Codger on skis

At summit of Mt. Lincoln (8,383 ft.), highest point at Sugar Bowl ski area

Just to keep the record clear, after that last post -- yes, slopes were skied.  Even by your favorite but aging correspondent.  At Sugar Bowl, looming high above Donner Lake, with expansive views of the Sierras. 

The weather was too bright and sunny, the sky was too blue, the snow was too well-groomed, the company was too congenial -- and I was too cheerfully optimistic -- for me to even consider refusing. 

My sister and I -- the oldest two of our group of six skiers -- skied a half day, almost entirely on intermediate slopes.  We felt by then we had made our point with the youngsters, who stuck it out for another couple of hours.

As claimed and predicted in my prior post, I didn't forget how to ski during my nine years of abstention -- although it took one rather shaky run at the outset to get the feel for it again.  After that, it was like old times.  Except that when I occasionally fell, struggling back up again was more difficult than I recall from the misty past.  But the skiing itself was easy because of the spring-like weather and the way the slopes had been groomed -- almost overly groomed.  We weren't fighting moguls or icy conditions as we came down the fairly steep runs.

So I'd gladly do it again, being no doubt deceived as to my abilities by the excellent conditions.  But then I was similarly deceived, and for the same reasons, innumerable times even in my prime.