Sporting Life

A few friends and I spent last weekend at Lake Tahoe for our first snowboarding trip of the season. Unfortunately, we just missed the big storm that was expected last week, so the ski conditions were man-made and windy — so windy that we couldn’t even board on Sunday because Heavenly shut down the lifts just as we got there.

We were crushed. We made the walk of shame back to our hotel and were ready to settle for a day of watching football. But my buddy Kyle refused to spend his time in Tahoe sitting in a hotel room. After a little pep talk, he convinced us to re-don our snow gear and drive to Desolation Wilderness to do some hiking.

We parked next to the freeway overlooking Emerald Bay and started walking into the wilderness. The trail was difficult, alternating between snow-covered sheets of rock and iced-over granite steps. I didn’t have any boots, and my worn down sneakers were slick on the ice. Still, it felt great getting exercise outdoors, and the scenery was gorgeous.

Hikers passed us going the other way on the trail and I noticed one of them had a hockey stick. Just then I realized it was probably cold enough to freeze a lake. We passed another group of hikers with skates tied to their backpacks. Scenes from “Mystery Alaska” began playing in my mind. I imagined playing hockey until sunset in an arena made of mountains and forrest. I had never seen a frozen lake before. Suddenly the walk wasn’t so difficult. I needed to see this Sierra skating oasis before sunset.

Just over a mile into the mountains, we arrived at Eagle Lake. It didn’t look frozen at first, until I noticed the water wasn’t rippling in the strong wind. My friend Tom pointed to the other shore a few hundred yards in the distance where ice skaters were carving lines in the reflection of the mountains.

As I walked towards the shore, clips of Bear Grylls falling through the ice on “Man vs. Wild” replaced the “Mystery Alaska” montage playing in my mind. Kyle never hesitated and ran out onto the frozen surface. I followed, carefully following his path, but not stepping exactly where he stepped. We reached the middle of the lake where the ice was clearer, and I could see it was probably more than five inches deep, thick enough to support a horse. It was a rush. My friend Ariel joined us in the middle as Tom hesitantly tested the ice near the shore. I ran and slid and wished I would find an abandoned pair of ice skates in the snowbank, or at least a puck to play with. We settled for an empty beer bottle, which gained speed as it glided across the ice because of the wind.

Exploring that lake was better than any day we could of had on the slopes. I found an article from the New York Times online last night about the short lake skating season. After the storm this week, I’m sure Eagle Lake is covered with snow, but I’m going to try to get there next year, and bring skates next time.