When Dan and I arrived at the Hyak parking lot it was once again nearly empty. It was just above freezing, but that didn't stop the rain from pelting us as we geared up. We trudged up the slope under the chair lifts, but headed north instead of south in front of the water tower. We found a very steep slope and kick-stepped our way up. By the time we had joined up with the nordic trail we were both sweating and I had all my zippers (well, all but one) open for a little ventilation.

We found the correct junction of roads and turned properly, but then made a premature turn to the south at the next intersection. We quickly discovered our error and retraced our steps. The GPS pointed the way off-trail to Hyak Lake through deep snow and we soon found ourselves on the shore looking across the lake at a red sky courtesy of the night skiers at Summit Central.

In addition to the normal hot chocolate and emergency bars Amy had packed us a baby bottle full of Starbucks liqueur. Sure, the hot chocolate physically warmed us, but the coffee kick was what really got us going.

Back on the roads we studied the signs and determined we needed to cross under the power lines and then go off-trail straight ahead where the road teed. Unfortunately, this turned out to be a near disaster as the area was full of short trees bent over by the snow. Every few steps we'd punch through into a tree well and find ourselves caught in a monkey-trap of sorts. We backtracked and stuck to the road a bit to the south before jumping on a snowshoe trail. Each of these decisions seemed to be getting us farther from the lake, though, so we headed back.

At the tee where we had forged our own path we continued straight. (This would have been a right turn as we approached from the power lines.) Down a short hill and voila! Rockdale Lake. We bounded down a steep slope to the shore and had more hot chocolate and coffee-based booze.

While we were shooting pictures it suddenly got very dark. It took us a few moments to figure out it was 10:30pm. Half an hour after the lifts closed they turned off most of the night skiing lights. What a difference. (It also seemed to get colder, but that must have been our imaginations.)

We packed up and returned the way we had come, but without the detour to the south. We picked up the steep hill (third on the left after the big sign if you're looking for it) and I tried to convince Dan to glissade down, but he found it easier, though not faster, to walk. I got a chance to try out my new ice axe (I had taken it and used it sparingly on the Skyline Lake trip two days previous) and came to two conclusions:

1) Self-arresting with an ice axe is an art, but like snowshoeing you can get the basics pretty quickly.

2) Without a leash attaching your arm to the ice axe you're not likely to have an ice axe for very long. (Luckily it was all just a drill so I stopped myself with the cleats on my 'shoes.)

Back at the car the snow was pounding down. The radio advisory lady said the road was fine and it was just overcast. The variable speed limit was set at 45 mph. The lady should have updated the broadcast to say visibility was near zero and possessed vertiginous qualities as the winds blew it in just about every possible direction.

Total distance was about 5.75 miles and about 1,600 feet.