Woke up at my standard time and saw that there was 6” of new snow overnight. Despite my inclination to stay home and let my back heal a little more, I knew that Dylan would be pushing to go up (“there’s not that many days left…”). So we did.
When I went out to the car, I noticed a coffee mug under the right left tire. April Fool's...not. We pulled those out and then a half dozen more from other cars down the street from us. Guess we did our good deed for today.
Conditions were, well 2” of dust on the frozen mush left over from Friday. That is to say less than ideal. In a word, bad.
We searched around for something worth getting excited about. About the best we found were a few spots where you could get a couple turns in without scraping the nasty stuff underneath. I hung in there for a couple of hours, but it wasn’t anything to write home about.
Dylan gets awkward…
He got around and lived to tell about it.
Willamette has the biggest Raven's around. They were hanging out in the trees by the parking lot today.
The conditions weren't great, so we didn't stay very long.
Today is mom’s birthday, so happy birthday mom!
The Parker Family Christmas photo. I'm guessing this was 1973.
Last year I asked the family to provide ski stories from days of yore. There's only so much about the present to write about, but after 44 years of skiing, there's lots of history there. Mom obliged with a few thoughts from their spring break at Beaver Creek.
Ah yes, spring. We haven't had that here yet, but it sure sounds nice right about now. Thanks for the memories mom!If you head out to the slopes around 10:00 a.m. at Beaver Creek, you are greeted by a parade of matching gold snowcats - ten of them to be exact. They creep over the top of the hill, lined up, sirens blowing laying down perfect corduroy snow for the skiers. It is an exciting experience, especially for the geezer skier like me. You know that no matter what condition the hill was in the day before - today will be another perfect day of skiing the groomers in the Colorado Rockies.
Our recent week at Beaver Creek was a spring skiing extravaganza. Most days this year, the snow forgot to fall in the Rockies. We have skied in the wind, we have skied hardpack, we have skied slush. For spoiled Colorado, skiers - this is not normal and we don't like it. But, with those wonderful high end grooming machines - a day on the slopes, even when the temperature are in the mid 50's, can be exceptional.
I couldn't help but reflect back after 45 years on the slopes, of what it was like to ski in spring conditions in the old days. We started skiing as a family in the late sixties at a little known ski area high in the heart of Rocky Mountain National Park. It was called Hidden Valley and offered a great value - our family of five could ski for $18.00 a day - a far cry from the daily rate of $115.00 a person at any Vail Resort.
Cat Parade, Beaver Creek Resort
Snow grooming had not been heard of and lifts were basic. As a beginner you pulled yourself up a rope tow. Leather ski mittens were trashed after one session. As your skiing skills improved, you advanced to the hard runs which were serviced by a T-Bar. If you are tall like I am and had to ski with one of your "chillins" - the bar ended up behind your knees which made riding the lift more challenging than learning stem christie's on the bunny hill. Whatever mother nature put down on the slope in the way of snow was what you skied on.
We worked had at mastering the basics of skiing - not easy since we learned on wood skis a foot taller than we were with unsafe cable bindings, boots were leather with laces and the gigantic bamboo poles had huge leather baskets. The ultimate goal was to learn parallel turns a la Stein Erickson or John Claude Kiley. Boots had to be aligned perfectly together and turns had to be smooth and sweeping. You can still spot a skier who learned in the 60's and 70's by their technique. After gaining a certain amount of competency at our little local area, it was time to head for the "big" hills.
Ruthanne at Winter Park, March 1969
Winter Park was our favorite. And they had snow grooming! A man named Bradley, who was a Winter Park regular, had invented what was called the Bradley Packer. It was a terrifying looking apparatus which resembled a farm implement called a hay rake A brave patrolman would strap it around his waist and head straight down the hill chewing up the snow crud as he blazed down the slope. It was a sight to behold. Skiers would stand at the bottom amazed at the feat.
We skied at Vail when it was in its infancy and grooming was still basic. It was a terrifying experience to go out on a spring morning and maneuver down the slope with the slush frozen into suicide mounds from the day before. You quickly learned that prime ski hours were 11:00 to 3:00 allowing time for the snow to soften. That meant long lunches and delicious apres ski on a sunny deck. Not a bad way to vacation.
Looking back on close to 45 years of skiing, any day on the slopes is a good day. I have often commented that if I never get any closer to heaven than from the top of a snow covered mountain I will die happy. The other thing I know for sure is that it makes my heart swell to know that I have raised a family who love the sport as much as I do. They are all much better skiers/boarders than I will ever be and that is as it should be. But, progress is a wonderful thing and I bless those beautiful snow groomers that create perfect corduroy snow. There is nothing more fun for a geezer skier than floating down the hill behind those golden machines making perfect parallel turns on marshmallow snow.
Ruthanne & sister Barb, probably at Hidden Valley, 1967-ish
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