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| Tahoe Skiing | ||
| When it comes to a skier’s jackpot, Tahoe holds the winning hand. | ||
| BY HILARY NANGLE & PEGGY SHINN | ||
If skiing were religion —and many argue that it is—then Lake Tahoe would be the awe-inspiring cathedral where true believers worship. The soaring peaks of the Sierra Nevada, sheathed in white and glistening under golden California sun, surround the 22-mile-long, sapphire blue lake, like supplicants around a baptismal font. Sprinkled among the peaks surrounding the lake is the greatest variety of ski terrain—and the most stunning views—in North America. Eight major resorts, each with its own history and flavor, three smaller ones, and North America’s largest cross-country area are divided between the lake’s north and south shores, which border both Nevada and California. This we discovered last winter on a one-week ski binge: two women, seven resorts, one SUV, five hotels, four tired legs. And we didn’t even hit it all.
North Lake Tahoe With historic mining towns and turn-of-the-20th-century vacation cabins tucked in the pines, North Lake Tahoe has soul. Unlike Reno, the area’s immense mountains and expansive wilderness—where the infamous Donner Party met its demise—have yet to be dwarfed by neon and glitz. Here, the skiing is about the experience, not the nightlife. By the time we pull into Alpine Meadows, 45 minutes later, rain has turned to snow and six inches carpet the parking lot. Powdah day! And authentically retro Alpine is the place to be. Sheltered from prevailing winds, its lifts run during most storms, and lower-mountain trees provide visual anchoring in a white maelstrom. Alpine’s nod to the 21st century is a six-pack express chairlift. Otherwise, it does rustic proud. No soaring glass, stone, and timber architecture; think boxy base lodge and cozy on-mountain cabin (perhaps too cozy on a stormy day), where locals grab breakfast burritos after fresh tracks. When the sun shines—on average, 300 days annually—Alpine reputedly has one of the best views of the lake from the upper bowls. We can’t confirm that—we spend our day yo-yoing different lines through the trees and playing map games (“Where do you think we are?” “Uh, maybe here, or here, or uh, I dunno, here?”) at the storm-shrouded area (resort is too high-falutin’ a word for this place) until the lifts close.
It’s close to 10 a.m. before we board Big Springs Gondola and head toward the forested slopes. After warming up on meticulously groomed, wide-body cruisers, we revel on the deservedly black-diamond steeps and glades etching Backside and Lookout. Friends, stuck in the traffic jam, arrive in time for lunch at Schaffer’s Camp, an elegant private club that officially opens to the public this season. We display casino-worthy poker faces when quizzed about the skiing both here and at Alpine. “Yeah, we’ve had a few nice runs,” we nod, and quickly change the subject. At day’s end, everyone—and we do mean everyone—converges on Big Springs, the trail back to the village. In hindsight, we should have downloaded on the gondola. An even worse traffic mess at the base antes up our crankiness. It’s a short trip from heaven to hell. Day Three finds us back in heaven at huge, immense, humongous Squaw, although adjectives don’t it justice. In true California style, it sprawls. We could spend an entire week here—maybe even a full season—and not see, or ski, everything. Should we start with the cable car to High Camp, then perhaps on to the bouldered chutes of Granite Chief? The funitel to the exotically named Gold Coast, anchoring gently-pitched, wide-open pistes? Or the KT22 Express to test our legs—and guts—on the extreme steeps of KT22, a peak with so many lines some locals ski here exclusively all season? We choose the funitel to wake up on less intimidating terrain. And there’s plenty of it, served by lifts color-coded green or blue to denote beginner or intermediate terrain. In theory. We venture off-piste from a blue lift and whoops!, what’s a cliff doing here? Squaw hosted the 1960 Winter Olympics, so there’s plenty here besides skiing, and much of it is based at appropriately named High Camp. If we had a mind to, we could swim, skate, tube, even browse the Olympic museum. Instead we keep turning the boards, sampling a run from almost every lift, even KT22—just to say we skied it. The next day, we gamble on Homewood, the area most people skip. Driving by, it looks like a one-slope marvel. Reality: it’s the jackpot. Almost as large as Alpine Meadows, it boasts unsur-passed views of Lake Tahoe and feels like our own private resort. Yes, Homewood’s a throwback. Yes, it’s rough-around-more-than-the-edges rustic. But we park mere steps from the lodge and lifts—a real plus for parents toting kids and their gear. We boot up at the car, then board the putzy triple chairlift. As we ascend, Homewood expands. Enticing intermediate and expert trails drop through the trees off the ridgelines. Far to our left, short-but-steep Quail Face promises palm-sweating lines in an open bowl. Behind us, Lake Tahoe laps at the resort’s base. There’s a real sense that if we get air off a lip, we’ll be waterskiing. A few other skiers and snowboarders share the trails, but mostly, they’re ours. For lunch, we savor plates of barbecued chicken, tender and slightly spicy, cooked outdoors at the South Lodge, as if the chef had prepared it just for us. Did we mention: it’s Sunday?
We escape to Kirkwood, an oasis in a remote section of the Sierra Nevada, and are rewarded for making the 45-minute drive. Here, snow is measured in feet, not inches. Still a work in progress, Kirkwood has plentiful condominiums, but little else. Like Alpine Meadows, people come here for sport; slumber and sustenance are afterthoughts. As we pull into the resort village, the gleaming white ridge that comprises Kirkwood rises above us like the open lid of a tanning bed. A local suggests following the sun, and we do, starting with the Sunrise chair on the backside, then working our way down Thunder Saddle to the bowls and chutes on the ridge’s frontside. We swagger through bowls, snake between trees, and ricochet the bumps. By lunchtime, we’re baked. Sitting on the deck of Off the Wall Bar & Grill, we have our backs to the sun, an uncharacteristic position for solar-deprived New Englanders in January. We’re not only baked, we’re fried. Our legs ache—not something we care to admit to each other or anyone else—and the high altitude has taken its toll. We take a few après-lunch turns on Kirkwood’s groomers, then tuck tails between our legs and depart. Sacrilege to leave behind sun and snow, but we have two more days in our quest, two more resorts at which to genuflect at the altar of our favorite sport, and tickets for a show that night. “We can do it,” we assure each other on Day Six as we clomp two blocks in ski boots from the casino to Heavenly’s gondola, one of many access points to the resort’s mind-boggling 4,800 acres. Heavenly straddles two states, stretching from the lake’s California shores to Nevada’s desert sands. Unlike just-as-gigantic Squaw, Heavenly’s terrain is mostly below treeline. We waltz down groomed boulevards rolling down the mountains’ many shoulders, boogie through bumps, and sashay through glades, but thin cover makes us skip wet-your-pants-steep Mott and Killibrew Canyons. Frankly, Heavenly isn’t so heavenly for those seeking wide-open bowls and never-ending runs. It requires a lot of horizontal moves to get good vert. But who cares? Nearly every trail rewards us with a stunning view of deep blue Lake Tahoe. When a mountain ambassador points east to the drab brown of Nevada’s Carson Valley, and says, “The lake’s bottom is the same depth as the valley floor,” we simultaneously expel, “Whoa.” And on the seventh day, storm clouds begin to gather. We depart South Lake Tahoe around 8 a.m., stop for grub and gossip at the Downtown Café en route, and still manage to arrive at Sierra-at-Tahoe by 9ish. In this weather, Sierra is a plum choice. Majestic old-growth fir trees add much-needed definition and depth under gray skies. Given the lack of recent snowfall, we skip impressive Castle Creek and North Bowl glades—home to chutes, cliffs, bowls, and other Warren Miller-esque terrain—and ignore the inviting glade locals dubbed the “Golf Course” for its lower and upper nines. Instead, we savor Grandview’s comfort-zone slopes, before plunging down the sinewy, bump-choked expert runs snaking along the resort’s perimeter until our legs scream “Enough!” Unwilling to quit just yet, we swoop down West Bowl’s cruisers until it’s time to head back to Reno. Sierra’s pizza van miraculously arrives as we’re loading the car, and we order a few slices of heaven for the drive to the land of original sin. En route, we review our catechism. On our seven-day quest, we didn’t find the One True Way, but we did find heaven. Or a close facsimile. It’s a white, blue, and sunny place, offering anything we could ask for. Except stronger legs.
Details
Heavenly Mountain Resort Homewood Mountain Resort Kirkwood Northstar at Tahoe Sierra-at-Tahoe Squaw Valley USA North Lake Tahoe Where to Stay Hyatt Regency Lake Tahoe, Incline Valley, Nevada, www.laketahoehyatt.com, 800-554-3288. A 422-unit resort hotel, plus 24 lakefront cottages. Facilities include eight dining options, full-service spa, outdoor pools, fitness room, business center, concierge services, onsite sport shop with ski rentals, supervised children’s programs, and meeting facilities for up to 900. Ask about Cory Carlson’s exclusive, all-inclusive Technique Weeks. Cedar House Sport Hotel, Truckee, California, www.cedarhousesporthotel.com, 530-582-5655. A 42-room, eco-friendly boutique bed-and-breakfast, with a hip, minimalistic Euro flair. Facilities include lounge, hot tub, small-group meeting facilities; continental breakfast buffet is included. Lake Tahoe Luxury Rentals, www.laketahoeluxuryrentals.com, 530-581-0522 or 800-581-0522. A division of Chase International providing luxury home rentals throughout the Lake Tahoe region. Some properties are conducive to small-group meetings. Concierge services available. Call Nancy Borino, luxury rental director. Where to Eat South Lake Tahoe Where to Stay Marriott’s Timber Lodge, www.vacationclub.com, 530-542-6600 or 800-845-5279. One- and two-bedroom accommodations steps from Heavenly’s gondola. Facilities include two dining options, two pools, fitness center, and Kids Club. Black Bear Inn B&B, South Lake Tahoe, California, www.tahoeblackbear.com, 530-544-4451. A romantic five-room inn, with three well-appointed cabins, on Ski Run Boulevard. A delightful alternative to the brash casinos. Where to Eat Photograph #2 courtesy of Cedar House Sport Hotel |
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Day Two dawns blue. Combine sunshine, fresh snow, and high winds from the east, and everyone heads to below-timberline Northstar. Which is why we find ourselves in bumper-to-bumper traffic at 9 a.m. inching up the access road. A 10-minute drive becomes 45 minutes. As we grumble along riding the brakes, the lucky people who stayed in Northstar’s base village, with purpose-built multi-story lodges housing restaurants and shops, are walking to the gondola. And that’s the allure, particularly for families.
South Lake Tahoe
Ski Resorts
