One of the nicer things I have is a huge backyard. My little wimpy cabin sits on the boundary for the National Forest, and Blackwood Ridge begins - quite literally - out my kitchen window.
My old house-mate and friend Greg just got home from Antarctica last week, and he called on Wednesday to ask if we'd mind a visit from him, his wife Amy, and their 11-month old son Max. Patsy and I had made plans to go ice climbing in Lee Vining - oh no!! A quick telephone conference with Patsy was all it took to change plans and agree that Max needed to be re-united with Uncle Chris and Aunt Patsy.
We met at Alpine Meadows on Saturday, and while Aunt Patsy helped watch the Maxster I took Greg and Amy out on laps of the mountain. No real hiking or sidecountry, just a chance for Greg and Amy to get their sea legs back under them. This is all relative - both of them quite cheerfully skied Palisades and Counter-weight. The 15+ inches we got on Friday were demolished by the Saturday crowd, a huge difference from the dump we had a week ago Wednesday.