Legs still screaming from the 9-hour odyssey on Saturday, MLK day was spent up on the snow once again, this time with Ethel and Appendix Joe.
We cruised up to Mt. Rose summit late in the morning and snowshoed around aimlessly until we found a cool spot to kick it along the ridgeline to the west. Our final resting spot was just above a cliff that Kyle and I have sessioned a few times over the years, but there were no snowriding implements with which to explore that familiar airspace today.
This'll do for awhile...
...as will this
On the hike Saturday, I was thinking to myself about how intricate the winter landscapes can be with such a simple palette of white, blue, and green. On Monday, that palette diversified nicely with the complement of some more classic Nevada shades of brown and yellow in the groundcover (we were hanging out near the edge of a big melted patch, courtesy of the persistent high pressure system we've got).
We found some warm rocks to recline on and against in classic reptilian form. The cold mountain air was offset just enough by the few rays of sunlight that had made the low-angle journey through our atmosphere.
Happy and warm
Front row seats
We snacked, chatted, and watched the clouds stretch, shrink, swirl, thicken, and thin. The light breeze kept the groundcover shaking briskly, but Tahoe stayed nearly perfectly glassly throughout the entire afternoon. The barely-diffused reflections of the mountains along the west shore of the lake were only further disturbed by faint wakes from the occasional boat; this is a pretty quiet time of the year out on the lake.
Tallac and Pyramid across the lake
As the clouds thickened more, obscuring the bleak warmth from the winter sun, we became restless in spite of our skyscape and packed up for the short hike back to the car. We couldn't abandon our post, however, without gleefully jumping off some of the rocks on the cliff side of the ridge and digging ourselves out of the mildy soft snow that had been protected from that same low winter sun.
The day wears on
Last look at the lake
Finally on our way out, we ran downhill like little kids, stumbling awkwardly as our snowshoes got caught up in drifts here and there.
For a meager exertion of about a half hour hike each way, we were transported to another world, without an agenda, just ready to soak in a warm afternoon above 9000' in the Sierras.
note: these pictures are split between Ethel, Joe, and me. I did all the cleanup work on them though ;)
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