Taos Ski Valley, NM, is like the poster child for global warming this season. Poor guys. I’ve been hanging at the Austig House motel/hotel for the past three nights, cruising the mile and a half up to the base of the resort to watch the diehards eek out whatever turns they can make on 30 inches of manmade snow that will now soon melt away. Snowmaking ended recently because the their forest service says so.
Al’s Run looked like vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce all over it- the sauce being dirt. The ski school, fortunately, has chugged right along as many beginners and intermediates continued to show up for those infamous ski weeks and toasts at the martini tree. I was actually surprised at how much of the mountain was open given their snowfall this year. Crews have worked diligently to spread that manmade around and make it stick. ooh boy, were the runs firm- even in 60 degree weather. Easterners, though, probably were psyched. But, truthfully, one day on the hill was enough for me. Without sharp edges, you’re hanging on for life with every muscle gripped in tension. I can wait. I know that back home there will be plenty of freshies from the incoming storm headed our way. Instead, I’ve eaten myself into a coma this weekend. New Mexican cuisine is yummy. Lots of spices, kick, mixed flavors; tonight, for example we ate the Apple Tree in downtown Taos and I had chicken enchiladas in a blue corn tortilla with mango/green chili salsa. Our waiter served everything with a smile as we sat among local art for sale on the walls and the hum of diners from around each corner of the restaurant’s mazelike seating arrangement. I highly recommend the place.
I fly home tomorrow. Maybe I’ll finally be able to kick this cold and nausea doing a number in my tummy ever since I got back from Brazil last week. Ryan’s buddy Chad got married in Campos de Jordao and two days later in Ubatuba he was flattened by the flu. As luck would have it, Ryan and I were the ones sharing the tiny car with him as we drove four hours to Rio for my flight to Utah. I swear I’m like a virus magnet. So long as I’m around healthy people, no worries. One person with a nasty case of something and I’m its next victim.
Speaking of Ryan… we are still going strong!! I bet that freaks him out to consider but at the same time we both agree that it’s just “easy.” Of everyone I’ve ever dated, this one is the healthiest, most normal and least high maintenance. Sure, I worry that one day he’ll simply pack up and move home to Massachusetts without even saying goodbye (thanks, Greg, for giving me that issue) but what can you do? If it happens, I survive and move on like I did before. Each dude has been better than the last. Let this be a lesson to you, Girls. Never think that you’ll never meet anyone better than your last guy. YOU ALWAYS DO.

Maybe it’s me, but I’ll be damned if Utah isn’t more crowded than ever. Lines everywhere! Even at Deer Valley. Of course, I still know my way around them (except last Tuesday at Snowbird when we made two runs in three hours!) but still. It’s nuts. We hit PCMR today and thank god for the fast pass access. I didn’t have to wait in line with my special dealio and even got 10% off of lunch at the Summit House. For anyone wondering about the conditions, despite a couple of very warm days, the snow is soft and plentiful and the weather report calls for 5-10 inches by tomorrow evening. PCMR is grooming enough of their mountain now to give DV a run for their money but since the trails are longer and wider you don’t get buzzed as often by over-zealous intermediates screaming down the hill thinking they’re rockstars on rentals. But if you don’t have that fast pass and you hate standing in line, you’re better off at DV. PayDay and Bonanza were pretty thick. I never made it Jupiter because my friend Carol would have hated me and never skied with me again. We stuck to those buffed groomers off King Con and Silverlode. I’m digging the food these days at the Summit House- best on-mountain pizza and chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had. The food’s always great at DV but I’m angry they raised the price of their turkey chili. A bowl is now about the same price as a burger (no fries)! arrrgggghhh. Tomorrow we’re doing either the Bird or Alta. I’m calling ahead to see what chairs/runs are open before the final decision. I don’t want to get skunked again by liftlines. BTW< if you're at all concerned with crowds, check out Snowbasin. They're even running a January two-for-one special. Solitude is another good bet. The b-friend bought a dual Alta/Bird pass so we're committed to Little Cottonwood whenever we ski together.

I’ve finally returned. Writing in a blog is like writing in a journal. Once you skip a few days, the thought of catching up becomes daunting- so much to tell and so little energy. But then you wait a whole long-ass time and all of sudden you can encapsulate and it’s not so bad anymore. I’m currently waiting for it to snow in Utah while sharing Thanksgiving dinner with the folks in Carlsbad, Calif. It was gloriously sunny and warm today – both in Park City and San Diego- unfortunately. This is one of the driest holidays I’ve seen in a decade.

Weatherbug forecasts snow starting Saturday and it’s about time. Other than bumming out about skiing a foot of manmade snow on one run at the handful of open ski resorts, life is good. Ryan will move out of my place and down to Salt Lake next week to take a job with Fidelity. Since he can’t drive, he needs to be close to TRAX. I’ll miss the boy but because he took the nightshift, I now have a regular Snowbird ski buddy this winter (as opposed to last, when he worked at Wells Fargo all day). I am in the process of finishing my kitchen remodel and looking for people to rent my spare room so I can start paying off the tab on that one. Oh, and I spent last week in the Dominican Republic. What a cool place to sit out the pre-season ski blues- we surfed, kiteboarded, road horses and did this hairy, challenging sport they call cascading- kind of like canyoneering but not- we actually hike UP waterfalls in helmets and life jackets then ride down them or cliff jump into the deep pools below. We did 12 waterfalls and the average leap was 20 feet. Wahoo!

Well, I’ll be home Saturday and can update you on the storms and whether it’s worth booking a trip out to Utah. You can also tune in to www.onthesnow.com and look at my Destination Resorts reports. BTW, if you hear of anyone looking for a ski instructor, have them contact me! My Christmas schedule is filling up fast but we can work something out.

I found an understanding friend. Thank you, Paul, for opening your just-sold home to us even though you are shuffling crazily to move and find a new home for yourself. It’s refreshing to find others willing to take a chance even if they are a grown-up. Yeah! L.A. here we come.

Why is that as we get older we lose our sense of hospitality? When we were in college, we crashed on floors with our sleeping bags and shared beds with platonic friends. This happened all the time, everywhere. We repaid the favor by filling the fridge and offering our homes in return. And friends took us up on that offer. We preferred the familiar to a hotel bill. We saw this as an opportunity to bond not as a chance to freeload. Well, ok, it’s also to save money. I am coming to Los Angeles July 22-25 for a class that cost me $225, a plane ticket that was $182 and a rental car that was $120. I also have to fly to Idaho and Atlanta in August, Massachusetts and Virginia in September. So, yes, if I don’t have to pay for a hotel, all the better. But to me, I would rather have friends stay with me than at a hotel anyway. It’s rude. (I had one ex-boyfriend, however, that chose the hotel because my house isn’t clean enough for him. Well, that I understand. I don’t organize my soup cans and color code my towels.)

But now, those offers to “come visit me” have dried up. Friends are married, have kids, want a quiet place to retreat after a full day at their “grown-up” jobs. Their once anxious calls to visit are replaced with “there’s no room,” “my place is too small,” “we are in the middle of moving,” or my favorite, “Now’s not a good time.” Guests get in the way.

Because I’m single and freelance, I have a difficult time understanding this mentality. Even when I rent out my spare room, I’ve got a couch and living room if friends need a place to sleep. I may be busy and never see them but at least they won’t have to shell out $100/nt someplace or crash in their car. My family is even worse. My sister, the (anti)Buddhist, said I could use her tiny Silverlake apartment while she was in India. One week from the visit, she sends me an email with a bunch of excuses that basically said, “I’ve changed my mind. Find someplace else.” This, after everything I’ve done to help her, from giving her pet advice, to asking my friends and contacts to help her with the weird music she creates, to trying to patch things up between her and our dad (who cut her off years ago). She wouldn’t even be there to feel my presence yet it wasn’t an option on second thought.

Makes a person feel bad about themselves. Was I a lousy houseguest at some point? Did word get around so that people I’ve never stayed with won’t open their homes? How come no one ever said anything to me about it? I know that I shouldn’t take this personally but out of 10 calls to find housing for this coming weekend in L.A. only one kind soul said, “If you can’t find anything else, then I suppose….”

I really want to know. Why, when we get older, do you not have room for an out-of-town guest for three nights? If you do and would love a place to stay in Park City come winter, send me a note. I’m happy to return a favor.