So we did go skiing last weekend. And had an excellent time. We were joined by my dad and a whole bunch of friends. So many, in fact, that Dad ended up in the room of last resort in the house we rent.
He's of the same mind we are when it comes to ski accommodations: As long as you have a place to lie your head, you're good. Even if it's the laundry room.
He didn't mind though because we were in for two days of this.
We had family friends and school friends, some who stayed with us and some we met up with on the mountain. Here's my family, along with the kid I consider my "ski son" for the season. Sophie and he have a sort of surrogate sibling relationship. I call them The Bickersons.
The backside was open, which was a treat for us since it was closed almost all of last year and earlier this season owning to lack of snow. But warm afternoons and fairly cold nights left it pretty icy in the morning and a little slushy in the afternoon. The best snow was definitely on the front side. Alpine and Wolverine bowls off Summit Six were both groomed, and I was pretty happy to trade those much of the day.
My dad continues to improve at an astonishing rate and enjoyed his first days of skiing bowls with the rest of the group.
Sophie, a.k.a. The Pink Rocket or just Pink, blew everyone away once again. I can barely keep up with her on the groomers, and she's now skiing terrain I avoid.
Her greatest triumph was this mogul field to the right of Summit Six as it goes up. Adults were biting it all day on this, but she motored right by them.
Our only complaint was that at one point my dad accidentally followed her onto this run, and since I was behind him I felt obligated to follow him down. Not pretty, folks. He fell a couple of times, and although I stayed on my feet I really hacked my down—hardly what you'd call skiing.
But all in all, good stuff.