The seasons abound.
What was to be my last run of the day was almost what you'd call a whiteout. You couldn't see the terrain changes - before you knew it you'd be right on top of a mogul, or off piste. Half way down the M1 trail I came across a medical party putting some girls right leg in a splint.
Right there and then I decided that it was a good time to stop for the day: IG and Matt went up again. The story of that lift ride was one of even more discomfort; frankly I thought they were both nuts.
Around 4pm we decided to pack up and head down the hill; by this stage the snow was falling heavily and we were beginning to wonder if we shouldn't have left earlier. We decided against chains; although it looked marginal we knew that the snow would probably peter out before we traveled too far down the mountain: we were sorely mistaken; it was still snowing heavily at the bottom, and on through to Queenstown.
We were about to experience something magical; snow to lake level.
Turns out the day knew what it was up to all along.