The snow report and lift schedule is subject to change without notice, often due to weather conditions. Dial the Alpine Meadows snow phone for up-to-the-minute information at 530.581.8374.

Conditions
ALL SCHEDULED LIFTS ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE DUE TO WIND, WEATHER, POOR VISIBILITY AND SAFETY HOLDS. PLEASE CALL, 530.583.4232 OR THE SNOW PHONE, 530.581.8374 FOR UP-TO-DATE INFORMATION.

(ALL TERRAIN PARK FEATURES ARE BURIED. PLEASE BE PATIENT WILL OUR PARK STAFF)

The expanded mid-mountain park is open, come check it out. All park features are listed below.


Current Weather:Partly Cloudy
NOAA Weather Forecast For Greater Lake Tahoe
Base Snow Depth: 86" Summit Snow Depth: 170"
Base Temp: 16°F Summit Temp: 10°F
Base Wind: 25 MPH SW Summit Wind: 50+ MPH SW
24-hr Snow Total: 24.5 - 34" Storm Snow Total: 55 - 80"
Current Snow Conditions:Lots of powder, machine groomed, with fresh powder on top
Tip O' The Day:DEEP POWDER!
Park & Pipe Report:KANGAROO: 24' flat box 24' flat rail 40' flat-up-flat rail 24' down round rail 32' flat rail 20' jump 40' flat rail 20' & 40' dual step jump 20' & 50' dual step jump 24' flat down box 12' vert lift tube RED GREEN: 32' flat down rail 32' up flat down box 36' flat down box (3) 20' table jumps TIEGEL KIDS' PARK: 24' flat box 8' flat rail 16' flat rail (3) rollers

Lifts Notes
Summit Six Scheduled
Roundhouse Quad
Scott Triple Scheduled
Hot Wheels Triple
Kangaroo Double Scheduled
Meadow Double
Subway Double
Alpine Bowl Double
Sherwood Express Scheduled
Lakeview Triple Scheduled
Yellow Double
Sun Kid Surface Lift
Tiegal Poma
Lift status subject to change due to wind and weather. Scheduled lifts are updated daily at 6am. We recommend you call ahead.



This is killing me. The above is the snow report for Alpine Meadows. My brother Michael has been skiing this stuff for the past three days. Lucky dog! I may be headed up there tonight if the wifeage will give me the pass. Otherwise, I sit here trembling with the thought of deep untracked powder.

Johnny GoFast

So there you go. Pictures of the new room as to be yet revealed on a reality program to be aired in the future and viewed by people not named me. I can't tell you how happy I am that this whole process is behind me. Watching my wife play the part of the over exuberant, suburbia fashonista, me having to get excited about the non-exciting, having to have no less than 10 crew people in my house at all hours of the day filming and sounding and creating and whatknowselse. Goodbye and take your phony baloney hooey with you. The room came out all right and it's better than what we had by a long shot, but it's not subtle. I don't know much about France or the Country, but I'm fairly certain our bedroom does not capture the gist of the style. It looks like it might be French Country on steroids, which I guess given the times, goes well with reality television. Performance enhancing drugs aren't just for self important athletes anymore. Some day in the future, I'll notify all of my readers about the impending episode. HGTV will certainly see a bounce no doubt. Stay tuned. Enough about that.

It's been a while since I've reached into the mail bag and it's starting to bulge. Let's take a look:

I hear that your single speed is cracked. How did you notice? Wouldn't it follow that you actually would have to inspect your bike? Steve Griffiths Granite Bay California--and I'd just like to point out--Republican Hotbed


Thanks for writing in Griff. Truth be told, my little boy found the crack. He was washing my bike like a good little soldier and he said, "Daddy...I feel a bump here that is inconsistent with the texture on the rest of the bike. I inspected further and it would appear to be a flaw in the metal." "That's not metal son," I said. "That's titanium and it's the strongest material known to man. We put astronauts into space and New Mexico with that stuff. It's super strong and it won't break." "I think you're wrong. It's definitely cracked," he continued. Turns out he's right. The little Einstein. Picture of him nearby working on my bike.

Johnny-
What are your plans now that the single speed is broken. Will you have more room in the garage for say...old bedroom furniture, Christmas wrapping paper, an old baby changing table? Chieko Kaki...er...Cyndi Lauper Roanoake Virginia

Chieko..I mean Cyndi, thanks for your question. Oddly enough I thought this might be from my wife as her first name is Chieko but then I saw that you forgot what your first name is. Sometimes she writes in to my program as a form of communication. We've been married for over five years now (crushed the over/under for divorce by the way) and the signals we send each other sometimes barely get through if they get through at all. The other day she tried to get me to pick up some stuff the kids left about, but I feigned ignorance. I got the hint when the crayon box hit me upside the head. Anyway, getting back to your question, there is no room in the garage for any of my wife's crap. Cyndi, if I could offer you some advice ala Dr. Phil...the garage is the only room in the house that belongs to the man. You women have taken away everything else including the bathroom. Unless you want to suffocate him, let him have the garage. He'll be happier and you'll see a major improvement in his attitude. If you insist on off loading your stuff into his only room, he'll blow. Trust me, give him some rope.

Mr. GoFast-
I hear that your back is wrenched. Do you think it wise to race at Snelling tomorrow? Mr. GoFast's mother

Oh for crying out loud mom, I told you not to contact me here. None of the other people in blogland have their mothers looking over their shoulder. C'mon, I'm trying to fit in here. I'll call you when I get home. Geeezzz.

I have time for one more question.....

Dear Johnny-
Some of the guys on the team have been telling me that I need a nickname. What do you think? Pat McLaughlin Pegasaurus Teammate

Nicknames are tough. Obviously you can't name yourself otherwise we'd have a lot of people walking around with the moniker "The Pipe" or "10 inch" or some such juvenile non-sense. Griff has taken to calling you McQUADlin, which is pretty good given the size of your soon to be Cat 3 huge legs and sprinting prowess. Be patient and the name will come. My name was given to me by somebody (I think McEwen, but it could have been Petacchi or Boonen) because my first name is Johnny and I go fast. Something similar will happen for you. For now, go with Pat the Pegasaurus until something better comes along.


Anyway, thanks for being such a loyal audience everyone and I'll see you out there at Schnelling tomorrow.

Johnny GoFast

With the blueness fading, things are looking a little more upbeat. The wife owns most of the credit for talking me in off the ledge. She's pretty good, that one. She punched me right between the eyes the other evening when I came growling through the door. She pointed out that I am healthy, she is healthy, the kiddiewinks are healthy, I'm a good husband (I suspected this to be the case all along--but it's the first I've heard it articulated by someone other than me), a great father, and that we are in a good place. That in the grand scheme of things, what would I rather have? So the bike is not going well right now, this too shall pass and I'll be out there floundering at the front of the cat 4 peloton in no time. Just don't giggle at me this weekend when I'm flailing off the back at Snelling. I'm still not totally stable and I can't be held responsible if my bike accidentally rattles off your dome.

So yesterday I had a much better ride. About 20 minutes into the ride I started thinking about how this all started. We've all heard the story about my first ride with Griff and Oz at night with my garden gloves on, etc. I won't belabor the point. But it goes beyond that ride as it wasn't exactly the best initiation. I got to thinking about some of the early racing I did that really set the hook. My first race was a beginner affair up at Angwin as part of the now long since defunct Knobular series. I rode my Stumpjumper in that race. I wasn't doing too badly when I came down this hill on a single track. At the bottom there was a soft right hand turn with a gigantic rut. Using all of my advice stored away in my brain from the few rides I had done to that point I concentrated on not going in the rut. "Avoid the rut" rattled over and over and over in my head until I found my front wheel dug squarely in the thing and I cartwheeled off into the woods. As I was cartwheeling, I remember tumbling past a fellow competitor who was on the side of the trail fixing a flat. When I stopped, I collected myself, grabbed my bike and ran back out of the forest and back to the race course. I had to pass the rider and he asked, "do you do that often?" "Not too many times, no," I replied as I remounted and continued on. Later in that race I crashed again, this time double flatting and ending my day. I walked out tired, bruised, but determined to fare better in my next race. That would come at Squaw Valley the same year. I finished fifth in a wet and cold race. I only owned one pair of shorts and one jersey at the time. No full team kit complete with arm warmers, leg warmers, wind vests and jackets. No I was bare bones, no doubt. I stood shivering on the line when the Griffociraptor came walking up. He asked if I was ready and if there was anything I needed. I'd take your sweatshirt. He laughed nervously, but then looked into my eyes. He could see I was dead serious and he took it right off his back. For five or so minutes it was a great relief. Before they blew the whistle, I gave it back to him and raced in the cold wet weather in what I had. As I crested the first hill, a little boy commented to his mother as I passed that I must be freezing. I was. I finished fifth that day. My friend Oz told me that it was time to upgrade, and I did. I got hammered in the sport class for the better part of a year, but the next year I came back to win at both Angwin and Squaw Valley.

The success I have had here and there along the way certainly fuels the fire. It makes the training worth it. I've read books, listened to coaches, conspired with friends all in the search for something greater in myself. And that is good. But I think what really set the hook for me is doing the races with my friends. There are a couple of races that have long since faded into lore that I think set the foundation for my continuance in the sport. They are both mountain bike races, but they had more of a grass roots, down to earth feel. One was held in the late spring/early summer called Trees and Breeze. Held on the coast near Santa Cruz, it was a great course. I remember it being warm there and the course being hard but fair. There was some great single track, but plenty of places to pass. There was a pretty decent hill on the course, but it wasn't mind numbingly long. I also remember a log across the course toward the end of the lap. If you carried enough speed down the hill and were particularly adept at bunny hopping, you could clear the log without too much trouble. I always dismounted and ran the log however. This would get jeers from the crowd, but I wouldn't stack. You could always hear the crowd when someone either jumped the log (loud cheer), or someone failed in their attempt to jump the log (extremely loud uproar). After the race, there would be a big Mexican feed and we all would sit at these long tables and eat together. Music would be playing and everyone, and I mean everyone, would be smiling. The other race happened in the fall and it was more of a festival than anything. The Ring of Fire was held on some private property near Occidental. I remember going to the race with Brian Marcy and Louis Demers along with Griff and Oz and Oz's wife Colleen Wante. The course had some crazy sections in it but it was all fairly rideable. I remember coming to one section that was particularly hairy. There were a few spectators about and there was always a whiff of dope in the air. And there was always a band at the start/finish line that would play all sorts of different renditions of The Man's Ring of Fire. They started the race one year with a shotgun which frankly scared the shit out of me. You made your way up a long climb. The first year I remember having to walk some of it and Louis, coming up from behind and still riding yelled, "get out of the way you four by fours." New to racing, I assumed that's what you called someone pushing their bike. Now years later, I've never heard the term used again. The next year, braced for the shotgun blast at the start, they blew off a miniature canon which was louder than the gun the year before. Again not braced for such a thing, I almost went into apoplexy. After the race we'd all swim in a pond they had there and we'd drink beer. Again, to view the crowd, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone without a smile on their face.

Those races are long gone now and it's sad. Those races were like the first plunge of the needle for me. I still race and I guess I still look for those feelings I had initially. Napa Dirt comes close, but doesn't quite get there. The Skyline race in Napa is pretty good as well, but being older with my skill set faded somewhat, that course is a little past me now. Road racing is fun and I like the team aspect of things, but it's not the same. I enjoy the cyclocross racing for the vibe, but it's not the same as those initial years of racing on the mountain bike. Nothing will ever compare to Trees and Breeze and Ring of Fire. On my ride yesterday, I thought about those races a lot, and it brought a smile to my face. Hope you're attitude is everything you want it to be.

Johnny GoFast

Foul, foul mood today so beware. My training has been crap lately. My back, shoulder and neck are still hurting from my tumble that I took a few months ago and it's affected my training. I don't have the miles in my legs that I should at this point and my weight is a solid 10 pounds more than it should be. So today when I got on my bike for a ride at lunch, I was none to happy to find that the front derailleur would not shift into the big ring. I rode to the house and started to work on it in hopes that I could correct the situation quickly and be on my way. I'm a horrible wrench no doubt, so it came as no surprise that I could not improve the situation. Faced with the prospect of losing yet another day of training, I picked up the nearest thing (a bag full of ski stuff including boots) and chucked it. Directly through a glass window in my garage. Shattered glass everywhere. What a joy. If things don't improve soon, I may just go back to whatever it was I did before I became obsessed with this bike racing thing. I can't remember that far back, but I had to be happier with that/those hobbies than this one.

Johnny GrumpFest

Hey Check this out. This is my wife giving an interview yesterday. More content to follow.

Johnny GoFast

Hey Gang, lots to go over so lets get in our seats, open up our books and get started. Yesterday, we continued down the path of reality TV. Recall that I had an initial encounter with this sect about a month ago. Well yesterday was the big launch of our new bedroom. At 7:30 in the morning a whole lotta people started rolling up to begin production, construction and everything in between. The first person I met was a painter. I asked what color they were going to paint the room and she coughed up yellow. I asked about lights and furniture and some other things that I was curious about as I showed her to the room. You see, this whole thing is supposed to be a surprise this evening when they reveal to us what they've done. The producers and others are really trying to build us up for the big moment when they reveal the room, at which point, I think, I'm supposed to go into a mock cardiac arrest or something. So I've been screwing with them a little. I could care less what goes on the walls, but I wanted to see what I could fetch out of the little helper and without thinking, she spilled. One point Johnny. I also had a good time asking the camera and sound guys if they've ever worked on a porno. My wife hit me for that question. The answer is no, to those of you that are perverts. They admitted that they've never been asked that question. Another point for Johnny. The best moment came when the host, David, revealed to me that he was gay. My gaydar is pretty good, but this one was a layup. C'mon, a guy that is into interior design, I mean really into it. So he says, "well even though I'm gay, I don't go into real feminine design." To which I say, "you're gay?" He looked at me kind of startled and said, "yes." It was at this point that I said, "you mean flaming?" Big chuckles from David as he said, "only with my boyfriend." Big whack from the wife. Johnny scores another point. It actually has been an okay time and the sketches that David has come up with look all right. We will see tonight.


So I talked to the carpenter for a while, and he seemed pretty cool. We hit it off immediately because he and I both love Hooters. It's really all you need to know about a guy to know if he measures up isn't it? Anyway, I hope to have some video for you soon. Anyone who can offer help on the YouTube thing, let me know. Some of you may be scratching your head as I've managed to up load a video on a previous post. Apparently my hunt and peck method to technology only works once.

Johnny GoFast

Holy buckets, I'm getting sophisticated, I think. Anyway, back from Steamboat where the skiing was good. We hit town at the same time their winter carnival was going off. The above clip is of a competition they hold down main street. The kiddiewinks hook themselves to a horse and cowboy and rip down the street on either ski's or snowboard. Pretty wild(west) if you're asking me. On Sunday morning, the adults get a crack and I've heard tale that there is a jump these boys must navigate. The competition was thought up years ago as a way to bring the ranching community and the skiing community together. One of our guides from our skiing trip told a story to the humor and delight of all that were within earshot of the time he tried his best. The cowboy was named Lad Dickey and he was all cowboy. He held the skier in somewhat of a dim light being a recreationist and all. Well the skier showed up on the morn of the event to find his cowboy drunker than drunk. Lad assured his skier that he'd run and that he shouldn't worry. Their number was called, and at the sound of the gun, the cowboy who was supposed to run his horse straight down mainstreet, mistakenly rode his horse off the jump. To the delight of the crowd no doubt. Cowboy got throwd and the skier, being sober and all, avoided the horse and now floundering cowboy. The cowboy got off the ground as the skier came slowly sliding by. Dusting off himself with his Stetson the cowboy turned and looked at the skier and said, "how'd we do?" The skier, trying not to laugh said, "about as good as could be expected." Good ole country folk. Gotta love 'em.

Johnny GoFast

Went out to SF this weekend with the wife and kiddiewinks. Rode the cable cars up and down those San Francisco streets, toured some ships down at Fisherman's Wharf, visited the Aquarium and had lunch at Pier 39. I felt like I was a visitor from Iowa or something. The boy liked the ships and the girl liked the aquarium. I liked the cable car ride. Talked with the brakeman for a while who clearly loved his job. Stood on the back and told jokes to everyone and had his head on a swivel as we passed many a people. The wife liked the aquarium as well.

Got back out on the bike for the first time in about a week yesterday. Sat on the back of the team ride as I'm still a little bit under the weather. Was able to keep the heart rate down for the ride and it was good to be back out there with fellow Pegasaurus' many of them sporting the new kit. New this year is an orange splash that has many of the riders a bit in a twist. I like it if for no other reason than it looks like a half baked attempt to mimic the Sierra Nevada team uni. This will piss the Griffociraptor off which had me chuckling most of the ride.

Tomorrow I get on a plane to go do some skiing at Steamboat in Colorado. As far as mountain skiing goes, Steamboat kind of blows. If you hit it right and you've got the powder to ski, it could be pretty good. But most of the time, that mountain sits there like one big bunny slope. Why go then, you ask? Well click on www.steamboatpowdercats.com for the basic gist. I did this last year with my brothers and it kicked ass. Only my older brother can go this year and we're going to rip it up. We ski off of a powdercat in the back country. The runs aren't long but there is always plenty of powder and some of the runs are fairly challenging, either treed or cliffs to navigate and always plenty of powder. We're on the cat for three days with an option for a couple of days on the mountain. Hopefully the forecast will hold and it will snow all week. Either way, I'm going to be grinning from ear to ear. Life is good that's for sure. I'll be sure to think of you as I'm throwing myself down the mountain.

Johnny SkiFast

So there has been some chatter out there lately regarding laundry. My wife is a lot like you in that she hates the endlessness of the laundry. Can't blame her. My daughter often has multiple outfit changes during the day. And she prefers the frilly dress type outfit to the wash/wear/fold and stuff into the drawer type. Those dresses also need to be ironed and neatly hung on a hanger. The boy of course is a boy, so his stuff is a bit more rudimentary but it still needs to be washed, folded and stuffed. I don't add that much to the pile, but there is a minor contribution. To tell a family secret, I'll often wear my bike shorts more than once and a jersey never goes into the washer without being worn three or four times. (I'll pause as it dawns on you that the stinky guy in the peloton is me). That being said, there is a ton of laundry on a daily basis and my wife, given all the best intentions, cannot keep up. Not that I help out all that often. I've been trying to run a load for her when I can and I try to transfer a load from the washer to the drier when ever I pass through the laundry room. I've given up on folding though. Once, in an effort to help, I folded a whole load of dirty clothes and I mixed in dirty clothes with a clean batch. Though she often procrastinates at getting it done, she has an uncanny ability to know what's good, what's bad, and what's hopeless.

When I was younger and in my prime (aka single), I'd go to the laundromat every Tuesday night. Without fail. I'd bring some beer and a big wad of tobacco. I'd wash and dry and fold and hope that some hot Carmen Electra type would come through the door. The chore would take me a couple of hours max, and I'd be set for the week. I never once witnessed a hot chick in there. Really, hot chicks don't wash there stuff in a laundromat. They're smarter than us in that they know only creepy, tobacco chewing, beer guzzling single freaks hang out in laundromats. They ensure that there place includes a washer and drier or they have a boyfriend somewhere that has a washer and drier. Anyway, the point is that I had a routine. I suggested this to my wife one time. One time is all I suggest unless you like large lumps about your head on a regular basis.

So get to the point, you say? Alright. What would it be worth if I took over the job for a month or so? Is it worth even throwing out there or will I get clobbered with a, "you get nothing. You should do it out of the love of your heart." I mean really, somehow I haven't had to run point on this chore for the past five years or so. Would I score good guy points? If your domestic partner (I've been living in California way too long being all PC and shit) offered this up, what would you do? Just curious. Want to know what I might be able to get out of this thing.

Johnny GoFast