Was it a Dream

Yet another 4 am alarm abruptly wakes me from my sleep. I can't remember the last time I slept in. But the snow is soft as butter from the desert to the tops of the ridge lines, the wind is calm, and the late January sun provides a brief but magical window to play. I have to get up. It's been nearly two months of continuous storms. 2 feet, 9 feet, 1 foot – I lose track of the cycles in a blur of deep powder turns and trail breaking. California skiing seems to be defined by feast or famine, and this year is trending towards a year of feasting. After two drought-stricken seasons in a row it seems too good to be true, and we gorge ourselves on powder snow.

The Sierra Nevada runs nearly 400 miles from the north side of Lake Tahoe to the southern tip of the range near Tehachapi. In the south, 14,000-foot peaks plunge 10,000 feet to the Owens Valley below. Further north, the Tahoe area holds fantastic terrain and the highest-quality snow. In the southern part of the range, the wind and the strong sun wreak havoc on the snowpack, and oftentimes the range will go weeks or months without snowfall. In a year like this, however, the ski options are beyond limitless. No matter how many days you ski or how fit you are, you'll never get to it all. But we try anyway and accept that there will be plenty left on the table for the next big year. The purr of my diesel heater coaxes me out of bed to get ready.

None of my socks are fresh, so the least crusty pair goes on my feet, and I pack my bag for what feels like the thousandth time. My van is parked somewhere in the desert alongside my friend and ski partner for the week, John Morrison. We share a morning cup of coffee; my mind wanders, thinking of all the good days this valley has provided. My 12 years of skiing in the Sierra pales in comparison to John's 40+ years – this same feeling must be so deep for him. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude to have such a strong partner with a congruent vision and level of motivation. We set off to drive up the canyon in the dark hours of the morning. Tall snowbanks line the road.

The plows can't keep up with the parade of storms, and we are forced to stop a few miles away from the normal parking area. Eventually, we pull our heel risers up and start trudging uphill, finding our way by headlamp in the dark. We take turns breaking trail up to our knees and, at times, up to our hips, waiting for the eastern glow. Climbing past old mining relics we move through an inversion layer and finally bask in the sun above a layer of clouds. We've chosen a descent that tilts towards the afternoon sun. We are in no rush to end our misty mountain hopping. With boards on our backs we scramble out a ridge to our gully of choice and gaze down nearly two vertical miles to the valley below.

Eventually, we immerse ourselves into the natural world surrounding us, trading the elevation we'd earned for turn after turn of effortless bliss. Throughout the week we break dozens of thousands of vertical feet of trail in deep powder, stand on top of breathtaking peaks, and ski seldomly visited areas. The playground is fully open. None of the days feel particularly hard individually, but by the end of our session fatigue sets in, and finally, the sky goes gray, warranting a welcomed rest day. A season blessed with 900+ inches of snow is not without its challenges. The town of Mammoth Lakes was in a state of emergency for much of the winter.

Road closures, collapsing roofs, sketchy driving conditions, lack of supplies, and never-ending snow removal defined the winter just as much as the good skiing did. For many, the winter of 2023 will be remembered as a year of natural disaster. Homeowners' backs were strained from removing thousands of pounds of snow from their living spaces. Business owners struggled to keep their doors open in the midst of the storms, and no doubt took a hit with all the road closures. At times it felt like the barrage of storms, along with their impacts, would never end. Even with all the toiling, I know I'm not alone in the feeling of wishing we could do it all over again. It's left me wondering, did that really happen the way I remember it? Was it all a dream?