On Friday, I ecstatically danced for fun and under-slept for a second night. Saturday morning, J. and I awoke at 6 AM to begin the journey to Mt. Hood. The caravan was comprised of two cars (no Caravans), 8 people, and coffee. I was very tired. We took the slow route through the Columbia Gorge, then south towards the mountain from Hood River.
At the mountain, the wait for gear was long, and by the time I got to the boot area, they were out of size 10’s. Downgrading a half-size worked, though my big toes were a little squished. Unlike the ghetto boots at Cooper Spur, those at Mt. Hood Meadows were dry and clean. That alone made it worth the wait.
Mt. Hood Meadows is a sprawling resort with multiple lifts and runs crisscrossing a wide swatch of mountain. Most of the lifts take you straight to the top, making the total time down twice as long as I’m used to. The scenery, as expected, was beautiful. Pines and fresh snow, expansive views. Around lunch time, it started to snow. Visibility sank, and as I didn’t have a mask there was a lot of squinting necessary to make it down the hill. Once when I reached the top, I had to wait around for a while until the squalls died down enough to not grind off my face with snow. Lunch consisted of pricey but decent pizza.
C.L. and I lounging at a coffee shot/bar on the top of the mountain.
J. looking the pro on skis.
Unfortunately, I learned an important lesson. If my legs are sore before I start snowboarding, I’m in for a hard time on the slopes. I was having a hard time even standing that day, and felt fatigued. I hope it was just being tired, because on none of the prior trips have I had any trouble with leg strength. Maybe I’m getting old. Damn gams.
Fun time regardless, with a nice group of people.