A triple perfect number. A perfect evening.
After seeing Dave's post from their Saturday blitzkrieg I invited Dave and his son Brett to join us on a planned dusk patrol. Dave phoned Monday night to encourage me to push the start time to earlier; I thought perhaps to accommodate the middle school(er) schedule. Being Brett's Science teacher, I easily obliged.
In class, I asked Brett if I was going to have to chase him up the mountain. Later as I climbed in his family VW van, I turned to him in the w a y back and promised that I wasn't going to make this outing a lesson: although he should probably pay attention to the Newton's three laws of motion as it related to skiing. (I do have a bias about the development of science education and a connection to the outdoors :)
In the blazing sun at about 4:45 pm, we were stunned by the backlight leaves of the scrub and brush dominating the lower slopes of Alpental. Brett schooled me and selected a fine line over creek crossings and up the limited remnant snow patches. At the flats, the R's busted out their snack bag before beginning our skin up Deb's Gold to the base of chair 2. Snow, continuous from here on, was soft and sometimes slippery. New construction is underway on the access ramp of Chair 2. I skinned above into the little bowl and took about a dozen turns while Dave and Brett dined on dinner. The view of Red Mountain was lovely. 
We skied the main line on Deb's Gold and found the snow sticky and s l o w. Pine pollen got gloppy on the bases of our babies. We hauled ourselves out on a block of concrete, like seals seeking some sun and dry land, to dry off the skis and reattach our soaked skins. Just then, Cass, Kelvin, and Mark arrived, from their ascent up Sessel, as we had planned.
Introductions made, we skinned again the same route. Brett got frustrated with his floppy wet skins and called it a wonderful night about half way up. Nice job Brett! We bid Dave and Brett farewell and continued higher. The guys headed to Denny. I gained the ridge to the cat-track and enjoyed the simple solitude and silence of snow.
We all skied out the couloir skier’s left (Eisenfallen). Lovely turns and little gladed "gate" opportunity. Crossing the snow bridge on the major creek crossing, Kelvin discovered the melt-out find of the season. He emerged from behind the huge rock with a snowboard strapped to his pack and a huge grin stuck on his face. This made for a good beacon to follow through the brush in the fading light. True to dusk patrol style, we hit the bridge in the darkest of dusk and the glow of the little lights, which paled in comparison to the moon.
more photos here and here
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