Yesterday offered up yet another bluebird day at Squaw Valley USA! I'm starting to get used to the perfect weather. In fact, this morning we were supposed to leave and head off to
Benicia, California to catch up with friends, but the conditions were so sublime that we postponed our departure to ski a half day.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Rewind. Okay, yesterday... Susan took another lesson in the morning from 9-11 AM while I knocked out some work, then we rendezvoused at
Mamasake, a "new-style Japanese" joint boasting the Raw at Squaw slogan. We'd eaten there earlier in the week and were pleased with the grub, and its location in the courtyard outside our condo made it an easy place to meet. Once again, we ate well, but left overly stuffed.
I spent most of the afternoon lapping the pistes accessed from Siberia chair, but we also skiied Emigrant, Sun Bowl, and other underpopulated runs. Sun-soaked and exhausted we gathered at the
Auld Dubliner for a perfect black and tan and (I must admit) some greasy and oh-so-delicious fries and chicken wings. Not only were the libations and victuals just right, but the interior of this pub is about as authentic as you could hope for in the California Sierras: "This Irish Pub was built in Ireland, then dismantled, shipped over and reassembled." We opted for an early evening since the activity of the last week was beginning to catch up with us: soup and salad in our condo after a long soak. Then sleep!
As I mentioned earlier, we weren't ready to hit the road yet this morning, so we returned to the slopes for a couple of hours. Another near zero population day with burn-the-fat-out-of-your-brain perfect conditions. I could get used to this! But reality reined us in, so we headed back to Squaw Village, packed and checked out. Before jumping on I-80 West and winding our way back toward San Francisco we wandered around Tahoe City and soaked up some beautiful biews of Lake Tahoe. Sure it's February and that water looked cold, bit it didn't stop some extreme water lovers from a day on the lake. We spied several kayakers paddling across the bay as well as a lone fisherman in his small motorized punt. And then it was off to
Rosie's Cafe for another feast before saying good bye to newlywed Chris, jumping in the cherry Durango and heading off to Benicia.
Susan piloted us the 2.5-3 hour drive while I snoozed and drank up the scenery. As we arrived in Benicia the sun was setting, and the pastel skies looked like they'd been borrowed from a Miami Vice rerun. A dramatic backdrop for the bay beyond the
Benicia Studios where we met up with Mark and Roseanne. After a tour of Mark's
IntuitiveISP facilities and Roseanne's
Wild Rose Studio we all piled back into the car to look for the
Bull Valley Restaurant which is tucked rather inconspicuously into the rolling hills of the East Bay in a miniscule little town called Port Costa which is home to more automobiles than people. We wandered the highways and byways for half the night, repeatedly calling the restaurant for help interpreting the driving instructions we'd pulled off their website. After getting lost some three or four times, we finally arrived for a surprisingly good meal including an order of
Tequila Lime Prawns that blew all of our socks off.
The return drive was quicker, and we fell into our large, comfortable bed at
The Inn at Benicia Bay, no doubt sound asleep before our heads hit the pillows. Z-z-z-z-z...
Yesterday offered up yet another bluebird day at Squaw Valley USA! I'm starting to get used to the perfect weather. In fact, this morning we were supposed to leave and head off to Benicia, California to catch up with friends, but the conditions were so sublime that we postponed our departure to ski a half day.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Rewind. Okay, yesterday... Susan took another lesson in the morning from 9-11 AM while I knocked out some work, then we rendezvoused at Mamasake, a "new-style Japanese" joint boasting the Raw at Squaw slogan. We'd eaten there earlier in the week and were pleased with the grub, and its location in the courtyard outside our condo made it an easy place to meet. Once again, we ate well, but left overly stuffed.
I spent most of the afternoon lapping the pistes accessed from Siberia chair, but we also skiied Emigrant, Sun Bowl, and other underpopulated runs. Sun-soaked and exhausted we gathered at the Auld Dubliner for a perfect black and tan and (I must admit) some greasy and oh-so-delicious fries and chicken wings. Not only were the libations and victuals just right, but the interior of this pub is about as authentic as you could hope for in the California Sierras: "This Irish Pub was built in Ireland, then dismantled, shipped over and reassembled." We opted for an early evening since the activity of the last week was beginning to catch up with us: soup and salad in our condo after a long soak. Then sleep!
As I mentioned earlier, we weren't ready to hit the road yet this morning, so we returned to the slopes for a couple of hours. Another near zero population day with burn-the-fat-out-of-your-brain perfect conditions. I could get used to this! But reality reined us in, so we headed back to Squaw Village, packed and checked out. Before jumping on I-80 West and winding our way back toward San Francisco we wandered around Tahoe City and soaked up some beautiful biews of Lake Tahoe. Sure it's February and that water looked cold, bit it didn't stop some extreme water lovers from a day on the lake. We spied several kayakers paddling across the bay as well as a lone fisherman in his small motorized punt. And then it was off to Rosie's Cafe for another feast before saying good bye to newlywed Chris, jumping in the cherry Durango and heading off to Benicia.
Susan piloted us the 2.5-3 hour drive while I snoozed and drank up the scenery. As we arrived in Benicia the sun was setting, and the pastel skies looked like they'd been borrowed from a Miami Vice rerun. A dramatic backdrop for the bay beyond the Benicia Studios where we met up with Mark and Roseanne. After a tour of Mark's IntuitiveISP facilities and Roseanne's Wild Rose Studio we all piled back into the car to look for the Bull Valley Restaurant which is tucked rather inconspicuously into the rolling hills of the East Bay in a miniscule little town called Port Costa which is home to more automobiles than people. We wandered the highways and byways for half the night, repeatedly calling the restaurant for help interpreting the driving instructions we'd pulled off their website. After getting lost some three or four times, we finally arrived for a surprisingly good meal including an order of Tequila Lime Prawns that blew all of our socks off.
The return drive was quicker, and we fell into our large, comfortable bed at The Inn at Benicia Bay, no doubt sound asleep before our heads hit the pillows. Z-z-z-z-z...