First Tracks

It's comming on ski season. Here is an excerpt from an article I'm writing for RLife Magazine.

-M

The day starts early. Like 5:00 early. The alarm goes off and there’s that moment of truth, cliché though it may be: nap a while longer and get a normal start, or hit the road in the dark and be ready for first tracks. But then the phone rings and it’s all on.
Real skiers have the coffee ready the night before and the gear already loaded up. All that’s necessary is clothing, lots of it, and the car keys, and the dog. Some of us take it that serious. The drive only takes us a few minutes once I’ve stopped to pick up Dave. And we’re there, past the golf courses, past the east bowl parking lot, past the main parking lot and almost up to Mt. Rose Pass. There are usually a few others in the lot, usually Lee’s green Ranger with the Mountain Gazette sticker, or Carrie’s Forester with the snowmachine sticker, all parked barely straight and looking hastily abandoned, though it’s cold and dim in the strangled light of the morning.