When I got up at 6.15 am this morning, it was the first day for what seemed weeks, but was actually just one week, that it was not raining - currently. A quick telephone call to a friend, and we were on for a ski day. By the time we picked our friend up one hour later, it was raining. Rain became snow as we drove up the Whitewater Ski Hill Road, but it still felt awfully wet parking at 1500 metres.
We broke trail - middling on the trail-breaking scale - to 2180 m at the top of White Queen where unusual wind patterns had created unusual wind features. Skiing down was good, really, really, really good. Deep and dry until we hit about 1800 m, where the snow got a bit damp, then 1700 m where it felt frankly wet, and finally, 1650 m, where we stopped. Our next run, we skied only down to 1750 m, quality over quantity winning the day.
Back up, skiing in a blizzard, we topped out on White Queen again and descended the west face back to the cross-country trails. The skiing was very good with awesome coverage, although a bit wet for the last 100 or so metres.
Skiing back across the bridge, we encountered a group of two who had dug huge holes in the ski track and had two ropes stretched across the bridge so they could practice crevasse rescue. I don't know whose asinine idea this is, but it has become increasingly popular in recent years. If you are ever tempted to do this, don't. It's stupid, inconveniences everyone who has to ski past, and, yes, we will ski over your rope with our metal edges.
April Felt Like January Today