Snow in late March? While a heat wave swept the eastern United States last week, record-setting levels of March snow fell here in Oregon.
Snowflakes dusted our Beaverton house on three separate occasions in the past couple of weeks, and we’re loving it. Now that Baby Lena has reached the ripe old age of 6 months, she can more deeply appreciate the fun in the air as snow collects on the ground. My middle and high school students had no complaints about scoring an extra snow day off from school, either!
My dad and I enjoyed the spring snow in our special way last week: skiing on 24” of fresh powder at Mt. Hood Meadows. Diagnosing my dad’s skiing accident/ concussion the week earlier, the doc instructed him to recover for 10 days before attempting any sort of “contact sport.”
Of course, Bo didn’t let his nearly 70 years of age and some wimpy concussion keep him from the ski slopes. Waiting until Day #10 on the dot, we cruised up to Mt. Hood and quenched our need for speed. Bo’s skiing day was cut short after another crash left his head (now covered with a shiny new ski helmet) feeling woozy and dizzy again. We probably should have waited a couple more days, but I’m so proud of Bo for trying!
Admittedly, the fresh snow was so deep that I didn’t fare much better. I had more wipeouts (and not just on black diamond difficulty runs) than I can ever remember having in a single day. I’ll go even further and say that the bottoms of my skis gave the tops of my skis stiff completion for being exposed to the most daylight.
Judging by the thunderous response from the ski lift riders overhead, my most spectacular wipeout was a result of a huge jump that sent me flying out of the trees, under the chairlift, and landing just below the Face run. I use the word “landing” very generously, because the aftermath probably looked like something out of a wacky comic strip. I clearly should have bailed.
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