Tahoe Weekend 2026

Our Sierra retreat last weekend was blessed with an abundance of snow and cursed with a storm that stranded us on I-80.  Hoping to arrive Thursday afternoon, instead we were met by a Caltrans crew in Colfax who closed the highway due to "zero visibility."  After waiting things out at Auburn's Alehouse, Terry, Paul, and I descended another 1,500 feet to secure two precious hotel rooms in Roseville.  Meanwhile, Tom and Larry--who wisely decided to wait until Friday to depart--enjoyed a little schadenfreude at our expense. Everything improved once we arrived in Truckee on Friday afternoon.  The weather was spectacular, the snow ubiquitous, and the company excellent.  As in the past, as we fell into our familiar routines of outdoor exertion and indoor excess.  The following illustrates the sanitized parts of our weekend....

Plenty of snow at the house, especially for these two city slickers.

 Paul's dinner on Friday started with outstanding crudites, to which this picture does no justice.  Too bad we have no pictures of the main event: Paul's nicely-paired butternut risotto, grilled sausages, and falafel salad.

On Saturday morning, the snowshoe hike started off in promising fashion: Terry broke trail and the rest of us took advantage of his hard work.

Things eventually deteriorated.  Below, Peter's glare, Paul's heavyweight down, and Terry's vamping slowed our progress.

At the turnaround point,  Andrew, Larry, and Terry are standing at the western edge of the Martis Valley, with Northstar's back runs in the distance.

Of course, it had to happen.  No outdoor swim at 6,000 feet is complete without time on the snow!

A trip to town for coffee and a little truth--but no sighting of our favorite one-armed barista.  She remains MBC lore.

Peter and Larry, who spent far too long in the warming hut and far too little time on the trail. (Unseen are the rest of us, nibbling cookies off to the side.)

Paul, in a rare moment of contemplation, sits quietly while Tom prepares his world-famous lasagna on Saturday.  Terry, sporting technical plaid, plays coy in front of the camera.

Peter thinks no one is looking as he tucks in for seconds.  Yes, Tom's lasagna and fixings are that good!

At dinner's end, a group shot. (Don't miss the infamous painting in the background.  It only took 5 men and a ladder to hang it last year.)