My friend, Tina,  and I went out to play in the snow today.  It actually started out a few weeks ago.

Tina and I decided that even if we had to ski on man-made snow, we were going to go ski before I leave the area.  Tahoe is about 2 and a half to 3 and a half  hours away. depending on where you are going.  Talk about things I take for granted.  World class ski destination just down the road.  So we set the date for March 1.

Sometimes you get screwed by the weather.  This was one of those times.  Tina had taken the day off work, I needed a break from the moving nightmare, but Wednesday night it started to storm.  There was a winter storm watch through Thursday noon in the Sierra – the snow didn’t sound too daunting, could’ve probably skied in the snow showers, but it was the wind gusts to 45 mph that didn’t sound very enjoyable.

So Tina was able to change her day off, and we opted to go today, Friday.  Gorgeous sunny weather predicted, a fresh layer of snow, what could possibly go wrong?

In a word: nothing.  It was probably the most perfect ski day I’ve ever had in my life.  I figured out how to control the snugness of my boots without cutting off my circulation. Comfort city.  My “new” used skis have already become my own after one day.  It was sunny.  It was warm.

The snow was perfect all day long.  Usually on such a warm day the snow will be mushy  and slow by one pm and then turn to ice by 3 p.m. I do okay with ice having learned to ski in the East, but  I don’t do too well with the whole scene when your ski tips hit mushy snow and stop and the rest of your body keeps going.

No worries today.  Delightfully soft and forgiving snow, snow, snow.  Every turn was like riding a pleasant wave.  I am drifting off to sleep tonight with visions of just one turn after another with that beautiful snow at my feet and the decisions about where to turn and what snow I wanted to ski over – none of which would be wrong decisions on a day like today.

I wasn’t in great shape for this outing.  I haven’t been exercising, no excuses, but I certainly could tell the difference on the slopes.  My body didn’t hurt, but my endurance gave out.  Tina had a Bloody Mary for lunch so between my fatigue and her relaxed state we sat on the deck in deck chairs in the sun and watched other skiers come down the hill for about an hour.  Then we went out again for a few more runs.

I suppose people who get to ski all the time experience that “perfect day” feeling more than I do.  For me, in thirty years, it was the best day ever.  My boots didn’t hurt.  The snow was perfect.  The sun was shining. Blew off homework and went outside to play in the snow with my friend.  Who could ask for more?