The Last of the Woolly Mammoth

Experiences from Thursday, February 17, 2011

The weather abated somewhat, the winds died down and the majority of the upper mountain lifts opened as scheduled on Thursday morning. I headed out at 8:45 am and boarded the Broadway Express outside the Main Lodge. The much anticipated light powder was instead wind-packed chuff. I decided on the steepest route under the top of the lift only to find myself on rubble left behind by avalanche control. This combined with absolutely no visibility and depth perception made this quite a challenge. Not the powder-filled run I had dreamed about. I then headed back up Broadway, and followed a chain of uniforms heading across the top of the bowl and into some trees. This turned out to be some race program coaches and kids out playing on fat skis. I followed suit and at the last moment left the single track to the right as they headed left. I found myself on top of a wide treed run with only two or three sets of tracks before me. Heaven! I jumped in and made gentle turns, floating my skis, letting the depth of the snow be my brakes. This is the rare experience we snow seekers dream about… and pay dearly for. A freedom so unique it has to be the closest thing for man to flight. 

At the base of this pitch I headed down into Dry Creek, a natural gully, halfpipe in shape, much like Dick’s Ditch at Jackson Hole. My run was flawed by some wedge-turners with no business being in there, but a few turns up higher on the ravine walls and I was past them and aimed my K2’s to the base of the next lift. I headed for Chair 22, which, oddly enough serves steep terrain spotted with cliff bands much like Squaw Valley’s famed KT-22. I’m quite sure this coincidence must have been a bit of one-upsmanship between Mammoth’s founder Dave McCoy and Squaw’s Alex Cushing. Back in the day, this was commonplace. 

Two thigh-deep runs here on the steeps, ducking in and out of trees, dodging some rock exposures and I was ready for a break. Down to Canyon Lodge for a coffee and hot oatmeal I went. Parker and I connected via phone and he was making his way up Chair 22. We agreed to meet back at the Inn to check out of our room, and store our things in the car. Once this task was completed, Parker headed back out to ski with his park buddy River, and I went to the marketing offices to meet Howard Pickett and thank him for the courtesies he had extended to us. 

With an exhilarating morning and a 4-hour drive back to Squaw Valley still ahead, I opted for some down time in the lobby before some garage time to fumble with the tire chains. Once secure I drove out into the drifts to pick up Parker down at the Village where he had taken the gondola down to intercept me. A few minutes later with chains flapping an annoying beat against the inner fender well, I stopped off to pick up some cable ties to affix the loose ends. After a little research and some help from the hardware store clerk, I had the wrong type of chains for the Eurovan entirely. $150 later with the correct chain package installed, Parker and I pointed North on 395 for Carson City. A few miles into the journey we were on dry pavement and the bumpity-bump of our new cable-chains at 30 mph was enough to pull into the shoulder and go it without. 

Fortunately, there were only signs directing us to chain up, no CHP patrol or local sheriffs to enforce the advisory. We continued on to Lee Vining, CA the Jct. to Yosemite Valley. By this point, the roads were dry or just spotted with streaks of snow. While the snow falling intensified, the snow itself just seemed to blow across the surface of the road, never adhering. We pushed on up past Topaz Lake to Minton and Gardnerville, Nevada, then into Carson City for the turn West onto Hwy. 50 toward Tahoe. On this climb out of Carson City, the snow was now two to three inches deep, covering the roadway, but there was no traffic. We sailed along effortlessly, chains in the trunk! When we reached the turn off to Hwy. 28 along the Eastern shore of Lake Tahoe, the snow was really coming down hard. The roadway was down to one and one-half lanes and travel was necessarily slow and cautious. Just one other car ahead of us. The snow banks were so large that if not for the graphic display on the GPS, one would never know there was a lake immediately to the left side of the van. Parker pointed this out as he recalled the absence of guardrails on our trip south a few days before.

The Eurovan Awaits

We made it through Incline Village, NV, then Kings Beach, CA, where we fell in behind an aggressive CHP snowplow truck.  We followed him for 15 miles through a power outage in Tahoe City. Thankfully by the time we passed the Alpine Meadows access road power had been restored and the lights were on. At last, Squaw Valley Road, ¼ mile ahead! Over 5 snowy hours from Mammoth, but we made it to our destination safely. As we pulled into Mountain House there was 3 feet of snow in the parking area. I attempted to back in with the loaded Eurovan and promptly bogged down. Within 3 minutes one of Squaw’s bucket loaders arrived and began clearing a pathway behind us. Parker and I shoveled out the remnants then backed the van in as the loader cleared out the front. Perfect! Now, inside with our luggage, sip some green tea and turn in for a fitful night’s sleep. Powder Day tomorrow!