By Cambria Kelly and Rosie Lu
This Presidents’ Week, we went to Tahoe: first to Heavenly, then to Kirkwood. The first day was super snowy and low visibility, and guess who forgot their contacts and phone? Cambria Kelly. Day 2 was the best ski weather ever, incredible power, warm sunshine, shorter lines, and good food. Lovely!
Our first full day of skiing at Heavenly greeted us with impossibly strong winds, toe-numbing cold, and thick flurries of snow we could barely see through, which we don’t think can be described as heavenly. We began on the California side, taking the surprisingly crowded Gunbarrel chairlift and traversing to the mid-mountain area, from which we took the Sky (sky-reaching!) Express chairlift to an even more frigid peak in a fruitless attempt to escape the relentless cold by switching to Nevada’s face of the mountain. Though this area’s temperatures and visibility were still less than ideal, the lifts extended more horizontally instead of vertically, meaning less elevation and therefore nicer weather. We got in a grand total of six-ish rounds, with many, many warming-up retreats to the East Peak lodge. Using these breaks to replace toe warmers was the ultimate lifesaver—the tiny self-heating sachets usually used as handwarmers, but with an adhesive that stuck on our balaclavas and helmets, basically created a heating suit. Another joy that contributed to our ability to brave the cold was, of course, unrestrained munching, between dried fruit bars and piping-hot bowls of chili and white cheddar mac and cheese. After leaving the resort, the day ended with a hearty meal at South Lake Tahoe’s local German Bierhaus, Himmel Haus.
Day 2 was sunshine and rainbows, in diabolical comparison to the previous day. We drove down to Kirkwood, hoping to escape the evidently inescapable crowd that the fresh powder would attract—but the only parking spots available at that point were at least a mile from the resort, leaving us to walk around halfway and take a lifesaving shuttle the remaining distance. In the spirit of spontaneity and to celebrate the coming of the sun, we switched boards (Rosie from skis to snowboard, and Cami from snowboard to skis), and took an adventure down the fluffy bunny hill. Snowboarding for skiers is an absolute nightmare—unloading the lift means an inevitable fall, and turning is a disgustingly abdominal-focused movement, entirely different from the lateral swaying of skiing. While newbie Rosie tumbled down the hill, our “new skier” glided backwards down the hill, attempting to provide a private snowboarding lesson (somebody lied about not having experience). Eventually, we had enough of the disorienting new gear and switched back, traversing to the main lodge area. The Solitude Lift (ironically a three-seater) moved extremely slowly, but opened up access to at least five blue trails with perfect powder. The neighboring Cornice Express likewise offered impressive conditions—usually, all ice and biting wind, but today, fluffy moguls perfect for skiers. For our singular break, Kirkwood’s main village provided the freshest food we had on the slopes this trip. The mac and cheese from yesterday? Glammed up with BBQ brisket. There was even a knock-off Chipotle, and the worker so very graciously scooped us extra guacamole. Shorter lines, good food, and golden sunshine, our last day was a perfect end to this chaotically awesome adventure.
