Rose is officially closed, but we poached a bit. Hit up Mt. Rose with my buddy Craig. We convened in the main parking lot around 4 and loaded our gear into his truck and drove up to the summit. We skied into the resort on the maintenance road and then boot-packed up to "Northwest". There were some freshly made turns from some spectral skier unseen by us, but we skied around them. Snow was genuine Sierra Cement/Sludge. I perfected my death-wedge- christie-skip turn (in professional circles it's merely called an "Uphill Christie"). The runout back to the parking lot was super slick and fast: your skis basically got locked into your tracks and it felt like if I came out of the track I would wipeout fierce. Crazy. Scary. Of course we went back for seconds (I tried to puss out, but my buddy politely suggest that I man up; he did concede a bit to my wimpishness and we opted for a lower line, though). Second run we hit up "Ramsey's" and it was pure creme brule (aka breakable crust). More death-wedge-christie-skipping and the death luge straightline back to the truck. On the bright side it was fresh snow (at least 4"). Woot.
“The best place in the world to ski is where you’re skiing that day.” — Warren Miller
