After climbing one particular waterfall, the entire forest suddenly transitioned to zombie cedars and the sunlight filtered through the toothpicks providing a magical light. Rafee and I agreed that it felt as if we’d just stumbled into Rivendell!
I started downhill toward the parking lot, ignoring a few groups of people gaping at my running down the hill. Unfortunately the trail dwindled and soon disappeared before I realized that they weren’t surprised by my running but by my running down a dead end!
I had second thoughts about deciding to bring my “fat, fun” skis rather than my narrower “mountaineering” skis for which I have ski crampons. With ski crampons, I would probably easily maintain my initial pace of 1,500 vertical feet per hour. Instead, it would take me two hours to climb the next 1,000 ft.
Now that we were out of the chute it was apparent that whatever few rocks we had hit on the exit were nothing compared to what was in store for us. We spent a few minutes picking our way through the rocky snowfield (or perhaps snowy rockfield?) and near the bottom I found room to link a few turns but was again punished by the rocks just before we made it to the clear.
To follow a long day of hiking with mediocre skiing, I wanted to give Zach a more standard Tahoe backcountry experience: good snow, challenging terrain, and exceptional views!
We summited unceremoniously and I regretted having told Zach that Freel had “the best view in Tahoe.” At the moment, we could hardly see a hundred feet.