Checking in here from Telluride, Colorado. This was totally a last-minute trip, but opportunity came knocking, so I thought I'd shirk my Sierra responsibilities and head east to the Rockies. Funny thing: it just never crossed my mind that I'd see anything other than spring skiing over here. Because I was flying, I stripped out all my winter gear to get down to one bag. Ha Ha says Old Man Winter.
This morning I was riding up the Village Express in little more than a sweatshirt and a windbreaker with the weather doing a very respectable impersonation of January: temps in the single digits, winds and blowing snow—your basic blizzard scenario. I didn't even get one run in before I realized I was ridiculously underdressed. Headed straight for the nearest ski shop and no doubt did some good work for the local economy by going on a clothes-buying frenzy.
Cold! Forecast looks like snow all week. I suppose there's some sort of be-prepared lesson here for mountain travelers, but come on! It's April! Where's my slush and sunshine? :)
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