Its been forever since Ive sat here at the desk and filtered through the reader, scanned images and scouted around my favorite Internet watering holes, but here I am tonight finally, albeit late. The ice cracks quietly in the glass, smoothing out the vodka as it ages….mocking me as it dies; the Droid is grumbling at my neglect and Collie Budz plays in the skullcandies as I pound this out. Its a good night, tired but good.
We spent the weekend chasing powder stashes in the cliffs and heavy timber high above any groomers at Stevens Pass and Im still feeling the burn from the effort; when we werent being backcountry outlaws, we were standing around fires, sharing booze and stories deep into the nights. My addiction to tree slides is showing itself this week, my shin took a gnarly hit from a branch I caught on the tail end of what would have been a textbook rail; pretty tender right now. The mountains picked up a few bonus inches of snow this weekend and we exploited the hell out of it where we could, riding lifts but ultimately abandoning the predictability of that for hardcore traverses into deep timber, super narrow passes and hidden meadows. The region above the moho lots was exemplary all weekend and Chief Bowl was sick as hell, even if the traverse was super hairy; your edges better be damn sharp if you want to get over there…razor sharp. That traverse blows from just under Double Diamond all the way around the switchback and over the small dro; be prepared.
Another really good rip is Corona Bowl, specifically the rock face/cliff area, whatever the hell you call it. Its a double diamond and tech as hell but easily done in these conditions if you ride smart. Pop your turns, use your edge and take advantage of your hands on the rock walls to get to the stash directly before the final drop. Its good down there, big time. Lower Corona was slashed out by Saturday but you can blame my crew for that so no complaints there.
I love spring sessions, the girls are out in hoodies and tanks, the dudes are mellow and fun , the sun hangs out longer, the booze seems sweeter and life is a little richer for it all. The snow succumbs under your crushing blows as if it wants more, whatever your doing to it isnt enough and it talks to you, telling you to go harder, faster and louder. I think its right about now when everyone realizes this is it, these are the final weeks of the year for locals and as we take stock of what we’ve done, we laugh and lift a glass in unison, then relax. The major drive is over, we have our days counted and most of us are over 35 for the year which is a solid achievement; now its time to hunt the backcountry fresh, kill the soft grooms and talk to a few more girls in the lift lines. The ride is over, Spring is the victory lap.

I have incredible news about our cherished Lower Motorhome Lot: there is a damn good chance it will be left to us in the 2k11 season; nothing final or official but I have it on good authority that we will be allowed to park there and support our local mountain for another season. All will be revealed come April 2, but there is new hope in the tribe that we will survive.
After that the real questions arise: will I be your beloved Mayor again next year? 3 seasons straight…..its gonna take alot of booze votes to get re-elected again I reckon.
I have packets built for next weekend, flyers built for the Crystal Mountain Rendezvous which takes place in two weeks from now, comment cards for you to fill out from Stevens Pass, telling them how much you love the Lower Lot and a few other related items for your consumption. About the comment cards: you can fill em out and leave them with me to turn in on Sunday night, or you can drop em off yourself at the guest services kiosk. Tell Stevens how much you use the lot, how much you love the lot and why it shouldnt go away. Its a big deal, and if there was ever a chance to save it, it is now! I will be going rig to rig passing out info and accepting your booze Mayoral pittance.
Here is the sound of Spring Shred:

See you guys out there, thanks for reading.
Hench.