There is a moment in each season when we remember why we put up with the wind and the cold and THE WIND and the lack of snow and the idea that a ski area needs snow to BE ALIVE. Then there is that moment where it reaches critical mass and we can pass under the ropes (albeit carefully) and visit old friends and new and glide through deep, silent powder on the appropriate tool. It was only 7 inches (that is indeed, what she said) but it was enough to open up some obscure woods and be in the silence and the depth and away from the dreaded SKI RUNS and into the crux of the biscuit. Eldora, we love you. We hate you. We worship you.