Timberline

My cousin Dorla came to visit one winter when I still lived with my parents in Portland Oregon. She and I went to Mount Hood to try skiing. We had both skied in Minnesota on Moyer's Hill. Our skill was tested more than a little when we got to Timberline Lodge.
You see, at Moyer's Hill, you walk up this long hill. That is, long by Minnesota standards. It was maybe two hundred yards horizontally and, let me see, about fifty feet in height. If my math is right, that makes it a whopping eight percent. Makes my head spin thinking about it.When you get to the top of this long hill, you strap your skis onto your boots and choose a route between the brush patches. Carefully, push yourself downward until the hill takes over. Swoosh. Wow, that was fun.
Well, Dorla and I learned at Timberline the hill has control long before you think about your skis. Why, if you point your feet downslope without your skies, you go farther and faster than we ever did in Minnesota. By the end of our day, I had mastered the slope by the rope tow. I was stoked.
The next fall I heard about Timberline hiring help for the winter skiing season. Count me in. I got hired for the weekends. They gave us a dorm and half price on food, wages and $3.85 per weekend for bus fare. Since I had a reliable Ford Falcon, I was very popular. No one wanted to ride the bus, so they offered me their $3.85 to share a ride. Boy did I get rich in a hurry. I could haul all five of us and never slow down below thirty miles per hour.
Our Lodging was in Government Camp and we would ride the shuttle up from Government Camp to Timberline Lodge each morning to work for the day. At the end of our shift, we would ski down the Glade Trail to our dorm. Those were the days, my friend. We thought they'd never end. But they did.
Kayak Bandit '(*!*)'