When Ski Incline at Lake Tahoe expanded to 8,500 feet with a new quad to become Diamond Peak back in 1987, Lee Weber Koch invited me to be the first civilian to ride up with her and mountain manager Jim Bradshaw, and ski down. What an honor.
School was out that day, and I did not get off the air until ten o’clock, so the kids were lined up and wetting their pants waiting for me. There are adults in our village today who still hate me for holding them up on that memorable day.
At risk of damaging my reputation for humility, I asked if Diamond Peak might consider naming that new run after me. But they only laughed and insisted, “Faceplant would not be an appropriate name!”
That great gentleman and fabulous skier, George Galante RIP taught me how to ski in ’83, and he did it while skiing backwards. I was a surfer fresh from the Islands so it was no easy task, but George was patient and coaxed me down the avalanche shutes of Mt. Rose, back when they were out of bounds and we had to hitchhike back up from Mt. Rose Highway.
George, God Rest his beautiful soul, never worked a day in his life. He taught skiing in the winter and tennis in the summer. He hailed me one day in the village and told me he had a confession to make. I said, “George, please don’t tell me you had to work a day. I’ll be crushed!”
“Yes,” he confessed, “I had to take three cocktail waitresses skiing!”
I bought him an adult beverage and we both recovered, but my immense respect for him was forever damaged.
We had such great fun back in those days, skiing all day, then retiring to the social club in the lodge for an après ski drink and some good conversation, which usually led to talking about sports and laying a sawbuck down at the Hyatt Sports Book on a little three-teamer made in heaven.
Along with riding a perfect wave, hitting a perfect golf shot, or getting a kiss from your sweetheart, there is nothing comparable to a bluebird day at Diamond Peak.
I would be up there today, instead of writing this dang column, but my friends told me I was a hazard to them, so I gracefully retired from skiing a few years ago.
Still, on my daily walks, I gaze up there and long to be gliding down, with a song in my heart, carving turns to the beat of Lido Shuffle, and thanking those who came before me for making Diamond Peak such a wonderful place to capture the essence of life with a perfect run.
Happy Sixtieth Birthday Diamond Peak…we love you!
— For more than 35 years, in over 4,000 performances, columnist and Chautauquan McAvoy Layne has been dedicated to preserving the wit and wisdom of “The Wild Humorist of the Pacific Slope,” Mark Twain. As Layne puts it: “It’s like being a Monday through Friday preacher, whose sermon, though not reverently pious, is fervently American.” Want to hear McAvoy Layne tell it? Go here for an audio version of this column.
