Mike was starting to get itchy about the September ski. We couldn’t really make a decision, we daydreamed about a freak storm dumping 30 inches of smoke on Mission Peak like a few years ago……….probably not. I spied a tiny little patch on the north side of Ingles peak, maybe a novelty ski somewhere. We started to hear whispers of a storm headed our way, even the wiley Wild who is nowhere near the snow knew about it. Mike consulted his weather guru, and it was looking like it might actually happen. The plan: preposition Sunday, it was pouring rain, would there be snow, no webcams showing snow. Plan A ski dreamy pow on the Muir glacier, plan B Tatoosh environs novelty ski, plan C go home skunked. We arrived at Paradise early enough to find a parking spot, loaded up, and just as we started up the trail we ran into another guy packing ski gear, “are you from Wenatchee?” he asked. Turned out to be a long time TAY er, so we walked together. Pleasant conversation helped the time pass and before it seemed possible we were putting on skins to march on 3-ish inches of fresh. We were a little time constrained so we climbed a thousand and transitioned. Absolutely wonderful turns, not much of a stretch to call it power, a little wind pressed and getting just a tiny bit hot, but dreamy nonetheless. September in the sack, 11 years for Mike, one month short of 11 years for me.
Old dogs,same trick!