0307 glenn

Glenn stopped by for a visit. He was in the area so he just popped in for a little while. Okay, okay, Glenn doesn’t “pop”. He spent a few hours at the Fred Hall Fishing Show at the Long Beach Convention Center and stopped by on his way home. Okay? Is that better? Sheesh!

We talked about changes in our lives and the great times we used to have in our thirties. He just hit 50 a few months ago, but I’m still under 50 (less than a year away still counts as “under”).

Then he spotted my CPAP machine. If you have to ask, then you don’t know what it’s for. I use it to treat my sleep apnea. I used to be tired during the daytime and awake at night. He reminisced about a memory, which I shall now share (whether you like it or not).

About twenty years ago, I went on a ski trip with my club (the old LAASC), to the ski areas around Lake Tahoe. We stayed in Reno and hooked up with friends from the Nisei Ski Club (NSC is from the Bay Area).

One day, we were at lunch at Northstar. The group I was with (about seven of us) decided to ski down a set of runs that were only accessible by one lift. So when lunch was over, we broke away from the others and made our way toward the runs on the backside.

The top of the lift was where three runs began, and although they had different terrain, all three ended at the bottom of the same lift. My group headed down one of the runs and ran into a mogul field a third of the way down. At the time, I hadn’t figured moguls out (now I like them), so I fell several times while my friends made their way through them. Soon, they disappeared from sight and I slowly made my way through the field.

Halfway through the mogul field was a traverse that looked like an access road on the trail map. I decided that I’d find an easier way down on one of the other two runs and meet up with my group at the top of the lift.

The runs were not immediately adjacent or visible from each other and there were parts of the traverse that were flat and had no slope, so I had to push myself along part of the way. At one point, I stopped to rest, so I put the tops of my poles on my chest and leaned forward.

When I caught my breath and felt rested, I straightened up. I looked around. The shadows looked different. I looked at my watch. The lifts closed in about forty-five minutes. Somehow, two hours had passed!

I quickly finished the traverse and skied down the next run. Fortunately, it didn’t have any moguls. At the bottom of the lift, I didn’t see anyone from my group, so I got in line and took the lift to the top.

It was at the top of the lift that I ran into my group. They were about to contact the Ski Patrol and report me as missing. They told me that when they realized that I didn’t make it down, a couple of them waited at the bottom while the rest of the group went up the lift and then down each of the three runs to look for me. It was after they did this a few times when I showed up.

I told them what had happened and we all had a laugh about it. As we were skiing a couple of runs to finish off the day, a friend said to me, “I guess it’s a good thing that bears hibernate in the winter!”

Hmmm. I hadn’t thought about that.