Freshie Huntin' in Truckee, CA

It was early Janurary '05, I was sitting in my cube staring at that drab grey wall trying to wade my way through that post-holiday downer...you know that moment when you realize it is just 4 more months of cold without holiday vaca days and a single new years bash. Then it hit me, I decided I was going to go huntin'....for "freshies", as Berger calls them. After hearing story after story of those Lake Tahoe dumps....3...4...feet at a time, it was time for me to see it for myself. I planned a trip for mid-march, prime riding season around the lake. A few more months of work, then a quick plane ride into O-town, followed by a 3...4...5...6 hour ride northeast (thanks to all those potti-stops Berger, that fantastic Cali traffic, and don't forget those chain check points before the passes) and we were there, at the winter share house in north lake- Truckee, CA.

Someone upstairs was smiling on me, we showed up to Alpine Meadows on the first day, to find the hunt was over. First lift up, and there I stood staring down at the best breakfast a boy could ever have...a huge bowl of freshies. Despite the fog sitting at 8,637' cutting visibility to about 10', I had it, that pit of nervous excitement in my stomach, the one we all chase again and again...that 6th sense that just tells you "this is going to rock....this is what "it" is all about". And then, there was complete solitude... just me, my board, and that one tune of the day that plays over and over as that background music inside my head. Then I moved, I dove in to start that first of so many runs that day in that infamous west coast powder....it was amazing....absolutley amazing....that's all I can say.


The remainder of my trip was just as brilliant, the other two days were spent at another mid-sized mountain in north lake called Northstar. We lived in the tree's for both days, monstrous beautiful pines, scattered with some of those cali redwoods...all perfectly spaced to let the the powder cover the forest floor while allowing for adequate negotiation even with my klunky Floater 159. Birm, Berger, Nikki, and I hit tree run after tree run while I constantly searched for that next little lipper or that rock to lauch myself off of, knowing that gracefully or not I would shortly be landing back in that phenominal powder.

To be perfectly honest, it was not all picture perfect, on the very last day I was "fortunate" enough to experience some of that other infamous brand of west coast snow...the good ol' Sierra-Cement. Imagine that bowl of mashed potatoes mom makes on Thanksgiving...now spread it all over a mountain and try to ride it...it's not so pretty. However I am incredibly glad that I got to see both sides of mother nature in Lake Tahoe, otherwise I would probably already have a ski patrol job and a Truckee address.
I can give nothing less than 5 stars all around for my first huntin' trip. Lake Tahoe is unbelievably beautiful, and if you catch it right like we did you'll be ruined forever, with those powder filled memories. Although, I'll be back to Tahoe next year and the year after that, I'll always be an east coasta through and through. Where else can you be carving nasty digs one second, and the next be struggling to maintain through one of those infamous yellow bare ice spots that seem to ambush you right in the middle of the trail....ya know? It makes you tough....I love it.