Words and photos published in the Winter 24-25 edition of Tahoe Quarterly
We’re socked in, stuck in a cloud, with visibility only a few feet at best. It’s snowing, and we’re lined up for a long tour. Rocks give us a slight sense of depth, but it’s too hard to see cracks and subtle undulations in the glaciation ahead. A wrong move could turn our adventure into an epic.
It feels like the ceiling might open up, unleashing far more snow than projected. Experience has taught me the virtues of patience, and even though it’s dubious at best to fully trust high-alpine weather predictions, we’re committed. Waiting for a break in the storm is the right decision.
Fortunately, my two partners and I are aligned. There is a shared understanding of the task at hand, the danger attached to moving in haste and the willingness to pause for the right time. In moments like these, a few minutes can feel like a few hours.
That is, until the snow slowly stops falling, the ceiling starts to lift and visibility improves.
In a flash we go from an eerie calmness to a fire drill. Ryan DeLena drops into the deepest pitch of the tour. All goes quiet as we watch him transition from tight turns to open arcs, throwing in a few hollers of joy for good measure. Mike Krisinger and I share a smile, recognizing the sound as an indicator of good snow.
We’re certainly getting more than we bargained for with the weather, but now, the abundance is in the form of exceptional skiing.
Read the rest here or find it in print throughout the greater Tahoe area.
