After skiing every month for 96 months in a row, I never imagined that I might miss month 97 because of a clerical oversight. Once described as a “magnificent planner”, as I get older I seem to be less and less capable of keeping track of the little things. For example, what day is it? What date is it? How many days are in November???
Skiing in November is easy, at least, historically speaking. I knew going in that I wouldn’t ski the first two weekends of the month, which wasn’t much of a concern. I’d I skied on continuous snow from 5,400-9,500’ in mid-October, so skiing the third weekend of November would be a walk in the (national) park.
But by November 16, and snow still hadn’t come. (It never came. This year we had the driest November on record in 43-years.)
I pivoted to Plan B: ski on the last day of the month, my only option since we were heading to the east coast for Thanksgiving. No big deal, we’d be flying home on Saturday, November 29. I’d have all day Sunday to ski. (Note: waiting until the last day of the month to ski is not something I recommend. With the exception of our traditional Summer Twofer, I’ve only done this once before. On October 31, 2012, my buddy Johnny and I went skiing at Paradise on Halloween and, after watching the weather every day while praying for cold temps and high-precipitation, we arrived to find conditions even worse than anticipated. All the Gore-Tex in the world didn’t keep us dry.)
Only, Sunday wasn’t November 30 as I had been thinking. Sunday was, in fact, December 1. Not a big issue unless you’re playing a game with no wiggle room, and I had zero wiggles to give. Having realized this clerical error on a Monday evening, with no opportunity to ski before we left for the east coast, I did what anyone would do when faced with a healthy dose of reality: I panicked! Well, first I posted about what an IDIOT I am to social media, then I panicked!
There was a sliver of hope. We were leaving New York at 9am, and set to arrive home just before 1pm Pacific Time! Assuming the weather was okay, and we didn’t oversleep our alarm, and the flight wasn’t delayed, I just might make it back in time for November turns.
Feverishly I packed my car with my ski gear and threw my east coast bag on top. I left the car in a secret, secure location near the airport for a quick exit to whatever mountain had snow when we landed 10-days hence. I flew east and consoled myself with pizza, slice after mouthwatering slice. Might as well live a little!
The flight home landed on time, a few minutes early even. Thanks to the magic of technology on airplanes, I was able to confirm plans with a few girlfriends before we even touched down. J and I raced through the airport and into a cab. Peeling out of the secret parking lot, I set my phone on the fastest course to snow. In this case I’d be driving two hours southeast, where I had a ski pass and the lifts were running! En route I joined forces with my completely amazing and totally ridiculous friends Cori, Nikki, and Theresa (CNT for short, KCNT if you count me). Together we rode into the sunset… err, icy, man-made snow slopes at Crystal Mountain, as the case may be. We parked in the very front row, got on a chairlift at 3:10pm, and rode through to Last Chair.
Then we had a beer to celebrate getting 97 Months of TAY by the skin of my teeth. And nachos. Because what’s a day of skiing without beer and nachos?
November 30, 2019 | Crystal Mountain Resort
My rules for Turns All Year are “skis on my feet for an hour”. This can be skinning uphill, riding a chairlift, or skiing downhill. Some folks think you need to earn it, but not me, which is why this little sojourn to Crystal (which had fortuitously opened two days prior) totally counted.
The skiing was unremarkable, mostly dust on crust. I did learn that I desperately need to sharpen my skis and that new gloves might be a good idea, but mostly this trip reinforced the incredibleness of the Turns All Year community, who will do pretty much anything to make sure you keep your streak alive. Thanks to everyone who offered words of encouragement and ideas for how to make this work (too bad the new indoor skiing facility in New Jersey wasn’t open yet!), and most especially think you to Cori, Nikki, and Theresa who gave up their Saturday to spend four hours in the car for an hour of mediocre skiing. You’re the best.
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