President's Snowstorn

The late afternoon is closing with light and cloud in layers of yellow, gray and blue against the spring lush grasses. We’ve come down from the snow, which started at about Forest Ranch, or 1500 feet.


The vehicle here is gas powered and gets about 20-22mpg- our old Izuzu Trooper that Michael has kept running despite some pretty complex problems. It’s been our mountain vehicle from before the VV and we can sleep in it and go most anywhere in it. He was going to sell it but couldn’t quite let go.

The Humboldt Road into Butte Meadows was closed so we kept going up Hwy 32 to a snowplow pullout for the “B Line” which is a logging road cut through to Butte Meadows that we’ve skied before. We were able to follow a track in from yesterday which was good because the snow was mid-thigh. It led to a snow child who greeted us with chip eyes and branch arms. The snow child is where the people of the track turned around leaving their image and likeness to enjoy greeting any other possible wanderers.
We went on up through the woods. As usual, our way petered out but we got to a clear cut with a view to its margins as the quiet storm created a natural meadow for the silent ring of pine and fir.

For much of the way I was thinking about my friend Theresa. Last night we saw the local production of Tommy, the rock opera by the Who. It was worth the hearing loss as it was an exuberant expression of love for Greg Tropea, another person who is living with cancer. His legacy of support for theater was much better served by that energy than by sorrow. I just want to bring Theresa with me and show her everything- how the snow coats and piles up on things so prettily and then how it falls off with a whoosh or a plop. It’s just such a simple joy to ski in a snow storm.

“See me, feel me, touch me. Heal me.”