Corduroy and Diminishing Returns

The reports are, predictably, accurate. A disheartening lack of the customary December accumulation. One observes a distinct paucity of white. The grooming crews, bless their dedication, are working miracles on a canvas of barely-there base, but even the most diligent efforts cannot conjure snow from thin air. I ascended the Sultan Express this morning, noting the faded yellow of the lift towers against a cerulean, yet strangely muted, sky. A scattering of individuals, mostly ill-equipped and displaying questionable technique, occupied Wide West. The texture of the groomed runs—particularly on the Carpenter lift line—approximates a freshly pressed linen suit, though one anticipates its rapid deterioration given the ambient temperature. The Silver Lake Express saw a regrettable number of sideways sliders. They are a blight. I observed minimal coverage on Empire, and the north-facing slopes, though retaining a semblance of dignity, are visibly wind-damaged. The data confirms the unfortunate reality: this is not a winter to encourage enthusiasm. It is a season for quiet contemplation and, frankly, lowered expectations. One seeks solace in the meticulous precision of the grooming and the faint hope of a meaningful snowfall. Avoid the masses. Begin your descent on Claimjumper, directly after the first hour, before it becomes utterly overrun.