April 15, 2004, Summit West

Like a rat fleeing a sinking ship, I am driven higher by the onrushing seasonal change from winter to spring.  <br><br>I had been thinking of a "last run of the season" at Hyak and had thrown the board in the truck for an after work romp.  Passing at 75 mph - I could see that the bottom of Hyak had melted out too far, requiring a short stroll to consistent snow.  Bummer.  An alternate plan was in order.  I had skied Alpental Wednesday (with PLENTY of snow) so I knew anything above 3,000' would be decent - how about Summit West?  Never climbed it, maybe "the beach" was in order.<br><br>I pull off the road into the parking lot and there is not a car in it.  Corn snow, a couple of feet of it, ends at the bumper of my truck.  The April sun is out, the white mark of the new snow found at elevation highlights the mountains around me (this is encouraging for touring I note) and sprinkles dot the sky to add character to the afternoon.  And the place was all mine.  <br><br>I think to myself, there are starving children back east who would kill for another serving of corn, and all this sweetness was laying here wasting away in the sun.  The last throws of dieing Old Man winter going unnoticed by the oblivious drivers racing by on the highway.  New Englanders would be fueling up their cars for the weekend drive to the parking lot of Summit West if it were under 8 hours away this time of year.  And it would be the biggest party this side of Tuckerman's Ravine. But abundance breeds complacency, I guess, or maybe the vast expanse of available snow swallows all pleasure seekers and they go unnoticed in the PNW.  Whichever - all this whiteness was mine for a time.  <br><br>I throw on my ski pants and grab my board.  I don't even bother with changing further, just stroll up the hill, T-shirt flapping proudly, sunglasses on, looking at the mountain scenery change as I climb the 900 scant vertical feet to the summit of West.  The views were quite grand of the backside of Alpental and I spy a dozen lines of interest so the stroll is short.<br><br>At the top, I marvel at the snow still available and plot my next diversion.<br><br>Then I ski away, top to bottom in one pleasurable run, carving smooth turns on the giant Slurpee back to my ride. <br>