Skiing at Old Faithful

The second day at Old Faithful started off great. Heidi and I met Zac, our snowcoach driver and I got to ride the last of the four snow vehicles that they use here in the park. The Bombadier. We traveled up to the Continental Divide Trail. The trail was about 2.8 miles round trip. The trees were beautifully snow-covered and about half-way up there was an absolutely gorgeous view of Shoshone Lake. Too bad the view from the top was cloud covered and hidden behind trees. The way back down... well, the way back down...
Let me start here, I'm not sure if I'm bad at downhill because I don't like it or if I don't like downhill because I'm bad at it, but either way, downhill skiing is my winter arch-nemesis. So the Continental Divide trail joins up with the 4.8 mile Spring Creek trail. It has some pretty steep downhill areas. And some surprisingly straight up hills. And the snow has not been great this year which meant that when I fell (which I did a LOT (for those who care, I did fill in my holes and ski back over the trail to help make sure that no one else would suffer)), it was sometimes on some hard snow. And, this is sad to admit, but I face planted more than once (and no, Kendra, I was not drunk). I'm not sure where my hands were, but they were not breaking my falls. Which is why, when Heidi stopped and turned around about halfway up the Spring Creek trail, she paused when she saw this...(actually, this is after I grabbed some snow and wiped off the blood that was down to my nose.)
In actuality, it is a tiny, tiny cut. It was just a head wound that bled a little freely. I did get some fun from it though... I kept telling people that Heidi had knifed me with her ski pole. Most people assumed that it had been an accident, but they all believed me. Hee hee hee.
We had several river crossings. Most of them down a short hill with a turn. The only thing worse than a down hill is a down hill with a turn. Blergh. It threatened several times, but I never actually fell in to the creek. The last crossing was the most beautiful, for many reasons, including the scenery. And the proximity to the Lone Star Trail.Heidi and I did make it up to Lone Star Geyser but didn't see it go off (it added an extra 1.6 miles to our trip, but what did we care? We had finally made it to a groomed trail).
We made it back to the Old Faithful area in time to meet up with Allie. The estimated time of Grand going off was 6:00. Allie had been there since about 4:20. We got there about 4:45 and the geyser went off (Yay!) at about 5:30. We were all so excited. Just see those smiling faces!
We struggled back to the Lodge and had some appetizers with drinkies. Eventually, we made it back to the apartment but it was incredibly painful. I don't know how Heidi managed to go out skiing the next day. I hurt just about everywhere.
So, the moral of the story is, if people tell you that Spring Creek is a beautiful trail that is a nice, moderate ski, they are lying. They are lying through their lying teeth. It is hell on earth. And I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Old Faithful in Winter

So, this past weekend I went down to Old Faithful (OF). Even though I'm technically not leaving the place I live, it still feels like a vacation. I get to head out from Gardiner which is surprisingly hard to do unless you go north to Bozeman. And let's face it, that's generally for reserved for gathering supplies, not gaining any pleasure.

Anyway, Allie, Heidi and I left on a crisp clear Sunday morning. The trip down was taken on a Prinoth (Pri-no) which was incredibly bumpy and left us all with minor whiplash. However (most importantly), it was free. It's about a 3 1/2 ride down to OF so I slept most of the way down.
We got to the OF Snow Lodge around 2:30 and immediately headed to the bar for a couple of drinks. We then wandered the geyser basin (Upper Geyser Basin for those who care) and waited for geysers to go off. This is surprisingly addictive. I figure it's some sort of psychology that has a person waiting, watching pools of water for around 2 hours and then getting excited because there is an eventual explosion of water. Seriously, does that sound like fun? I mean, people have been manufacturing fountains that do the same thing for years and nobody gets that excited.
While we were waiting for Grand, Heidi and Allie discovered the joy of "Zen Benching".

They also practiced their new-found religion while waiting for Riverside. The benches at Grand are apparently the more comfortable of the two. And even then, there are a particular two benches that you have to be on.
Anyway, we saw Riverside and OF go off and then decided to find our accommodations for the evening. Surprisingly difficult. None of us know that area particularly well so we wandered for quite awhile. On skis (which Allie hadn't been on for years). Carrying our packs. Which had two days of clothes. And sleeping bags. And food. For two days. And books (god help us, we're all bibliophiles). And bathing supplies. Let's just say we were incredibly lucky that we found someone who knew where we were supposed to be going. At least, we were lucky until we got there and found the door locked. Oof. Thank goodness Heidi knew one of the people in the building and he was able to track down a key.
I'll write more about our trip later. For now, I'll leave you with a preview.

Overheard at work (about coworkers)

There's always one in the bunch... it's better if they don't have guns.

Customers

Last night I was working the bar. A local came in and asked if the Community Center was meeting. I replied that I hadn't seen anyone and, after checking the calendar, that our back room was not reserved. "Well," she asked, "Aren't the meetings on the first Tuesday of every month?"

I couldn't speak for a full 2 seconds.

I know what's what

I was in the basement yesterday and one of the geology folks was explaining his current job description. "I'm prepping scientific samples for sophisticated petrologic work." Yeah, right. I know he's washing dirt.

On the subject of Excercise

As I was chugging up a hill today, it occurred to me that I'm not one of those people who skis for fun. Oh, I have fun whilst skiing, but it's not the primary reason I'm out there (and, let's face it, I'm the sort of person who could have fun at a root canal for some reason or another, well, not that root canals are as bad as they used to be. Can we really still compare horribly painful things to root canals? At least you get good drugs.) It's 'cause I need to get off my butt and do something and this seems as good an idea as any. So why do I ski? I'm not sure. But I'm losing weight and enjoying the winter sun. Does life get better?

Wednesday Night

What would you do for a Klondike bar?

Well, I'd probably trade it for a Wednesday night in Gardiner. So far, it's consisted of a run to the grocery and post office, yoga and cleaning the house. I think... no, I know that I'd probably not enjoy the Klondike bar as much, but it sure would be tasty while it lasted.