The forecast kept me out of the mountains, I just didn’t have the heart to face freezing rain. Where was Spring?
The next day dawned sunny, if not warm, so it was into the car and off to the north, time to get back to work on the Grid. Along the way I noticed the sky was clear overhead, but cloudy along the horizon — upon reflection, it seemed this must always be the case, because when you look at a low angle, you see the mass of all those clouds and not the gaps between them.
Good spirits lasted for a little while until when cresting a rise on the highway, suddenly there were the Catskills right in front, with Plateau Mountain in particular stretching out as if with open arms to welcome, embrace, and crush me to pieces against its frosty white chest. White not being the color of clear slopes and clean trails, like I’d been hoping for, but hardly a surprise, either, since the mountains create their own weather.
Pulling into the trailhead now, the valley socked in with a high cloud layer and snow dappling the ground…