Never mind that it was snowing heavily and Logan Canyon (along with American Fork Canyon, Little Cottonwood Canyon and a number of other popular canyon routes) were closed due to a number of avalanches.
He left our house around 7:30 a.m. to meet his daughter and her twin 9-year-old grandsons at Beaver Mountain at around 10-ish, I thought.
(I tossed my skis, along with my Olympic dreams, about 10 years ago, in favor of having working knees and original hips.)
I didn't worry overmuch until around noon when I started seeing news reports of multiple avalanches in the canyons.
Logan Canyon was reportedly closed.
Hmmm.
That is on the way to Beaver Mountain ski resort.
I knew the cell phone service was not good, in fact, pretty much non-existent where he should be.
But did he make it to the resort before the closure?
I did some detective work and found he had charged the lift pass so he must be on the hill.
I went on about my business at home.
But around 3 p.m. I started a new round of worries.
What if he was stuck? What if he was just taking his own sweet time? What if he didn't care that I was stressing about his well-being?
When should I expect to hear from him?
How heavy was the snow where he was skiing?
Couldn't he call from the road once he started home?
He was scheduled to drive by another household of grandkids in Tremonton on the way so I figured he could call from there...
Nothing.
I went from worrying to fuming.
Finally a call, from Bear Lake. What???
They'd started home and been re-routed to Bear Lake and around to Preston, Idaho.
He made it here at around 10 p.m., safe and sound but pretty tired of driving in the snow.
I was pretty worn out from all the anxiety.
I'm thinking next time he better pack a lunch or a bag.
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