Ostrander Ski Hut

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We started out on a snowy, stormy, cold day. My dad and I almost not going (because of the storm) decided to keep our plans of going to Ostrander ski hut.

It's a ten mile ski, almost all up hill. Now you may wonder what the point is and sometimes I do to, but when I get there I remember why.

A warm cozy hut (a little house type structure) surrounded by a snowy bowl of mountains. Sometimes fresh powder! Gorgeous sunsets, card games and Monopoly, and digging snow tunnels and caves, all make Ostrander memorable.

On this particular day my dad and I were going into Ostrander, (we start at Badger Pass Ski Resort, in Yosemite National Park.) to meet my mom, brother Fritz, and some other family friends.

The snow and rain fell on us as we started. It was a machine made track for the first four miles, very boring.

It was uphill, it was flat, and best of all there was a little downhill. We were making pretty good time.

We trudged along through the storm. I, whistling to myself, and telling myself poems, and the story, Where the Wild Things Are, a poem I was memorizing for the Redbud Festival. Anything to keep myself going up the steep, dreaded hills.

Uphill, skiing along through the fresh snow. I was soaked completely, and my Dad and I could both ring out our Gortex gloves, and water poured out.

Still making good time we came to the base of Horizon Hill. Now this isn't just any hill, this is an absolutely HUGE hill. So steep you think you're going to die.

We skied on up, stopping for a second at every tree to find the next yellow, triangle shaped sign that marked the trail in the white surroundings.

Not even stopping for lunch, we survived on candy bars and Gatorade. We didn't talk much but concentrated on conquering Horizon Hill. Though I recall one conversation about frost bite and hypothermia.

Up and up and up, until we were to the top. But we weren't there, no we were far, far from there.

We skied along the side of the mountain, looking at the trees and how they were bare on the side that faced away from the mountain. I found out why when crossing a tree less part of the mountain feeling myself being pushed down by the wind.

At last we were to the downhill. Just a small, small fraction of the uphill.

Skiing along. Feeling better since I had made it over Horizon. I was reminded, by Heart Attack Hill, that I was still far from there. Heart Attack just about explains its name, even though it's not nearly as big as Horizon. Once you have gotten to it all your hopes fall and you think you are never going to make it. All the wet and cold came back to me.

I started up the dreadful hill, with only the thought of a warm down sleeping bag, hot chocolate , and a fire to keep me going. Then at last, we were to the top.

The last part went all too slow thinking that around every corner and every bend we would see the oh, so longed for hut. Then, finally when I was seriously about to break down we were there!

I skied my fastest, turned into the hut, jumped out of my skies, and ran to the warmth of the fire. All my friends and family were amazed than my dad and I had made it.

After a delicious dinner (my mom and my friend Katheline had hiked the food in that summer) I climbed up the ladder to the loft, where I like to sleep most, and settled into my sleeping bag. I fell asleep quickly after a hard day of skiing.

The next morning I woke up to see the hills, slopes, and frozen-over lake (Which you would think was a meadow) covered with a thick new fresh layer of fluffy inviting powder! I remembered why I love coming to Ostrander so much.