Okay, yes I know these pics have nothing to do with my story. But today I rode the lift with two different Platty converts – one with a house “five minutes from Hunter,” and he was choosing Plattekill because of it’s old-school / homey / family feel now that he’s skiing with the kids and grandkids, and also the snow and terrain is great. “It’s a great little mountain,” he said, “but it’s unfair to call it little. There’s nothing small about it.”
He’d skied Plattekill as a kid but then turned to other mountains. And you know the moral of the story….
The other person had tried Belleayre on Saturday and then came here. Now all sorts of rumors have flown about lifts not running at the Bell, and I don’t quite know what happened, but this man, he was like, “Where have I been?” He was kicking himself for only just discovering it and going on about how great the terrain and vibe is. Then we proceeded to talk about altitude sickness and skiing out West and the measly 4” I had at Squaw.
But I can’t show you pictures of these people…. There’s one problem with blogging about skiing. I like to ski too much and hate stopping to take pictures. Anyway, this isn’t my usual long post about something, about a character, or personality but just these two folks who I happened to ride the lift with. Not that there were lines, but I always figure if you’re skiing alone, why waste a chair? You never know who you might meet. Next, I rode up with Dieter on the ski patrol and somehow we got onto German nudists. But there you go.
Oh and the conditions were great. There’ve been three days in a row where Platty’s gotten more snow than I saw in my entire two weeks in Tahoe. There’s another moral in that story too.