Today started off in an auspicious manner when I had to clear some fresh snow off my car and actually arrived on time to meet my brother in the Waits-burg grocery store parking lot. This was followed by a stop for a delicious breakfast sandwich at the famous Vermont Country Store in Pittsfield. Unfortunately, the breakfast sandwiches did not quite live up to those of yore, but next time we will ask for extra Cabot cheddar cheese and mayo.

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Upon arriving at Okemo, we had to park in the lower lot and ride the baby-blue school bus up to the base lodge, indicating the general crowdedness of the resort. At this point, I was just happy to be wearing my new resort-ready jacket, which had not yet been trotted out for the season because I'd only done backcountry up until this point. Once at the base, Seth took the boards in one direction to purchase our tickets, while I went in another direction towards the lodge.

After visiting the facilities and standing dumbly in the middle of the lodge for a moment or two, I found a place to sit and tighten my boots. I had just finished up and was putting on my helmet and resort-ready jacket, when I noticed that one of my brand-new Celtek mitts was missing. This is when things turned from merriment and peppermint sticks to blackness and desolation. I retraced my steps in search of the mitt with no luck, then checked in with the Mountain Ambassadors' Desk and at the Lost & Found. The mitten was nowhere to be found, but luckily one of the helpful resort employees offered me a thing of wonder: a pair of Seirus gloves to borrow for the day.

After leaving the lonely mitten that remained with the Mountain Ambassadors and asking them to keep an eye out for its twin, I headed outside with my Seirus gloves to find Seth waiting for me. I explained the awful mitt situation to him, at which point he nodded towards my borrowed gloves and said, "Aren't those Swany Toasters?" I told him that I didn't want to talk about it anymore and grumbled towards the lift.

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I was momentarily distracted from my mitt misery by the fact that Okemo has installed conveyor belts to help its patrons board the primary lift. I was nearly jerked off my feet as I slid onto the conveyor belt, but stayed upright and managed to board the chair. "I think I'm starting to remember why I wanted to start doing more backcountry," I said to Seth as we ascended. Crowds, wind, and a lost mitt threatened to ruin my day.

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By the time we made it to our second lift, I was feeling a bit better and had plenty of time while waiting in the massive lift line to appreciate the wonder of my borrowed Seirus gloves. My hands were toasty warm and after some scientific testing that involved holding my hands up, backs towards the wind, I determined that they were windproof. The tag proclaimed that they were "breathable and waterproof" and the palms backed up that claim with gray Gore-tex throughout and black Gore-tex layered over the gray on the fingertips (for added breathability and waterproof-ness, I'm sure). The best added feature was duel vents, one on either side of the back of the gloves, to ensure maximum airflow in case of too-warm hands.

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The conditions at the mountain can best be described as chowder over ice. It was also quite windy going up the main lift, but luckily, as true chowder ferrets, we headed to the "sunny" side of the hill and found some nice chowder stashes, the best of which was located immediately opposite a sizable blue ice patch. It was clear that Okemo had recently picked up a large amount of fresh snow--the only problem was that there was either no base or a base of solid ice. We found some nice lines, though, my favorite being our last run. For the first time all day there was no one else on the slope and the surface was hard packed powder, perfect for laying down some hero carves.

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Note from Seth - Doing the surfing penguin, feeling the burn, that's all.

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At the end of the day (ie: noon), we returned to the lodge. The moment of truth had arrived. Had my errant mitt reappeared during the couple hours we were out riding? I went to the Mountain Ambassadors' desk and found that they only had the single mitt I'd given them earlier. Next I walked towards the Lost & Found, holding up my single mitt as I went. The girl working there immediately whipped out my mitt's twin and relief washed over me. SUCCESS! All of the agonizing handwear research I'd done back in October was not in vain and I would get to wear the Celtek mitts more than one and a half times after all.

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The rest of the day was a blur of beer and falling snow and joyfulness and nachos.