I arrived about 9:30, before dawn, and found only a few other cars in the parking lot. Most everybody was teen or college age. We milled around waiting for some sign of life from the proprietors.
Rumors started to circulate that they weren't opening after all, so I walked over to the Ski Patrol shack and chatted with the lone patrolman there. He let me know they weren't opening, either due to thin snow or high winds--he hadn't heard which. I told him I was a dentist and thought I might be interested in doing Ski Patrol. He encouraged me to come back next year, after my deployment.
Disappointed, I considered packing up and heading out like the other people in the lot. But then I thought, "Aw, what the heck. I don't have anywhere to go." So I stepped into my skis and took a run down to the base of the lift.
It was a lot of fun. I would go back when they are open. Of course all the fresh, untracked powder helped.
I listened to Handel's Messiah hiking back to the top, and it made for a spiritually satisfying experience. I stopped to jump off a big rock that was beckoning (sorry, no video; I sure miss my brothers). Views of the sunrise on the White Mountains to the north were really gorgeous. I took another half run after reaching the lodge at the summit.
The moon rose low, near the horizon.
I finished up around 12:30 or 13:00. It was a great morning. Since the lifts didn't open, I got some extra exercise and saved twenty-five bucks.
1 comment:
Like the clouds pic.
Post a Comment