Hello and welcome to An Altitude Problem, where the snow is all but gone, and I may be the last person in the county still trying to use it, and hating to see it go just a little bit. I have had the best of both worlds lately, sixty and seventy degree weather, shirtsleeves and deserted mountain, skis that take me up, then back down sloped usually crowded, and I get to take Andy, never a option when the slopes are open. In the last week, I have climbed A-basin twice, trudging uphill for a mile or two, depending on how high I go, then turning around and carving my way back down. It has been fabulous.

I went for a bike ride the other morning, and discovered that all of my favorite trails are bone-dry and rideable, but the trails connecting them are still boggy. I ended up a bit muddy after my 12 mile ride, mostly because of a massive endo in a soupy mud puddle. I did not realize how deep it was, so i hit it going at a good clip, and stopped dead, my front wheel disappearing up to the disc brakes and flipping me and the bike over it.

So, instead of biking, I have been skiing lately. The Basin still has snow on the runs, albeit extremely slushy snow, strips lying in the middle of dry ground and running water. I climb up, with Andy rolling in the snow, kicking it up, glissading down on his butt, on his sides, on his back, all flailing limbs and big grin. He absolutely loves the snow.

Today, i started about 2:30, a bad move if I wanted to avoid the inevitable afternoon rain, but still climbed up to the mid mountain lodge, then waited under the eaves as yet another thunderstorm moved through, slinging rain, then sleet at me. Our mountain weather does not lend itself well to solid wardrobe decisions. I started out with shorts and a bikini top (not another soul around, so swimwear and shockingly white skin is an option), then added a shirt, a windbreaker, and sweatpants, and a parka attached to my backpack. After climbing about 300 vertical feet, the rain that had been falling when I started left just as suddenly, and the sun came out, and i began to bake. I stopped and stashed the windbreaker and sweatpants under a tree, then after another quarter mile, peeled out of the shirt. Climbed about 400 vertical feet more and suddenly the sun left, thunder rumbled, and the rain started. I finished the climb to the lodge, took off my backpack, replaced the shirt and added the parka. Waited for it to pass, and as soon as it thinned, high-tailed it off the mountain as fast as the slushy snow would let me. It began to rain in earnest, slashing across my face and bare legs, until I got back to where I had left my sweats and jacket, then returned to a light drizzle. And no sooner did I slide to a stop at the bottom, but the sun came out, and the clouds parted, and I found myself under a clear blue sky. Mountain weather.

Bobby has been gone most of this week, down in Buffalo, Oklahoma, cutting wheat with his brother. I have had the house to myself, well, myself and Andy, who, until four days ago, was experiencing projectile diarrhea, giardia compliments (we think) of all the beaver pond water he helps himself to when we are hiking. He actually managed to not make a mess in the house, but it was only because I watched him like a hawk. He had to go out every two hours during the night, so I had to become a very light sleeper, so I could be sure to wake up when he became restless and needed to go out.

And now, Bobby has fish filets thawing, and since he stopped by my parents on his way home from Oklahoma, I have fresh lettuce and spinache from my mom's garden. I need to go make something simple and healthy (his request after nothing but pizza the last several days).