Weekends in the Sierra after a big snowstorm hold a special place in my heart. Winter adventures may not take me as far as summer ones, but they offer a unique, quieter escape—especially when I can find a path away from the crowds. That said, winter conditions demand attention. Avalanche danger often dictates my route, and after this latest storm, I knew I needed to stay low and safe.
Choosing the Right Route After a Major Sierra Snowstorm
The Sierra had just been blessed with 3-6 feet of fresh powder, but beneath that beauty lurked an unstable avalanche layer resting on an icy crust. With that in mind, I picked up my friend Tom in Minden and headed up Highway 395, fully aware that today’s adventure would be a meadow snowshoe rather than a high-mountain climb.
Luther Pass has always been a winter favorite of mine—if I can get there early enough to claim one of the limited parking spots. But with a late start, I wasn’t optimistic. As we turned onto Highway 89 from Highway 88 in Hope Valley, I was relieved to see that CalTrans had gone the extra mile, clearing additional roadside parking areas for winter adventurers. By the time we reached our usual spot at the top of the pass, we found a newly cleared wide area—perfect access for skiers and snowshoers looking to explore Waterhouse Peak and the surrounding meadows.
Breaking Trail in Deep Powder
After layering up, I strapped into my MSR Lightning Ascent snowshoes and climbed over the four-foot snowbank, ready to embrace the winter wonderland ahead. Almost immediately, I realized I had underestimated just how deep the powder was. Even with snowshoes, I sank in more than expected and quickly wished I had brought my deep-snow extensions. But the setting was too beautiful to complain. Snow-covered trees stood like frosted sentinels, and the air was crisp and still.
As Tom and I made our way through the trees toward the meadow, we stayed off a previously cut ski track, knowing how much work goes into creating those smooth gliding paths. Not five minutes in, a group of backcountry skiers passed by, nodding their appreciation for our courtesy. It’s a simple rule of winter etiquette: snowshoes can quickly destroy ski tracks, so I always try to break my own trail when possible.
Crossing Grass Lake Meadow
Reaching the open meadow, we found a welcome change in conditions. The wind-blown surface had created a firm crust, supporting our weight much better than the deep powder in the trees. A light dusting of fresh snow sparkled under the morning sun, making for easy, scenic trekking.
We decided to take the longer, clockwise loop around Grass Lake, hugging the tree line on the western side. This 3-5 mile route (depending on how much you explore) is popular with winter adventurers, especially skiers, but on this particular morning, Tom and I were the only ones heading in this direction. The solitude was incredible.
Diving briefly into the trees for some variety, I quickly rediscovered the challenge of deep powder. Every step required effort, but the sheer beauty of the snow-covered forest made it worthwhile. The Sierra in winter is truly magical—quiet, pristine, and utterly peaceful.
A Sobering Reminder of Avalanche Awareness
While I felt safe in the meadow, I knew that the surrounding backcountry held real avalanche risks. I naturally assumed that the skiers on the slopes above us were well aware of conditions. But just two days later, I learned that a solo skier had triggered an avalanche on Waterhouse Peak—and didn’t survive. It was a sobering reminder that even on a seemingly perfect day, the Sierra demands respect and awareness.
Meeting Fellow Adventurers & The Final Stretch
As we neared the end of our loop, we finally encountered other snowshoers, many with dogs joyfully bounding through the snow. The energy was infectious—everyone was soaking in the beauty of the day, thrilled to be out in nature. The once-empty meadow was now dotted with adventurers, and the bluebird sky above made for a stunning scene.
Heading back across the meadow toward Highway 89, I encountered softer snow, with water seeping beneath the surface. I’m not a big fan of walking over hidden water in snowshoes, even when it’s shallow, so I picked up the pace to reach solid ground. The final stretch through the trees felt easier, and as we reached the car, I was grateful I hadn’t over-layered. My Smartwool base layer and Outdoor Research winter hoodie had been the perfect combination for this bluebird day.
The Perfect End to a Winter Adventure
Three hours of snowshoeing, a mix of effort and ease, and endless winter beauty—this was the perfect Sierra escape. On summer hikes, I’d typically wrap up with a trip to a local burger shack, but today, Tom and I had another idea. A new spot in Carson Valley, Big Chicken, had been calling our name. And after a long morning in the snow, a warm, crispy chicken sandwich sounded like the ideal way to refuel.
Where to next? The Sierra always has another adventure waiting.
