oopsie daisy

My Thoughts on the Alpine Meadows/Squaw Valley "Merger"

If you follow me on Twitter, you’re probably well aware of how much I love Alpine Meadows and how often I snowboard there. I grew up in San Francisco, so I’ve had a chance to ski and ride almost every resort in Lake Tahoe, but even as a kid, Alpine Meadows was one of my favorites. I loved the trees, loved the friendly staff (this matters when you’re stuck in ski school all day), loved the terrain, and loved that so many of my friends went there.

I’ll never forget Ski Week in 7th grade. My friend Marcella and I were very into skiing. But we were also VERY into finding cute boys. It was one of those magically warm Tahoe weeks and we skied without gloves or hats, our hair flying in the wind as we flew down the mountain. I even somehow convinced my mom to let me ski in jeans on the very last day. You have NO idea how cool I thought I was as I bombed through Hot Wheels Gully, showing off for whomever might be paying attention. (No one, but I was twelve, so I just assumed everyone.)

Fast forward to five years ago and my return to SF after fifteen years on the east coast. I was now a (brand new) snowboarder and free to ride wherever I want since my mother no longer paid for my lift tickets.  There was never a question in my mind where that would be and as soon as I joined my first ski house in 2007, I got an unfiltered (read: no black out days) pass for Alpine Meadows/Homewood. Obvi.

I was a pretty new snowboarder when I moved back to California and Alpine was the perfect place to learn. The fact that there are trees between most of the runs made me feel safe and very aware of my surrounding, which is key when you’re just starting to turn. The runs were groomed impeccably and my instructors were super friendly and great teachers. (Also: hot.)

Last year, when I launched a jump and crashed really badly, Alpine Meadows’ ski patrol and nurses took incredible care of me. Within seconds of falling, a staff member was on his radio and it less than three minutes before I was surrounded by people who were there to make sure I was safe and healthy. Later that night, Alpine employees tweeted and Facebook messaged me to check in and see how I was doing. My spine was fractured, but I didn’t know that yet. I was back out on the mountain the next day.

The injury was brutal, yes, but the snow last year was too good to let it stop me. I snowboarded at Alpine almost every weekend, including Easter weekend and even the 4th of July.

I’ve been snowboarding for four years now and I’ve gotten a pass at Alpine Meadows for each of those. Every year I’ve found something else I love about Alpine that I hadn’t discovered before: The hikes, the trees, the Ice Bar, Randy, James and Scott, Kate and her magic wand at Summit Chair, women-only clinics, the amazing super-friendly marketing team, hula hoop competitions, free socks, and did I mention the hikes, the trees, and the powder? Oh. And the rescue dogs! Tell me seeing a Golden Retriever rescue dog riding down the chair lift, heads on paws, BY HIMSELF, isn’t the cutest thing ever. No don’t. Because you’d be wrong.

Last year, on a cold, blizzarding Monday, I rode straight down the mountain in three feet of powder for the very first time. I want to say I felt like I was flying, but that description doesn’t do it justice. I’ve been going to the mountains since I was three years old, but I’d never experienced anything like this. It was totally overwhelming and I never wanted it to end. My adrenaline was threw the roof. And when I got back to the lift…I burst into tears. The first time in my entire life I’ve ever cried tears of happiness. It was amazing.

Everything I’ve just written doesn’t explain, however, why I was so disappointed this morning when I woke up to the news that Alpine Meadows merged with Squaw Valley, so let me explain.

Squaw Valley is known worldwide for its amazing terrain and steeps. It’s known locally for it’s snobby staff, corporate attitude, elitist clientele, incredibly long lift lines, and the fact that it gets skied out in moments. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not opposed to getting a drink in the Squaw Valley Village après ski, but only after I’ve enjoyed an awesome day at Alpine Meadows and paid a visit to the Alpine Bar to say hi to the bartenders who greet me by name.

Alpine Meadows is more of a locals’ mountain. The staff is super friendly. The vibe is chill. You can find stashes of powder days after a big storm. It’s exactly what I want when I’m trying to escape from the city and the chaos of life.


In addition, with an Alpine Meadows pass always came a Homewood pass. Homewood is the perfect place to go on a windy day when the lifts at Alpine (and Squaw) aren’t running. There are many things about Homewood that could be improved (mainly the chair lifts), but Homewood is even chiller than Alpine and doesn’t seem to get skied out-ever.

Now, assuming everyone who loved Squaw continued to ski at Squaw and everyone who loves Alpine continued to ski at Alpine, this merger wouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? The only bummer would be the loss of Homewood as part of your pass (as of next year), which would be sad, but not a deal breaker.

Unfortunately, my prediction is this:

Any time Squaw skiers think Squaw is going to be crowded (long weekends etc.), they will come to Alpine Meadows and create longer lift lines and chaotic runs.

Any time there’s a powder day, Squaw skiers will flee the three hour KT lift lines they experienced last year and come to Alpine. In addition, those who do go to Squaw in the morning, will abandon Squaw as soon as it’s all skied out. By eleven a.m., most likely.

This merger is AWESOME for people who love Squaw. And the reactions on Facebook and Twitter have shown me that Squaw skiers are stoked. This is only good for them. They get to ski on their favorite mountain and then come take advantage of mine when they’re “finished” with theirs for the day.

But I can’t see anything good about this merger for people who call Alpine Meadows their home mountain. I have no desire to ski at Squaw. I don’t like the vibe or the lift lines, and frankly, I’ll take High-T over KT any day.


Alpine Meadows promises that they’re going to work hard not to change the laid-back neighborhood vibe. But how much say will they really have now that KSL is in charge?

Mostly, I just hope I’m wrong and that this is a good move for everyone involved. It's possible, for sure. But I’ll believe it when I ski it.

Until then, thank you everyone at Alpine Meadows for some truly amazing years. You guys are the best and I'll never forget your hospitality and awesome snow.

Getting Ready for "The Big One." (Or: Why You Probably Don't Want to Make Home Depot YOUR Meeting Spot)

My mother is a part-owner of the apartment building I reside in. And no, this does not mean I live there for free because she is not the type of woman to give handouts. When I was in sixth grade and I desperately wanted a double-cassette "stereo" with a digital radio and high-speed dub, I had to earn that $140 all by myself, which I did by rolling quarters from her buildings' laundry machines. In hindsight, I should have asked to be paid by the hour, not the roll, but that's the kind of thing you learn when your parent puts you to work.

When I finally had all of the money I needed and only a few blisters on my hands (not really), my mother took me to Macy's to buy my new stereo. I think the fact that I picked my stereo out at MACY'S says something about me, but I don't like what that thing is, so I'm going to move on. I then took it home, plugged it in, and ohmygod you guys: Bon Jovi has never sounded so magical. It also lasted me until my junior year of college, in case you were thinking that shopping for stereo at equipment at Macy's means I'm spoiled.

(Aside: it just occurred to me that considering I bought that thing with my own "hard-earned" cash, it was totally unfair that my mother routinely took it away as a punishment. You know, after grounding me and revoking my phone privileges. Do you know what it's like to be 12 years old without a phone OR Skid Row? I was tormented as a child, to say the least.)

Wow. All I was trying to do there was tell you that my mother is a part-owner of the apartment building I live in. But look at all that extra baggage you got as a free bonus? Yay, I can't afford therapy!

Moving right along: In addition to my mother being a part-owner of the building, my oldest brother is also the manager of the building. He lives on the ground floor; I live on the fourth. This is just enough distance to keep us from ever running into each other's one night stands (RIP: mine), but also means that I can shout to him from my window when pigeons invade my apartment (shudder) and give him my leftovers since I sometimes fear he subsides on beer and beer alone.

They say "no one reads anymore," so I'll make this easy for you. All you need to take away from the above five paragraphs is:

1. My mother is a part-owner of my apartment building and

2. My brother also lives in my building.

3. I no longer have one-night stands. Just kidding. I never had one-night stands. Not because I didn't try but because, seriously, guys are so much needier and more pathetic than they pretend to be. No I don't want to cudddle and then have brunch and see you next week for dinner. GO HOME ALREADY! And did you seriously already request to be my friend on Facebook? You haven't even left the bed for fuck's sake!

ANYHOO. My other brother, Ross, who does not live in or own my apartment building, sent an email out to the family a few months ago outlining a very detailed earthquake plan. If you don't have one, you totally should, but wow, they're super complicated and include things like: designated out of state contacts, primary and secondary meeting places, cards you're supposed to print out and fold up and put in your wallet (oopsie), removing anything hanging above your bed, putting a pair of shoes beneath your bed (broken glass, bitches), flashlights, and, well, you get the point. (Something to think about: It's good to keep about $500 cash in your apartment because if the city loses power, you're not going to be able to get cash and you're going to want some when you start your new life in Nevada which will now have amazing coastal views!)

How did this post start with my first boom box, linger awkwardly over one night stands, and finally land on earthquake safety? Is this what happens when I am left to my own devices and get hopped up on meth? KIDDING: Large black iced tea. I'm SO responsible.

So Ross sends this earthquake plan and designates his apartment in Potrero Hill as our primary meeting spot and the Home Depot in Colma as our secondary spot if, for whatever reason, we can't get to Potrero. His reasoning makes total sense: Potrero will be somewhat easy to get to for everyone and we don't need to cross any (now sinking in the water) bridges to get to Colma. He's so smart. And the Home Depot is OUR meeting spot; get your own. Unless you're bringing wine. Then come! We'll party!

I'm not going to bore you (TOO LATE, DAISY) with the details of Ross' email to the family, but it was very thoughtful and well planned out. All we had to do was nod and say, "Wow, thanks Ross!" and then wonder behind his back if he'd joined a cult.

But guess which member of the family JUST COULD NOT DO THAT? GUESS.

That's right...

My mother responded to the email asking if perhaps we could relocate the meeting spot to somewhere else. Somewhere like... HER home!

I mean. Of course she did.

Later that week, over lunch, I tried to explain to my mother why she should just let it go and leave Ross' apartmen as the meeting spot.

"But my home is just so much NICER. And I have enough beds. And it's really more convienient," she quibbled.

"Well, if that's the argument, then we should all meet at my building. Todd and I both live there and it's the most centrally located," I retorted.

"Oh," she scoffed as though I'd suggested the most inane thing ever. "There's no way your building will survive an earthquake that big."

If only there were someone to do something about that...