We stayed at a very nice timeshare of J.'s at Creekside. Slept in on Saturday morning, then went down for the afternoon session (1 to 4 PM). Only Whistler was open (not Blackcomb). The lower third of the mountain had no snow on it, so we had to ride the gondola up to the skiable area. It was overcast and snowing lightly. We had a good time and wiped ourselves out. That night, we got dinner in Whistler Village, and Damien and E. drank a prodigious amount of beer.
On Sunday, I was tempted to skip the skiing due to fatigue from Saturday, but somehow we got ourselves up despite short sleep, and headed down to the lifts at 8:30. Damien and I were offered a kind of season pass for less than the cost of the single-day lift ticket, so we bought those, and now we can come back for a discount, if we can make it again before the resort closes on June 4. We arrived on the mountain by 10:15, after picking up another snowboarding companion, Barry from South Africa, in the gondola. The weather was harsher, and on the peak especially, it was snowing so hard that you could barely see the guideposts on the sides of the trail. At one point after lunch, I got separated from the group, and after taking a lift back up to the peak and coming down a blue run, I was getting ready to head to the emergency rendezvous point down in Whistler Village (since I was exhausted anyway) when I heard Damien call my name. It was good that he found me, because they had been searching for me for a while and they'd apparently begun to get really worried. It was about 2:30 and everyone else seemed as tired as I was, so we decided to call it a day. We went back to the condo, collected our things, and drove home.
So I'm paying for it a little today -- the windburned face, muscle aches, and not enough sleep (especially the latter -- man, I've gotten soft since giving up polyphasic sleep) are killing my mood and concentration. But it was pretty fun.