Benign Girl vs. Elk Slayer

Back from a few refreshing days in the snowy north, with feeling slowly returning to my fingers and toes as heat creeps through the apartment. (If somebody could explain to me why California homes are never, ever insulated, it'd ease my mind. Thanks.)

Our epic journey began on Friday morning in the pouring rain, loading up two cars with five people, delicious coffee and pastry from La Farine, and all the food and supplies you can imagine for three days and nights in a cabin at 8,000 feet, accessible only by foot or snowmobile. Off we go!

About halfway through the ride, we had our first real road trip moment: Riding along next to a burly pickup lavishly decorated with paintings of horned beasts frolicking in the forest beneath a colorful sunrise, topped by the priceless vanity . . . Elk Slayer. We didn't try to pass him.

Then another killer find by Miss Emily, looking over the meager toy selection while we waited in the line for the bathroom at a fuel stop. "My god, that can't be real," I heard her murmur in wonder. But it was.

Ladies and gentlemen, the hoochie gas-station gift of choice for the special child in your life—Benign Girl. Andrew, always quick on the uptake, made the whole thing even better: "Yeah, but where's Malignant Boy?" Thus are road trip legends born.

Those promising adventures behind us, we reached Bear Valley in a steady downpour to meet the rest of our group. Eleven strong, we loaded our soaking wet selves and gear into Jeff the Flaky Snowmobile Guy's ride (after waiting 45 minutes outside for him to "be right back"), bounced our blind way to the door of our cabin, and stumbled in. We admired the hotel-worthy toilet covers and the giant inflatable deer head by the front door. Then we dried off, got the fire started, and cooked up a latke and chicken storm.

It was still raining hard on Saturday morning, so we all started bracing ourselves for a weekend of board games and staring out the window. Then the temperature slowly began to cooperate . . . crept down . . . and brought us more than three feet of snow by this morning.

Everyone put the big bags of snowshoes and cross-country skis to good use during the day, then gathered by the fire at night with rosy cheeks for lavish group dinners and highly charged games of Sorry. I didn't remember how awesome Sorry is. Seriously, run to your nearest game store and pick it up. Nothing goes better with a Chilean Malbec and a freezing midnight.

The trip home was long but uneventful, no Elk Slayers in sight. But we did each pick up a Benign Girl for posterity. Some things are sacred.

Happy new year!