Died and gone to Heavenly; Forget Europe. Lake Tahoe in America's

BY THE time we get to Truckee still with the top down and our big silly earflap ski hats on, we're less Thelma and Louise and more Dumb and Dumber. It's absolutely freezing and pitch black as we pull up in front of what appears to be Boo Radley's house at the north end of Lake Tahoe.

Although the Richardson House - a big imposing clapboard B&B - looks a bit creepy and sounds like something straight out of Scooby Doo, inside it's a centrally heated Victorian-style haven for knackered skiers who want nothing but a hot bath and a big comfy bed. And here you get it in style.

But because it's dark, we haven't managed to see Lake Tahoe itself, and we're impatient because because we know this is Frank Sinatra/ Godfather/mob territory and we can't wait to see the renowned playground of hoodlums and playboys. Pen goes off to bed while I stay downstairs and pick a video from the large collection in the drawing room. I choose An Affair To Remember through which I manage to fall asleep and wake up just in time to have a good cry as Deborah Kerr explains to Cary Grant why she couldn't meet him at the top of the Empire State Building. Love that movie.

Next morning we're off to Squaw Valley, the first of the three Lake Tahoe resorts we'll be skiing this week. Squaw is a classy, old- school ski resort, home to the 1960 Winter Olympics when you got sewn into your boots and ladies wore jumpers with snowflakes on them and looked like Jane Russell. Squaw Valley offers 4000 acres of skiing, six mountain peaks, snowboard parks, express lifts and a cable car that will give you the heebie-jeebies if you tend to suffer from vertigo (but then you wouldn't be a skier would you?).

It's early in the season and there's just enough snow to enjoy ourselves up top. Like any of the slopes around Lake Tahoe, the views are amazing. It's also extremely hot and people are taking advantage of the viewing/sunbathing deck at the amusingly named High Camp station.

Of course there's an almighty dump of snow just after we leave, but for now there's just enough snow for a few of the runs to be open. But what there is, is wide, smooth and tree-lined in that perfect-straight-out-of-a brochure kind of a way. And being Scottish we have about four layers of clothing too many and are pink-faced and puffing in a decidedly imperfect not straight-out-of-a-brochure kind of a way. But it's great just to be back on snow and remember just why we love skiing so much.

Well actually, Pennie is not having a good time having discovered that her one-time talent for snowploughing and well-developed sense of humour have deserted her. The last I see of her as I sail off down a particularly pleasing slope, she is yelling at herself in frustration and frightening the rest of the beginners in her class.

Later when we meet up at the Plumpjack Cafe (great name) for a well-deserved dinner she is calm, having soothed herself with a couple of stiff bloody Marys. We get talking to some friendly locals who tell us some amazing Spoofer McGraw-type tales about the 1645- foot deep lake.

Like the fact that because the water is so cold, bodies sink immediately to the bottom because their gases freeze. And due to its popularity with mafia types (part of the Godfather was filmed here), besides a few hoodlums in concrete slippers, one-time teamster leader Jimmy Hoffa is supposedly in there too. And an elephant. The story goes that a local eccentric who built a huge house on the shore complete with caves, underground passages and exotic animals in the grounds, sailed one across the lake during a storm. The boat sank and the poor elephant went down with the ship and is there still, perfectly preserved.

"You know," says one local, "Jacques Cousteau once said that the world is not ready to see what's in that lake." Add to the mix that Lake Tahoe is an ancient burial ground for the native Americans indigenous to the area and it sounds like one hell of a party down there. We're gobsmacked, then delighted to be told that just a few miles away is Cal Neva, Frank Sinatra's old joint where he brought all his Rat Pack and movie-star friends to let their hair down in the early Sixties. We resolve to get there and look up a few ghosts.

Back at the Richardson House I'm a little disconcerted to learn that it too has its very own ghost and I spend a sleepless (needless as it turns out) night in my big antique bed spooking myself out. Next morning dawns big and blue and this time we're off to Northstar, a resort a few miles south on the lake.

Truly this is America, for nothing is too much trouble as we get our boots and equipment. Everything is brand spanking new; not smelly, not pinching, not so old it's held together with straps. I march up to the gondola in my excellent new four-buckle boots and can't wait to get started.

Pennie's a little more reticent after her disappointing start, but the sun is shining and my selfish ski gene kicks in. I leave her in the company of a sweet-looking Canadian ski instructor and head off for the top of the mountain. Northstar is amazingly beautiful and has a nice, friendly laid-back feel which makes it popular with snowboarders. In fact, its brochure says: "Mr Big Ego and Mrs Matching Outfit never make it out this way." which is just as well, because I've never liked them, plus my outfit is cobbled together from ski gear I've collected since I was 14 years old.

For so little snow (compared to what they have, say, a week later) the runs are expertly groomed with soft snow which makes for good, easy turns. My confidence grows and I manage to keep my J-Lo tucked in nice and neat most of the time. But I am unprepared for the scenery at the top. From time to time as a gap in the trees appears I catch sight of this glistening stretch of cobalt blue water below. The combination of sharp mountain air, the adrenalin rush and the views just make your spirits soar. I heart Lake Tahoe. Later I find Pennie grinning over a beer with her Canadian guy. She's got her snowplough mojo back and she's happy.

To celebrate we drive (with the top down of course) playing classic Sinatra to Cal Neva, Frank's old place, and marvel at the atmosphere inside. We find his celebrity showbar room, have a martini in Dean Martin's seat at the bar, peek through the windows of Marilyn Monroe's chalet, check out the casino and stand on the California- Nevada state line by the swimming pool and drink in the magic of it all. You can almost hear Frankie crooning.

Our final resort, Heavenly, the biggest and baddest of them all, has a mini Las Vegas with a stripful of casinos including its own Caesar's - as in Palace. Heavenly covers 4800 acres of terrain across two states, boasts the highest elevation of all the Tahoe resorts at 10,067 feet and has the longest descent on the West Coast at 5.5 miles and an average annual snowfall of 30 feet. I'm sorry, but beat that, Europe. A high-speed gondola zooms you to the top where once again you need half an hour just to drink in the jaw-dropping vista before you. And from here you get the double whammy of snow and lake on one side and desert on the other, all the way over to Reno, divorce capital of America.

Heavenly is truly the place for skiers and boarders of all abilities. While all the Tahoe resorts cater generously for beginners and intermediates, hard-core boarders and skiers keen to be challenged will find that Heavenly does exactly what it says on the tin. There are dozens of double black diamond runs which would give Herman Maier a run for his money. Of course, I'm not quite there yet, but Bob, my endlessly patient one-to-one instructor, gives me a decent six and a half out of ten for my efforts, and believe me, I'm happy. This place is getting to be a habit with meu

NEED TO KNOW How to get there

KLM (0870 5074074) flies from Glasgow to San Francisco via Amsterdam for (pounds) 389 including one week's Alamo car hire from January to March which is a good deal. For more information or reservations try travel4less on 0207 400 7073. Word of warning: secure your luggage. On our return to Glasgow we discovered several items had been stolen from our late-delivered bags.

Where to stay Rooms (with breakfast) at The Richardson House, Truckee start at $100 per night. At Heavenly try the Lakeland Village Beach & Mountain resort where you can rent a condo. Prices vary depending on time of season. Or you can go for the Horizon Casino Resort where rooms start at $119 per night.

Further information www.visitcalifornia.com; www.squaw.com; www.northstarattahoe.com; skiheavenly.com; www.richardsonhouse.com; www.lakeland-village. com; www.horizoncasino.com; www.plumpjack.com

Copyright 2002 SMG Sunday Newspapers Ltd.
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