Across the Sierra Nevada on Skis 



297 



of sight filled the Upper Truckee Valley with its thunder and its 

 echoes. A few rods to the left across the road was the scar of another 

 that had slid some days before. Evidently there were places where 

 the heavy snow cornice blown through the pass was getting unsteady, 

 and it seemed desirable to get by this first part of the descent as 

 rapidly as possible before any more of it broke away from its 

 moorings. 



The descent was not up to expectations. Instead of a thrilling 

 slide down the grade with moments of excitement in rounding the 

 hairpin turns, as I had pictured it, it was just plain hard work. As 

 a matter of fact I did not quite dare start straight down the scarp, 

 ignoring the road and dodging trees and buried boulders. Particu- 

 larly with the uncertain motions of the pack to disconcert every 

 quick attempt at balance, I did not care to hazard the descent that 

 way alone. It probably would not have worked had I tried it. The 

 heavy snow canceled completely the advantage of the downward 

 pitch, so that every step had to be made with effort. Slushy snow 

 continued to fall, making clothing soggy and the pack heavier. 



At Meyer's I found a room open, supplied with wood and a stove, 

 left in true hospitable mountain style for the wayfarer to use. While 

 tea was brewing and clothes drying I put a fresh coat of "dope" on 

 the skis. In wet snow the "dope" becomes worth its weight in almost 

 any commodity. 



During the noon rest the rain abated and the storm blew by. The 

 sun was shining fitfully as the start for the lake was made, and 

 in an hour or two the sky was clear except for the cloud-banners 

 streaming from the higher summits. The warmth of the sun, cheer- 

 ful as it was after the rain, made the going still heavier, and two 

 miles an hour was the best speed I could make, even along this level 

 eight-mile stretch. The Grove Hotel was reached late in the after- 

 noon, and Mrs. Copeland made the stay a very comfortable one, 

 with splendid food after the limited menu of the pack-sack. It was 

 Monday evening, and on the next day the steamer was expected to 

 make its circuit of the lake, stopping at Tallac. Under the condi- 

 tions, two days would be required to skirt the lake on skis along the 

 western shore to Tahoe City, and, as my time was limited, it was 

 decided to shorten this portion of the trip by taking the boat. 



Tuesday morning broke perfectly clear and cold enough to make 

 the snow better for skiing than on any of the preceding days. After 



