I Do Not Know How to Ski
How Hard Can It Be? Spring 2017 Edition
I spent the winter of 2016-17 in a very lonely place. Namely the La-Z-Boy recliner in my room studying for my Civil Engineering Professional Engineering (PE) licensing exams here in California. On clear days as I drove to my corporate habitat in Roseville I could see the great peaks plastered in sweet drought-busting snow, so beautiful…and so far away…
And so it was with great vigor that upon finally completing the Seismic Exam (April 11), National 8-hour Exam (April 21), and the Survey Exam (April 24), the gauntlet of PE, I drove straight to Shasta. The most wonderful place I could imagine to celebrate a job well done. Or not, I wouldn’t find out whether I passed the damn things for another two months. If I had to guess the State of California employs a variety of monkeys, possibly of orangutan descent which gaze upon the Scantron sheets. Trained to spot inconsistencies in the pattern of dots the monkeys hurl bananas at passing exams, and rip the failures to shreds in a horrific display of attrition.
I consider this website to be an escape from the corporate paroxysms which have brought this country to its knees but for this very reason I’m sure you will not be able to notice or even mind the blatant advertising heretoforth unfurled. So here goes. The Fifth Season Mountain Shop in Mt Shasta will HOOK YOU UP! These guys rock! I went in there without any notice in May and they set me up on a sweet backcountry ski rig. One of the guys in the shop was working on a mountain bike but stopped everything he was doing when I mentioned it would be cool if I could get on the mountain that very same weekend. Didn’t even have to ask, really. While Miller? the shop guy installed some tech bindings onto my skis, Jeff worked with me on the ski boot front. I’ve rented boots in the past and every time my feet are mashed by the end of it. Boot packs have haunted my waking dreams. The process involved heating the liners which then thermo-whatever molded the things to my feet. Now they work with my manly curves. When all was said and done I was off to the mountain the same day with a much appreciated late-season discount (25%) on all the new gear. Awesome.
Of course, Shasta did not disappoint. I ate some fabulous corn in Avalanche Gulch. Literally, I choked down some snow after biffing the first turn. The last trees on the western side of the gulch (above the Sierra Club Horse Camp) make for a serene place to spend the night. There are a few groves that protect you from the weather, but still offer fabulous views of the mountain and surrounding horizons. Having left the camera back at the trailhead I deliberately burned the imagery onto my long-term drive. I’m talking the shit you will remember until you die.
All too soon it was back to work on Monday, and then finally up to Tahoe the following weekend. The epic winter had come and gone and somewhat ironically all the resorts were closed. But no matter, with some willpower and caution the backcountry opens as a tapestry of wild exploratory possibilities. I barely know how to ski and enjoyed a truly perfectly pleasantly day on the accessible slopes surrounding Castle Peak. With the Boreal Resort closed I was able to park on Bunny Hill Dr off Exit 176 quietly and without difficulty. Signs suggested severe tickets through the end of May, but I chanced it and got away fine-free.
Lots of skiers headed up the well-worn trail toward Castle Peak. Many called it a day upon running into thick fog and high winds over Castle Pass. A few of us forged on and knocked a few beers back on the northwest summit. Strangers to friends in no time. By some divine intervention the clouds blew off and from the ruins a bluebird day emerged. From this point on I pretty much just went for it. Ridge traversing, peakbagging, lazy turns, and a breakthrough moment in the enchanted forest ensued. Skiing through the trees, I learned to relax all my muscles, to let go, and let the skis do the work. Before I was way too tense, trying so hard to balance instead of letting the bumps and turns roll by. On low angle terrain, I noticed by relaxing my legs, my body naturally shifted forward to match the angle of my boots. Cruiser!
