skyride 2011

This is the view that made me fall in love with Northern Arizona half my life ago:

It's also the view you can see from the Skyride chair up at Arizona Snowbowl in the summer and fall, just as the aspens are turning to gold before your eyes.

So many beautiful sights to behold, so much wonder. And then you look up and see what's keeping the chair attached - ever so precariously - to the cable  (yipe!). Kinda like life, in a way (am I right?):

I love this particularly helpful reminder (uh, yeah, I'll keep that in mind, kay?):

And then there are those crazy, off-season snowboarders, always leaving evidence behind in the trees to remind us of the - er, uh - fun we'll all be having come winter:

If it was March and we were getting close to St. Patrick's Day, I'd go ahead and say something witty, like, "Erin go bra!" But it's October, so I'll refrain. Oh, wait.

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So, the last day of the ski season was tons of fun. Snowbowl ended up extending the closing for another weekend because of the great snow base still in place. It was a little hairy at first, because they only had one chairlift turning - and it was the one that went all the way to the top of the mountain. Sure, you can get off at Midway, but on the last day? Who wants to do that? So, our first run of the day, sans warm-up on the more bunny slope-like Hart Prairie, was straight down from the top. We made it just fine, though, and throughout the rest of the day we got to see all the beautiful sights, like Sumo wrestlers, cross dressers and chickens.

...er...huh?

Fortunately, for the guys, there were plenty of cute ski bunnies dressed as fairies, butterflies, etc. at this end-of-the-season tradition as well. (And, yes, that is a bottle of ketchup standing to the left of the chicken. I didn't get his friend Mustard in the picture, but she was there...as was their mutual friend, Hot Dog. I wish I'd gotten a pic of the three of them loading the triple chair.)

So, that was big fun. But then things got a bit rough last week. We were walloped by another out-of-the-blue snowstorm, for one - and Snowbowl was already closed by that point, so it's not like we got to really enjoy it. And I guess it wasn't totally out-of-the-blue. The weather folks saw it coming, and I think it was somehow tied into the rain system that's been walloping California as well. At any rate, my body went back into Permafrost/hibernation mode, and back out came the boots for keeping our tootsies warm and the snowscraper for clearing the windshield every morning before driving the kids to the bus stop. Have I mentioned that I am SO OVER winter?

Then, my daughter's very best friend in the entire universe (VBFEU) moved to another state. The girls were born on the same day in the same hospital, though her mom and I didn't meet each other until they were in preschool. They've been pretty much joined at the hip ever since, and my heart hurts not only for my sad girl, but because I'm going to miss that cute little mug myself. I got to give VBFEU a ride on Zzari before she left (she's completely horse crazy, much like I was at that age), and I made her promise that she'd come back for more rides someday.

But then things got a little better. Friday night was cooking group night, hosted at the lovely home of one of the ladies in the group. She made these outrageous seafood enchiladas with cilantro cream sauce. The rest of us brought things like seasoned rice, a shrimp dip, an avocado salad and flan (that last one was my contribution. It's a tempermental thing, flan: Turn your back on that carmelizing sugar for just one second too long and you'll have charred goo on your hands. The caramel sauce turned out great the second time I tried it, though).

Then, yesterday, the snow and rain finally cleared off, leaving me with the perfect opportunity to dive into my outside chores. First, I planted the live Christmas tree I bought back in December. Then, I finished clearing the dead foliage from around the red hot pokers on the side of the house. I'll know how to handle those better this fall (clipping the greenery back after the blooms are done), so I don't end up with quite as much ugly dead stuff next spring. While I was doing this, one of my neighbors whistled to me from across the fence. He had told me about the divinity that is pickled eggplant (I'd taken his word for it, but I'd had my doubts), and now he had brought over a sample. Okay, have you ever eaten pickled eggplant? It really is divine. This version was from an old "secret" (not anymore) family recipe from southern Italy, and it involved cider vinegar, garlic and crushed red pepper. I can't wait to make it myself.

This morning, I got some work done and then said to heck with it and saddled up Zzari for a long ride out in the National Forest. The trail was slippery in places from the recent moisture, and there were still some patches of snow in the shady spots. But it was good for both of us to head out and stretch our legs and our brains. It was good to remember that life has a way of providing opportunities for re-balancing when things seem to tilt toward the not-much-fun side.Follow @nicole_mcinnes

the gnar

I am such a huge fan of spring, especially this year, when we're coming out of a record-breaking/really tough winter. But even I have to admit that there are some things I'm going to miss until that first snow falls again somewhere around the holidays later this year. I'm going to miss these views, for instance, and I feel lucky to have been able to enjoy them several times this season:

I have to say, I felt like an especially brave cookie this week when I was convinced (railroaded? Nah, I was definitely ready) to go all the way to the top of the mountain and ski down:

Up, up you go, and when you finally reach the summit of Agassiz (pronounced "Ag'-u-see" for you non-Northern Arizonans), you're at 11,500 feet. The first thing you see getting off the chair is the Ski Patrol building with all the emergency rescue equipment ready to go:

But what instills even more confidence are the signs at the entrance to the Backcountry (which is where most of the headline-making accidents and avalanches take place):

I especially love the skulls and crossbones. Who says the US Forest Service doesn't have a morbid sense of humor?

Then you turn around to look back at the lift, and you realize what you've gotten yourself into (Black Diamond, be-atches):

What, me worry? (Okay, yes, I am aware that I look like The Great Gazoo from the Flintstones, but as a horse girl, I'm a big believer in brain buckets):

Plus, how worried can a person really be when you look out across the horizon and see this? My house is somewhere over there in the distance:

So, I had a blast making it down to the lodge. The snow was a perfect combination of crunchy and soft - sort of like skiing on a mostly-frozen Slurpee. I've discovered that I don't like icy conditions and that even super deep powder can be a bit heavy for my taste. Before heading home to see the kids off the school bus, I got in one more run. This time, we decided to hit the Terrain Park, which is where the snowboarders like to play:

Not everyone was having a great day. This guy was later heard saying he thought he broke his collarbone:

But when it worked, it was beautiful:

We'll all have to say goodbye to the local ski season on April 11, which is when Snowbowl closes. But I like to think I have some improved skills under my belt for later this year.

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mad snow skillz

The kids and I spent Saturday up at the Arizona Snowbowl, where they got to ski all day while I hung out at the finish line of the USSA sanctioned slalom race hosted by the Flagstaff Alpine Ski & Snowboard Team. We got there first thing in the morning, before the lifts opened:



To be honest, I wasn't terribly crazy about the idea of leaving the lodge:

But one of my former riding students was competing that day, and I've been wanting to see her race for years. Since her mom is a good friend, I was treated to a front row seat at one of the best views imaginable:


It was also a great place to watch the recreational skiers and snowboarders cruising and crashing down the slope that ran perpendicular to the race course:

Not that I'm one to kid anybody about crashing. I'm strictly a blue/green trail gal myself - snowplowing all the way. The racers at Snowbowl were all young'uns, and their talent was extreme:

They reminded me of the little hotdoggers who used to whip past at 50 mph up at Tahoe, just as I was learning to keep my ski tips together in adult ski school:

And that was our Saturday...just another day in Paradise:

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