I left on Friday, March 15, with my son Joseph, 13, and daughter Joana, 8, as the radio was broadcasting an ominous weather report. We picked up Kai in Pleasanton as usual and continued on in my Honda. When we got close to Sacramento, black clouds were to our left, but with a rainbow in front, we considered it a good omen. We drove beside, but not in the rain.

Suddenly, at 8:30 p.m. near Kyburz, we came to a dead stop... and stayed there for two hours. The road was damp but it wasn't raining. Since we couldn't get the traffic report on the radio, we weren't sure what was going on. Groups of cars were coming the other way, so we figured the road was open. But after the second hour we realized that people were turning around miles ahead! Kai had had enough by this point. "This is ridiculous!" Although Joseph had promised to be pleasant for the weekend, he resorted to, "You know, this really sucks. Why can't you guys do this on a nice, sunny weekend? I want to go home to my cat." Joana and I secretly smiled at each other in the back seat, as she made an "X" with her fingers behind Joseph's back. We turned back.

The second good omen was that we got the last room in Placerville at the Carey House, a beautifully restored old hotel complete with an iron-gated elevator. When we woke up the next morning and looked outside, we were surprised that a blanket of snow covered the town and huge flakes were coming down fast. The storm arrived Friday night instead of Saturday night as predicted, and we guessed the worst was yet to come. Did we want to get stuck in Tahoe even if we could make it?

In the breakfast room, travelers (Kai called them Highway 50 refugees) were discussing their options. We learned that there had been spin-outs and cars in ditches the night before, and Highway 50 had been closed. Some dudes in beefy SUVs decided to go on, but many others turned back. I happened to strike up a conversation with a couple who lives in Zephyr Cove, where we were to be married at 2 p.m. They assured me that we'd get through. "The road rarely closes and there isn't that much snow yet. It'll just take ya longer than usual." Joana and I were convinced, but Joseph and Kai were not and hence reluctant to continue. But after some discussion, we decided to go on, chaining up in the hotel parking lot.

We rumbled onto 50, which was wet, and not snowy as the hotel clerk had said. Tuning in to the weather radio gave us the latest info -- chains required 34 miles ahead, so we pulled into a gas station and took them off. Some guys in a pickup truck were just putting their chains on, so Kai let them know that they weren't necessary. The pickup driver said "I'm telling ya man, they made me turn around just ahead." But we went on without chains. Sure enough, three miles ahead, there were chain control signs. Kai, cursing, put the chains back on, even though the road was still clear of snow and just wet.

The going was slow and Joseph's mood was disintegrating rapidly (remember, 13 years old). Chain control sergeants funneled traffic into one lane in several places. Finally, we reached Echo Summit and I was pretty sure we'd make it. But suddenly I realized that I didn't know when the county offices closed -- and we still needed a wedding license. I knew they opened at 9 a.m., but never checked on the closing time, because I thought we'd be in Tahoe on Saturday morning. After all of this effort, would we have to call off the wedding because of bureaucratic paperwork?

At 12:50 p.m., we pulled into the county office. No problema -- they were open until 8 p.m. But we still had to hustle, because our wedding was scheduled for 2 p.m. The plan was for a service at Zephyr Point, but the wind was cold. I called the minister to see if we could delay the service a bit and have the wedding at our cabin. His wife answered and told me that a delay wasn't possible. "He's doing the 1:00 wedding, you're the 2:00 and then he has a 3:00. "However, she did agree to call and tell him to come to the cabin instead. Would he make it to the new location?

At 1:40, we finally arrived at our cabin. Kai, Joana and I and hurriedly changed clothes while Joseph set up the audio -- his personal CD player with little speakers attached. Joana stuffed her basket with rose petals. Kai and I quickly assembled the tiers of the wedding cake and put the plastic bride and groom on top. Right at 2 p.m., the minister knocked on the door and we opened it as if we'd been ready for hours.

As Joseph started the music, Joana walked down the open stairway from the loft, scattering rose petals and taking her job very seriously. She's always wanted to be a flower girl. I followed. Joseph was the ring man and the witness. Kai and I said our vows near the hearth and the minister left after a few minutes (for his 3:00). The rest of us we ate wedding cake and drank sparkling apple cider. "Who wants to play Scrabble?" Why not? It was too cold and blustery outside for the kids. We'd planned to go to the new tubing hill at Heavenly, but the 12 hours of driving out of the last 24 left everyone ready to chill out. Later, we had a nice dinner at the Zephyr Cove Lodge. In the morning, we saw that the real storm had come in, so we headed home after breakfast. It took us nearly eight hours to drive home.

Some of you may remember that Kai and I first met in 1980 on a PCS trip to Death Valley -- one of Marge Ottenberg and Bob Wallace's Thanksgiving trips, complete with turkey roll, cranberry sauce, and dressing. The group climbed Nopah-Mopah peak and arrived back at the cars, flashlights in hand. Bill Rausch had the headlights on so we could hone in on the camp in the dark. We were really tired. Later at the campfire, two boisterous beer drinkers crashed our quiet little dinner party. I definitely knew they weren't my type. Turned out it was Kai and his friend Jim.

Nonetheless, Kai and I became friends after going on several climbing trips together with John Flinn, Butch Suits, and various other PCS stalwarts of the 1980s. Kai and I both liked alpine climbing -- the combination of altitude, steep snow, and technical rock. The many climbs we went on together included four different routes on Shasta -- Green Butte Ridge, Hotlum-Bolam ridge, Sergeants Ridge, and the classic Hotlum Glacier route.

Kai and I then became rock climbing partners, and went on many trips to Yosemite Valley, Tuolumne Meadows, Tollhouse Rock, the Pinnacles, the Pie Shop, Lover's Leap, and even Red Rocks in Nevada. The Moon Goddess Arete on Temple Crag was memorable -- 14 pitches with some 5.8, and as Kai would say "hideous exposure."

I found Kai to be a very safe climber with an uncanny knack for finding the route. The boisterous side had quieted a bit. We stopped arguing over controversial topics such as "the school system in California," (my least favorite). We've been "together" as a couple for over five years now.

Joseph and Joana are crazy about Kai, and the four of us have gone on a number of adventurous family vacations -- Death Valley, Lava Tubes National Monument, Redwood National Park, Vancouver Island, and Alaska, although Joseph declares he's "not an outdoors kind of guy." Kai and I by ourselves have branched out to do some adventure backpacks along with our alpine climbs -- recent years have taken us to the Grand Canyon (twice), Escalante Canyon, Mt. Triumph in the North Cascades, Mt. Olympus, Arrow Peak, France, and we hope to go to the Sawtooths in Idaho for a delayed honeymoon.

So... to the PCS, "Thank you."