Mat and I went down to Bend with the mind to ski from Bachelor to South Sister and do some summitting. We were first thwarted by horrible breakfast at Burgerville, which were slightly redeemed by apple fritters from a quicki-mart. We skied all the way down to the Devil Lake trailhead with little fanfare. No fanfare really.
After eating some granola bars we tromped into the trees for the easy climb. A few postholes later we put the skis back on as the snow was super mush. Our lack of ski ability showed itself on the first uphill portion. We stood around debating the merits of continuing up or running back home. As there was steep snow to climb to even get to the plateau I tried walking on the snow again as we wouldn’t be able to ski the whole thing. I sunk to my waist within three feet.
A few minutes later we were back on the road eating granola bars and discussing the merits of stealing a snow mobile to go back up the hill. Pride won out and we slowly started skiing back to the car. My boots started to act up again, allowing us a few breaks so we could swear about cross country skiing. We determined the only acceptable ski trip is 2 miles (nothing further) if the destination is a yurt with a hot tub or whiskey.
Hours later we shuffled into the parking lot where the sky erupted with a brilliant sunset (announcing our arrival to the Swedish Bikini Ski Team.) A dude in the lot chatted our ears off about the merits of the various ski hills around the area. I think he couldn’t tell we had just sworn off skiing, cross country or otherwise. I ate a squished danish from my pack and judged him in silence.
Burgers and beer from the brewery in Bend assuaged our pain. Clear skies kept with us on the drive home, causing us to stop and stare at stars and mountains on one of the passes. Another pass yielded a large booty of lava rocks for an upcoming pig roast.