Photo: Hadi Yazdi Aznaveh // Unsplash
The Subaru had fresh new snow tires and a new roof rack to match. The minimum wage bussing job he’d held for five seasons running was now on cruise control. He’d even laid out by the pool all summer wearing Pit Vipers just to ensure winter 2022 would start with a solid goggle tan running across the front of his face.
Little did Gerry Sandoval know that as epic as the winter was meant to be, the Subey would be buried under mountains of snow most mornings and stay in its parking space for days at a time. And that bussing job? Well, the paychecks would be small and rent checks would bounce — a byproduct of calling in sick with each promise of a new powder day. He also didn’t know he could ever be so ready to ride groomers again.
“I just got the feeling back in my face last week,” he tells me. “Face shots and ripping turns through chest-deep powder sounds really great until California gets like thirty consecutive storms and your cheeks are numb for an entire month.”
My first question is obvious: “You couldn’t just wear a balaclava?”
Gerry explains Bay Area and SoCal weekend warriors wiped out every balaclava in the Sierras. And it’s just one of the reasons he says he’d welcome at least one run right now without rooster tails, one respite from the nonstop powder days so he could return to work and stop calling in sick.
And according to a new survey conducted throughout the region, an overwhelming majority of ski town locals are anxious for the same thing. They all just want some ho-hum cruising down the village groomer. No tree lines. No waking up before dawn for first tracks. No digging out the car. No more alerts of lifts being closed because they’re buried in snow.
“Not even a side hit unless it’s icy,” he says. “Now that it’s officially spring, I’m hopeful the end is in sight. I never thought I’d be so tired of powder days.”
Editor’s Note: Johnny Utah is an “Eff-Bee-Eye” agent and an expert in satire. More of his investigative work can be found here.
