One and Done. Got to AM a bit after high noon. Rode up Roundhouse and was soaking wet by the time I pushed off the chair. Goggles were speckled with raindrops lending a purple diamond kaleidoscopic visage to the mix. Snow was like rotten Slurpees thickened by corn starch. Rode down "Ladie's Slalom" to "Gunner's Knob" and called it a day. I may have become a snow snob (or I just needed wider, heavier skis and a few friends to keep the flow going).
“The best place in the world to ski is where you’re skiing that day.” — Warren Miller
