Walking across Kirkwood Meadows Drive, with my 15 year old snowboard looped through my right arm, I felt pretty laid back about the day ahead. It was a Sunday, the first day of my weekend, but for most others in my environment, it was a work day, as usual. Although sometimes friends from the Bay Area come into town, or others from South Lake or Carson Valley with Monday to Friday jobs make the drive, no calls or texts were received leading me to believe I might have company on this Sunday. This Sunday, February 12th, I would enjoy a peaceful and mellow day of solo riding. Sweet.

 

After traversing through the trees from Chair 7 (Timber Creek Express) to Chair 6 (Cornice Express), I am in the lift line to shoot straight back up the mountain. A quick high five and a huge smile to the ticker scanner, and suddenly I hear my name shouted, coming from a direction I cannot distinguish. Swiveling my head, laden with my purple Smith helmet, and OTP Smith goggles, I see a familiar smile. But that is all that is familiar! All in black – black jacket,  pants, helmet, and goggles – I do not recognize this person at first.

 

Let me take a few minutes to talk about recognizing someone while he/she is in snow gear. When skiing or snowboarding (or working) on your average day (not Spring skiing) we are covered head to toe in gear. Literally, the only unique features of a person that you can see while geared up is a smile and a nose, and even that is sometimes covered up! On the super cold, snowy, or windy days, we will adorn our faces with buffs and face masks. Therefore, we have two different ways to be able to recognize someone: a) one’s outfit b) a very unique and distinguishable feature. For example, a friend of mine has a pair of snowboard pants that one could never confuse for another person. They are plaid patterned, and almost always with a proper amount of dirt. They are well loved and well used, and everyone on this mountain knows who that is when they see those pants carving by, or scooting into the lift line.  Having one unique piece of garb, or even an entire unique outfit, is so useful and important, that I personally have made it a focus while purchasing my entire new snowboard setup and ensemble. It is not a vanity thing. It is simply to make myself recognizable to my friends.  

 

The other way is with a distinguishable physical feature that is actually visible even when covered (or at least most of the time). For example, I almost always have my incredibly long hair in two braids, while working or playing, and both friends, colleagues and customers have recognized me just based on this. Okay, actually the other big feature is the smile. Having started my ski industry career as a ticket scanner, I received many compliments on my smile. But think about it – it is literally the only thing one can see, besides one’s hair depending on the length.  A unique mustache or beard is a good option for men.

 

Alright, enough about that.

 

I recognize a familiar smile – one that I know that I enjoy.

 

“Natasha? Is that you?” I know he’s looking at me because he is facing me, but I cannot see his eyes through the black lenses.

“Ethan? I do not recognize you in this outfit!” I respond, hoping I am right.

 

“Yeah! Let’s ride up together!”

 

Ethan is the director for my “sister” department, for the entire Tahoe region. Yeah, he’s kind of a big deal. He is one of those people who seem to always be plastered with a genuinely happy smile. Moreover, he has got the ski industry stoke level high, at nearly all times, accompanied with a laid back surfer voice that makes you feel more comfortable and relaxed while talking to someone quite higher up in the company.

 

Riding up the lift, we shoot the shit about the snow, a bit of work, and a bit of life. Nearing the top, we decide on taking Upper Monte Wolfe’s down, based on my suggestion as it is one of my favorite runs on the mountain, depending on the condition. Traversing to the right on the carved out tracks from earlier morning riders, my right foot leading the way, I flex my abs, bend my knees, and concentrate harder than usual, desperately wanting to stay off my ass (which is almost never the case on this traverse), attempting to avoid embarrassment in front of this expert rider.  I am still riding my gear my mom gifted to me when I was 16, and I am only in season two of my ski industry career. This guy probably has countless pairs of skis, and is maybe on his 10th or more season in the industry. Yet, I still feel the need to impress.

 

My board slows to just next to his skis, and we take a moment to look around and soak in the absolutely mind blowing views. Volcanic rock protruding high above layers and layers of thick white fluffy snow.  Tall green trees decorating the hills intermittently, and in dense groups. The clear blue sky, without a single cloud floating around, and the sun shining bright into our goggles. Sigh. “What a beautiful day,” stating the obvious, with one corner of my mouth raised a bit higher in a blissful closed mouth smile.

 

“Shall we?” he asks, with a mischievous grin.

 

“Heck yes. Let’s hit it!”

 

I let him lead, and we traverse a bit more, then fall into The Drain.  Hoops and hollers shoot from my throat and bounce off the walls of snow, as more cheers echo in all directions. Skiers and riders are entering this gully of fun from the top of The Wall (Chair 10) as well, so I once again am laying on the focus even heavier than usual, mixed with a small boost of confidence, and a whole heap of fun.  My hips twist around small trees, and my knees bend then release to float off small bumps and ledges naturally carved by the features under the snow, and other riders hitting the same kicker.

 

As we bring our planks to a slower speed, entering the flat open area near the lifts, I begin to recognize two other familiar faces, just before the bottom of Chair 10 – The Wall. “Kelly? Kevin? Is that you?” I ask, trying to stare through their goggle lenses.

“Hey, Natasha!”

“So glad I ran into you guys. What a surprise! Where are you headed?”

“Well,” started, looking over at Kelly, “we were thinking about hitting The Wall next. Want to join?”

I glance over at Ethan. I already knew he was in, being far more advanced than I was, but I wanted to be sure because we definitely needed a few more runs together.

“Let’s do it,” Ethan says with a confident and excited grin.

 

We load up on two chairs, since it is a three-seater lift – me with Ethan and Kevin and Kelly together. Kevin and Kelly are friends from the Bay Area – from my former life as a Business Analyst in Silicon Valley. They are an awesome couple, and amazing individuals. Probably the most frequent visitors to Kirkwood out of my Bay Area friends.

 

What proceeds is three runs challenging myself, getting safely, and semi-gracefully down first 100 meters of The Wall, and then shredding like a true expert the rest of the way, hooping and hollering with blissful energy, surrounded by good people, beautiful nature, and an athletic activity that I love.

 

Once onto Buckboard, the run that comes off of Chair 11 – The Reut, but also a perfect ending to a run down The Wall, I finally ran into my other friend, Amber. After all of that mental and physical challenge, I was ready for a break.