tales of the wildflowers in Albion Basin. For whatever reason, I had never hiked there. I don't know if it was because it seemed like too short of a hike for me, or what, but after shoveling rocks for hours to finish my parking strip on Monday and Tuesday, what I needed was a short hike.
I got up there early for a couple of reasons. First, I'd heard that the parking lots get full. I'm not one to dawdle about getting up before others to stake my claim to a good parking spot. Second, the best photos are usually shot in early morning light or early evening light, and that was my main objective--to get some good pics of some of the legendary wildflowers. I was not disappointed in the flowers and I hope you're not disappointed in the pics.
There were four or five cars in the parking lot when I arrived. So far, so good.
The hike itself took me through a large chunk of Alta ski resort. I got to see most of the runs I'd gone on during the past winter, including the spot where my brother, Mike had been standing on level ground and had fallen. That was still funny, just thinking about it.
The main trail begins at the parking lot at the end of the road in Little Cottonwood Canyon and heads basically south from there. You can eventually wind up at Cecret Lake if you take this trail, though there are trails going everywhere up there. I took a fork in the trail heading east, winding my way up toward the cliffs. Along this trail I saw no one. But there were still plenty of flowers to see along the way.
This trail eventually heads north and I suppose if I had continued on it, I would have connected with the trail to Catherine Pass and been able to look down into Brighton.
Anyway, let's start with some of the pics.

I thought this would make a great jigsaw puzzle.

I had told Ann that there was still some snow left and I found it.

I decided to make a snow angel, but it was solid ice.

And this one would make a great puzzle too. Very challenging.

More snow pockets, way up high.

Lupines

It was very crowded as I wound my way back to the fork in the trail. I still had some time left, so I decided I'd check out Cecret Lake since I had never been there. Here's a pic of the lake.

The parking lot was full and other cars were driving around waiting for someone to leave when I returned to the 4runner. As soon as I left my spot was filled. It had been a nice hike and one that I'd remember for a long time. And I found a place or two for a nice picnic.

Great day skiing at Alta

I went skiing with my brother, Mike at Alta today. It was awesome! We had a few inches of fresh snow, and the sun was shining, and I only dumped it once.  Here's the pic he took:

My ski report

For the past few months, I've been planning to take up skiing again. At 55, there are a lot of things you begin thinking “it's now or never” about. So, I figured out a day I would go, reserved the skis, bought the lift ticket, and ended up at Alta, Utah.


But let's back up a bit. It had been a long time since I'd skied. I wasn't sure what to wear, what to take, how anything worked any more. The only thing I knew was where the resorts were and that I would need to take a lift to the top of the runs, and point the skis in a generally downward direction. A friend had recommended taking a lesson. Instead, I watched “how to turn” and “how to parallel ski” videos on youtube. I packed everything I would need the night before.


So yesterday, I got up in plenty of time to make it to the ski rental shop and then to the resort by the time it opened. I got on the freeway and was making good time and then all of a sudden, about a mile from my exit, there was a huge lineup of cars moving ever so slowly. We inched our way forward, finally making the exit about twenty minutes later. Then it was on to the ski rental place. I knew the general address of where it was, but didn't know exactly where. I went into Smith's grocery store and asked for directions. The guy I asked knew where it used to be and where it may still have been. “I don't have any reason to look for it,” he said, “but it used to be right up there by Zion's Bank”. I thanked him and found out it was right where he'd said it was.


I drove up to Alta with no further complications. It was easy finding the place to start, because that's where everyone was parking. I got the boots on and began the trek to the area where you first put on your skis. Again, no incidents putting on the skis. The guy at the ski shop had taken the time to show me how the bindings worked, and I got the skis on. At this point there's a small slope that leads down to the first lift. Nervously, I snowplowed my way down this slope, nearly falling. It was going to take a while to get my ski legs back, I could tell.


I managed to get on the lift, sitting next to a guy, maybe close to my same age. “I'm a snow boarder,” he said. “I just started skiing this year,...well, it's been fifteen years since I skiid until this year.”
“It's been 29 years for me,” I said.
“Wow,” he said. “I bet the skis you used 29 years ago didn't look like the ones you have now.”
“No,” I said, thinking about the old pointy ended skis that I had been accustomed to, “they didn't”.


I picked the easiest of the easy runs for my first run. I took it slowly, trying to feel my way back into it. The weather was perfect. The sky bright blue, the sun shining. Apparently though, this was not conducive to good skiing, because with the warmer temperatures, the lack of recent snow, and the melting and then refreezing of what snow there was, the groomed trails had turned into very icy and treacherous places to be for someone who hadn't done it for a long time. I felt the snow beneath me, knowing that if I fell, it was going to hurt. That first run, I made it to the bottom without falling.


On run number two, I had a small fall that I was able to recover from fairly quickly. Then on run number three, I went up the same lift, skied down to another lift and went up further. This was a different kind of lift with a metal post in between two seats, called Cecret Lift. There were warnings about getting ready to stand up as I neared the end of the lift. I was by myself and as I got off the lift, I fell. There were a pair of skis nearby where I fell, and as I scrambled to get up the lift operator came out and said, “watch out for those skis—they're expensive skis,” and apparently they were his. I made sure no harm was done to them and headed down.


On one of my subsequent rides up to the top I was with an Alta employee. “Couldn't ask for better weather,” I said to him.
“Yeah,” he said. “If you can't have snow, you might as well have sun.” He didn't seem too happy about it though and was silent the rest of the way to the top.


I rode up another time with a woman from Chicago. She mentioned the inversion in the Salt Lake Valley. “I've never seen it this bad,” she said. I wanted to say, “you should try living here all winter” or something like that. I've seen it this bad plenty of times. Not that I like it one bit. I didn't say any of that to her, and we continued our pleasant conversation all the way to the top.


One time, I got off the lift and a woman asked me if I'd take her picture. “Sure,” I said. “If you'll take mine.” I took hers then handed her my camera. “I don't see anything on the screen,” she said. I looked at it. The battery was in need of recharging. What can I say? It was my wife's camera, so I didn't think to check the battery before I grabbed it that morning. So much for any photos of my first time back.


I kept to the easy runs thinking that in the afternoon, I'd give one of the intermediate runs a shot. That was not to be. Just a few minutes before noon, on my ninth run, I started down the steepest portion of the easy run I was on, lost control on the icy surface and fell hard, wrenching my back. I knew something was wrong as I struggled to get my ski and hat that were further up the slope. Some kind people helped me gather my stuff and get my ski back on and I continued down, but my back hurt like crazy—not in the spine, thank goodness—but in the muscles of the middle-right side.


I tried a couple more runs after that, but I was skiing defensively, trying not to hurt my back further, not having much fun. I fell on my last run again, not hard, but losing a ski. I was able to get it on all by my little old lonesome this time. I headed to the lodge, took off my skis, went inside to see how much food was, decided it was too exhorbitant, then decided to sit down and wait a while to see if my back would feel good enough to strap the skis back on. I could tell after five minutes or so that it wasn't going to improve, so I packed up and headed home.


Later that evening, I went to Instacare, just to make sure I hadn't cracked a rib. The doc had some xrays taken, and they came up negative. She classified it as a muscle strain, gave me a list of things to do and not do, prescribed some drugs, gave me a referral to a back doctor, and sent me on my way. She told me not to work and wrote me a “doctor's excuse” for Friday and Saturday. So I have nothing to do except write in this blog and watch tv or read. I hate that. I'm sure I'll break the rules. I always do.