Skiing The Sierra's

The Sierra Nevada Mountains, "Snowy Mountains" in Spanish, extend from Tehachapi Pass in southern California 400 miles, north-northwest to Lake Alamanor. They vary in width from 40 to 80 miles. The highest peak at 14,494 feet is Mt. Whitney in the southeastern part of the state. These mountains were first seen by the Spaniards living in the Monterey area and given their name because of the snowy peaks. Over the ages the streams have cut deep valleys into the gentle western slope and deposited the soil onto the depressed western portion creating the vast San Joaquin and Sacramento Valley's, also know as the Great Valley. The eastern edge is a massive escarpment towering nearly three miles above the Owens Valley. During the Pleistocene Epoch alpine glaciers created the spectacular Yosemite Valley and produced peaks and rock rimmed lakes along the eastern crest. These high peaks lift the prevailing western winds moving off the Pacific Ocean producing heavy precipitation, especially in winter. Snowfall above 6,000 feet can be as much as 30 to 40 feet in an average winter. This is the watershed for the cities of California, mainly Los Angeles and San Franciso and for the irrigation canals for the San Joaquin valley. It has also become the play ground for people from all over the world.

Lake Tahoe, just a four hour drive from San Franciso, has become an all year playground for anyone that likes the outdoors or the indoors. Camping, hiking, mountain climbing, biking, swimming, boating, fishing, water skiing in the summer and snow skiing in the winter and of course that all time one arm sport, gambling. I lost count of the number of ski areas around the Lake long time ago. But if you had a week vacation in South Lake Tahoe and skied a different resort each day, you would not ski them all. At one ski resort, Heavenly Valley at South Shore, you can ski in two states going down one slope.

I was introduced to the world of skiing in Yosemite Valley. I had been going to the mountains from almost the first day I arrived in California. First to the Reno, Nevada area, then to the Lake Tahoe area and after that any place there was a camp ground and hiking trails. I spent a lot of time during the summer in Yosemite Valley climbing all the trails out of the valley to the highest point and back in one day. When wintertime came, I went just to see what it was like. I saw some people cross country skiing and thought that would be great for a wintertime pass time. Just like hiking, but you could coast along on skies. I bought a pair of cross-country skies, shoes and poles and took lessons on the valley floor. Then we moved up to the higher elevations for advanced lessons. Soon I was off on my own, back pack, tent and all, and spending the night out in the snow. My sleeping bag was good down to 10 below zero and some times that wasn't good enough. I took classes in winter survival. Did you know that if you get caught in a heavy snowfall, you could build a snow cave, light a candle, and be snug as a bug in a rug. Just make sure your sleeping area is a little higher than the rest of the snow and have a small trench around it so that if any snow melts it will have a place to run off and not stay on your "bed". Sometimes I would pass by the downhill ski areas but didn't pay much attention to them. Then one day I stopped and had lunch and watched them ski. Another mistake.

I had tried downhill skiing when I was working in Chicago at a small ski area in Wisconsin. I rented the skies and boots. They didn't have poles for us. The boots had leather tops. I didn't have anyone to show me how to ski and there were no classes at this area. I didn't do very good that time and never went back to try it again. But sitting there having lunch, I thought that looks pretty simple. That week when I was reading the newspaper there was a big add about a ski sale. I went to see what it was all about and before I knew it I was trying on ski boots. Gads! What a change. They were all plastic and fit your ankle like a tight glove. Needless to say I bought the works, skis, boots, poles, gloves and ski outfit. I was ready to give it a try.

The next weekend I was off to Yosemite with two pairs of skies in the camper. I took my cross-country skies along just in case I didn't like this down hill stuff. Saturday morning I was up bright and early, had breakfast, and off to the down hill ski area. I signed up for two lessons, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. I put my new ski boots on in the camper and stood up to get out. I took one step and stopped. Just how does one walk in these things, I wondered. I finally got out of the camper, got my skies and poles, threw the skies over my shoulder like I had seen everyone else do and waddled up to the area where the class was to meet. I got my skies on and wonder if I had them on the right feet (is there a right and left ski?) and stood there waiting for the instructor. Then I felt myself sliding sideways. What to do. I put my pole down beside the downhill ski and pushed it into the snow as far as it would go. That stopped the sliding.

The morning lesson moved along at a fast pace, all the basic stuff. How to snow plow. How to sit down if you felt like you were going to fall and things like that. I think I spent as much time lying on the snow as standing on the skies. After lunch we got to take our first ride on the chair lift to the top of the beginners slope. I just knew I was going to fall getting off that chair. But, much to my surprise, I didn't. We made two or three trips up, snow plowing on our way down and then, on the fourth trip up, we had to learn to turn going down. Glide all the way across the slope not getting up too much speed, make a turn and back across the slope and turn again. This wasn't as easy as I thought it was going to be. Each time we came down, the glide across the slope got shorter and shorter before we had to turn. Finally the class was over and we were left on our own to practice. I signed up for two more classes the next day. After that I would ski a weekend or two by myself and then take another lesson. Finally I got to the point where I though I could go to the top of the mountain. The only thing I can remember about that first trip to the top is that the view was beautiful, just don't look down that hill you got to slide down on those wooden sticks. For the next couple of trips up I got off at the midway point and practiced my turns on the way down. Then, it was back to the top. After the second time, it wasn't so bad. And then it got to be old hat.

At this time I had a Volkswagen camper. I traded that in on a 19-foot cab over camper that would sleep four people. It had a bathroom with shower, stove, a water heater and a furnace. I put more insulation in around the water pipes and such and got it ready for winter trips to the mountains. With that camper, I went to just about every ski resort in the Sierra Nevada. A different one each weekend. The skiing got better and better.

At this time the ski areas in California would open on Thanksgiving Day. So, I started taking a two week vacation starting on the Thanksgiving Day long weekend. That gave me eighteen days to hit the road and as many ski resorts as I could before I had to head for home. I traded the 19-foot camper in on a 26 footer that had all the comforts of home. One year I made it all the way to Canada. The next year to the Salt Lake City ski areas. The next to the Colorado ski areas. And after that I tried not to repeat myself but it got harder and harder to do.

The year I went to Canada was the year of the drought in California. I went all the way to Banff, looking for snow. Didn't find much anywhere and only skied about three times. When I got back home there was a letter from my sister in Virginia with newspaper articles telling how great the skiing was in Virginia and North Carolina. While in Banff, I parked the camper in a big lot along with other campers. I was sitting in the camper, listening to the radio, having a cocktail before going out to dinner when they gave the weather forecast. The announcer said it would get down to 25 below during the night. I though, on my gosh, this camper will freeze up solid. Then I happened to remember he was giving the temperature in celalus.

One year I went to Jackson, Wyoming. On the way home I stopped at Grand Targee ski resort just across the border in Iowa. Boy, was it cold there. I don't think the temperature got above ten degrees while I was there. I was going up in the chair lift one time when fog started to move in. When I got to the top you couldn't see anything. The ski patrol was there to guide us off the mountain in the right direction. This was my first time to be in a whiteout, and boy was it scary. I knew that the top of the run did not have any trees but at some point there were trees along the sides of the slope. I started off very slow and then felt like I was getting dizzy. You couldn't tell if you were going up, down or sideways. The only way to tell you were going down was that you picked up speed. Then you stopped and waited. Finally, I got to the tree line. If you stayed on the edge of the trees, you had a feeling of which way you were going. Some guys were skiing in the trees so they had a better feel of things with trees all around them. I soon followed them. After we all got down they closed down the mountain until the clouds lifted. One other thing about this ski resort. When you got off the chair lift at the top of the mountain there was a solid wood wall with a big sign that said, "Going beyond this point is sudden death". I went over to have a look at what they were talking about. On the other side of the barrier there was nothing. It was a straight drop down as far as you could see.

Since moving to Texas I have been skiing in Colorado quite a few times. I have been in Durango with the motor home and had skied Purgatory. That's a ski resort, not that other place. One year I went out just before Christmas and took my Christmas cards to mail with a Purgatory stamp on them. But they didn't have a post office so I had to settle for the Durango stamp.

I still have my cross-country skies down in the garage. Been so long since I used them, they may have dry rot by now. I still have the first pair of downhill skies I bought in the garage also. I still have the first ski outfit I bought but don't think I would be able to fit into it now. I still have the new skies and boots I bought when I came to Texas. No snow in Colorado this year, so I guess they will just have to wait.

The old VW camper
Cross-country skies leaning on the front

Goin' Up!

Gettin' Off!

Startin' Out!

Goin' Down!

Down Hill!

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6-15-2001