Seattlest Is the Type of Guy

Who says our lower back is killing us. We arose at 5:30 Friday morning and made the pilgrimage to Baker. All three of us in the car were a wreck, having experienced mutual cases of anticipatory insomnia fueled by talk the night before of a 100" base at Mt. Baker. The day can be summed up thusly: wow, and, ow.

Brutally out of shape, we took it fairly easy on our first day up. The snow conditions were impressive for late November--we didn't find the light, fluffy powder that the Baker web site was screaming about, but it was about as close as we get in this area, albeit a bit unpredictable terrain-wise. Lift lines were mercifully very short, and our thighs were pleading with us to stop by 1:30pm. We stuck it out until almost 2:30, skiing straight through lunch by eating leftover turkey sandwiches on the lift. Throw in a Snow Cap in the parking lot afterwards and we were in heaven, blissfully ignorant of the aching, creaky hunchback we would turn into overnight.