March is a funny time for snowboarding in Oregon. Sometimes you have perfect sunny days. Bluebird days. The sky is impossibly blue, the snow is sun-soft, and your only option at the end of the day is to sit on the patio and enjoy a beer. How could you not? It’s spring riding at its best.
And sometimes you have storm days. The wind is whipping things around so much you can’t tell if it’s snowing or not, but either way you can’t see. You hunker down on the lift and imagine you’re somewhere else, somewhere pleasant where frostbite doesn’t exist. The snow is deep, sometimes a little heavy, and you have to make for the trees to find the best lines, the non-wind scoured spots, the untouched paths. We had one of those days last week. At times, I couldn’t see anything at all, almost to the point of vertigo. At that point, you just aim for down.