I can not tell a lie… Well, I could, but I won’t. All the hype in the world won’t disguise the fact that Tahoe is having its third dismal winter in a row. Actually “dismal” might be too kind of a word. Winter is almost non-existant here.
As usual, the early fall dustings of snow stirred optimism of a drought-breaking winter, but alas, we have become high and dry. An early December dumping of 16-24″ of dry, light powder was not what the doctor ordered. It would have have made for ideal conditions on top of our usual bomber, Sierra Cement-type base, but… there isn’t a base here.
Where there was snow left over from November, it had a faceted crust. Not good for bonding and we now have a very weak layer. Where there wasn’t snow, the light powder was not enough to support a skier and logs, rocks, and stumps were waiting underneath like hungry sharks. Gouging your skis is the least of your worries when skiing over these hidden leg breakers.
So, three strikes and its time to get out. Time to chase snow. The resorts opening limited terrain was almost salt in the wound- it was fine for the once-a-year holiday gapers who don’t mind waiting in long lines for a a poor product. But to the true skier it meant a couple hours of meaningless laps until boredom set in.
Where to? Canada, Europe, Japan… short road trips to Utah, Jackson, Baker, Montana… almost anywhere but here. This is ridiculous. Living in Tahoe and having to go somewhere else to ski. Might as well live at the coast.