It starts the same way every year. You squeeze into a car with way too much stuff, the trunk barely closes, and there are six long hours of central California ahead of you. By the time you hit Bakersfield, the snacks are already half gone and someone’s asking if we’re even close. The aux is a constant rotation, an amalgamation of everyone’s music taste and whatever random thought leads to the next song. It somehow jumps from nostalgic high school bangers to Broadway hits to TikTok songs no one wants to admit they like and back again. It shouldn’t work, but it always kind of does.

This is just the beginning of a typical Page House ski trip to Mammoth Mountain.

I’ve made this drive four years in a row and every time with new car playlists, different people, and some repeat gear-forgetting disasters. But every trip brought the same kind of energy. And this year, for my last one, I decided I was going to make the most of it.

We arrived late at night. The cabins were glowing, the snow was quiet, and the stars were ridiculous. The kind of clear, frozen night that makes you stop for a second before dragging your bags inside. Everything felt still in the best way, like we had stepped into another little world just for the weekend.

I woke up to sunlight pouring in through the windows, fresh snow outside, and the sound of someone downstairs already making breakfast. First mission of the day? Rick’s Sport Center. By 8am, a crowd of Pageboys were already lined up to rent skis and boards, filling out forms, and trying to walk in snow boots. It’s messy, efficient, and a tradition at this point.

I decided to snowboard and I’m still firmly on beginner mode as this is my second time ever. But something about cruising down the long green runs, surrounded by friends also figuring it out, is so much fun. I definitely wiped out more than once (my poor side), but no one’s keeping score out there.

By the time we got back to the cabin, my entire body was done. We made dinner, changed into swimsuits, and soaked in the hot tub until 2am. It was one of those nights where no one wants to get out of the water, even though it’s freezing, and the conversations just keep going.

The next morning, we took a walk to Convict Lake. It’s only about fifteen minutes from the cabins, but I hadn’t been since my first year. And it was absolutely worth it. The trail was quiet, the lake was frozen, and the mountains looked unreal. One of those moments where you just stop and think, wow, this is actually real.

A few hours later, calm turned into chaos. We went tubing at Mammoth’s resort and turned it into a full-on event. Chains of people holding onto ankles, asking to be spun as fast as humanly possible, crashing into each other, and laughing the entire time. Even the line was fun. We started racing around using the tubes to slide across the snow like idiots. It was ridiculous and easily one of my favourite parts of the whole trip.

After tubing, we stopped at a place called Noodly in town. I got a huge bowl of pho, and it was exactly what my soul and sore legs needed. Hot, comforting, delicious, and great for my Beli account!

After devouring that massive bowl of pho, I was put into a food coma and laid down for a short nap that turned into a full reboot. After waking up and hanging out with friends, we played games, snacked, and just chilled, enjoying my last ski trip with Page house.

Later that night, just as I was heading to bed, someone convinced me to go out to the lake again. At night. In the freezing cold. And honestly, I’m glad they did. We walked out in the dark, completely bundled up, and the stars looked fake. It was so clear and bright you could see everything. We barely said anything. Just stood there and took it in. I was frozen, but it was worth it.

The next morning, before heading back, we made one last stop at a crepe food truck. Yes, a crepe truck. Huge win. After that, we were back in the cars and headed south. Sore, sleepy, and very happy.

This trip means a lot to me. It always has. But this time felt different. It was my last one, and it hit harder. Page ski trip isn’t just about the snow or the cabins. It’s the people. The late-night hot tubs. The chaotic tubing runs. The bundling up with friends to stay warm. The pho that then warms you up. The stars that remind you how big everything is. And the crepes, of course.

If you ever get the chance to go, go. Even if you don’t ski. Especially if you don’t ski. You’ll learn. You’ll fall. You’ll laugh. You’ll make memories you’ll think about long after Caltech.