Mammoth Mountain

I think they call the cool spikes to the left of the main peak THE MINARETS. I only remember the name from my 2005 Sierra Club trip near the Devil's Postpile. I was eager to go visit the area again- the postpile and Rainbow falls- until I learned that it was all closed for the season and even trespassing would require an 18-mile hike without a snowmobile!

My three-day Lift Operators training started on Thursday, but Saturday was all mine. I drove up onto the Mountain and was skiing early. The things felt awkward on my feet and I took the Discovery run several times. I nearly fell on the thin west slope- my third slow ride down the hill-I wouldn't have been the only one on my butt!

I rode up the lift first with a man from San Diego who was working on his second day of trying to learn the Snowboard. Despite the bruises on his body he seemed to have a smile on his face and was a little confused when he learned that I had come from Kansas. "You ain' in Kansas no more!" The joke seems to be much more common up here than the Twister and Toto ones that were rampant on my visit to Colorado.

They called it a Bluebird-Day- referring to the cloudless sky and the warm air. People on the hill favor this weather, though it seems to be the worst for business while there is so little snow on the ground.

Upon Graduating to The Broadway- the most popular intermediate run on the hill- I rode up lift #1 with a New Jersey couple who warned me of the ice patches on the top. From there, the minarets and whatever peak that is were stunning! I drifted down past the Stump Alley lift to avoid the traffic and take some pics of riders coming off the ridge. ..

With the camera stowed I crossed my fingers and left the safety of flat. It was easy to go as slow as I wanted- Once I found that lifting my uphill ski would let me turn fast and brake. All that stuff they tell you about making a V with your skis to slow down was kinda useless on the steeper parts of the Broadway. I dared to increase my speed on the following lifts and found it amazing how quickly this whole skiing thing came back to me! I did run after run and felt that I'd mastered the Broadway! From there, it was to the top!

They call it "The top of the Sierra." I slid from the peak of Mammoth down to whatever shoot or bowl is a few closer to the Roadrunner and held my breath for the first big drop!

The sound of my skis was something that I'd forgotten and love! Its something close to the sound of a rushing stream, only it was powerful and at my command (most of the time). The fastest part was done and I couldn't help but look up to see what I'd conquered! Cold powdered ice drifted from the slope- The stuff that I'd helped to make airborne on my way down.

I slowed down to pass an injured skier and hit a patch of hard ice that wouldn't allow me to turn or slow. For only a moment I was out of control, but it definitely gave me a nice scare!
I was fortunate not to fall until a little ways after the ice- My first spill of the day, and head-first!
I skipped to a stop and carried one ski uphill to retrieve the other. "Wipe-Out!" a passing boarder shouted in spirit. I was still a bit rattled to offer any good come-backs. ...'took the run to the bottom of Chair #2, the Stump Alley Express, to take me back up to the top of Broadway for my last exhausted go of the day - just a few hours before closing. I'd forgotten how sore it makes you, too... I might just enjoy it up here!