Despite the blanket of white, I still wasn’t motivated to get out and ski. That was until my friend Matt phoned me up Sunday night at 10pm to ask if I was up for a dawn patrol. I ho and I humed and mentally sorted through my pile of somewhat valid excuses but in the end I had a hunch that it would be good.

By way of review it was extra cold on Sunday and had snowed all day and this after a somewhat slightly warmer Saturday storm.  The skies were clearing meaning the cold temps would suck even more moisture out of the snowpack.  Conditions were pretty stable.  All thing pointed to it being good but I just didn’t know it would be that good! The alarm went off (Mission Impossible alarm on my iPhone) at 4:45am and I staggered out of the wrapper to make our 5:45 meet time at the Little Cottonwood Canyon Park and Ride.

Had it been a February morning the lot would be a frenzy of dawn patrollers meeting up and rallying for a few precious turns before the man had his way with them. Aside from a white shuttle van Matt was the only car there. A deserted Park and Ride was evidence of a Monday morning and lack of motivation. Upon reaching the upper reaches of LCC, we soon realized that on this Monday morning there were just a couple of people ahead of us. In fact, we’d put in skin tracks up Flagstaff, Days and Toledo, skiing until noon while only talking to 3 people on what is easily considered the most popular backcountry ski spot in all of Utah. Half way up the skin track on Flagstaff I realized that if it weren’t for the lone snowcat making its way up Chips at Snowbird the entire canyon would have been dead silent.

Yes, it was quiet, very quiet in the mountains today. Typing that indeed sounds odd, but in what some consider to be Wasangeles the drone of the lifts, snowmobiles, traffic, etc combine with what is typically enough skiers to make a slope look like a resort run by 11am, this day and the silence was an anomaly. I suspect that this was how it used to be when a crowd of skiers meant sharing Days Fork with one other guy, and the number of people you’d see in a day could be counted on both hands, or perhaps one.

In all we counted 8 people and miles of untracked lines that also are usually tracked out by mid morning. As for the snow?  Well, it was smooth, fast and as dry as mid February. What made it even better were the bluebird skies with views of the entire range and the Uintas to the east.  The calendar may have indicated that winter is done but Monday in the Wasatch I had a date with winter and it felt like old times…it felt good.

—images by Matt Rink

Pacific Crest Snowcats Background

Dave is the name of two of the owner/operator/cat driver/guides for Pacific Crest Snowcats, the only snowcat operation located in California’s Lake Tahoe region in the High Sierras. We showed up to the parking lot to find a few people lined up and getting prepped for the day’s trip. Our guides today would be both Daves and R.B., all seasoned guides from backgrounds such as being Alaskan heli-ski guides, ski patrollers at Alpine Meadows, and seasoned river guides.

The snow looked grim from the parking lot, a light powder dusting on top of a sun-baked crust…. yet our hopes had not been shattered. We had just driven 9.5 hours after an 8-hour workday to get here. We had to stay optimistic. So the crew starts showing up for the ride… 3 girls from Cali, Chamonix, and back east, a pro skier, 2 other photographers, and our crew of 3. We were ready.

After a short backcountry safety discussion and an explanation of the day’s plans, we piled into one of Pacific Crest’s snowcats. Nestled between world famous Squaw Valley USA and Sugar Bowl, is a vast expanse of terrain previously accessed via ski touring, only now we had the opportunity to rip it without hiking, thanks to Pacific Crest Snowcats. Operating on private land, the terrain is definitely not for the inexperienced. With chutes, cliffs, gladed trees, and wide-open faces… this place was jaw dropping. There is almost every compass aspect available for our feast as we unload at the top of a 40-minute ride to our first destination.

By the looks of it, we have 6-8 inches of fluff on a solid base. We do a short beacon search and head to the snow pit. The snowpack is just about as stable as they come, so we all ski down our first run. Come to find out, the snow turns out to be some of the most challenging we’ve ever skied. Punchy, and firm…but we all chuckle and make the best of it and load in the cat again. We decide to hit some sun lit runs in hopes that it’s a bit softer.

With most Cat skiing operations offering 500-800 vertical foot runs, Pacific Crest Snowcats offers up to 1200 and even a 1500-foot shot of snowcat accessed powder, so the choice of runs was a coin toss. Just at the top of our next ridge, the cat throws a shoe….but that wasn’t going to stop us. While the Daves took off to get a reserve cat, we threw our gear on our shoulders, and hiked a short distance to our perfect south-facing slope. We shoot tons of pictures and video of everyone, and hike back up for seconds.

After a successful session on a giant slope with a bunch of exposed goblin-like rocks, we head down to the cat. Exhausted and hungry, we catch a ride to our lunch destination and proceed to scarf down the great deli-style feast prepared by our guides. A bit of story telling ensued and after brief cool off, we head down our last run to the cat. Most of us were tired from our great session in the sunlight so we head for home base.

The Bottom Line on Pacific Crest Snowcats

The short number of runs did not disappoint any of us. The experience of the trip due to great terrain, company, and guides, left us all grinning ear to ear. The day was an official success. Pacific Crest gets an A+, and the day finished by the crew enjoying a brew at a local pub just a short distance away. Once again, stories came from every direction and laughs abounded. With the combination of terrain, guides, snowpack, and ease of having the Reno airport so close, Pacific Crest Snowcats is quite possibly the biggest little secret in California.

MORE INFO: Visit www.pacificcrestsnowcats.com to book a snowcat adventure

– Jason Beacham, FeedTheHabit.com Contributor
– Erik Seo, FeedTheHabit.com Photographer

From the early 1900’s until a mere 30 years ago, Thousand Peaks Ranch was indeed just that, a ranch for cattle and sheep with a thousand peaks. All that changed when in 1978 Ray Santa Maria explored this corner of paradise and dared to dream of a special place where powder hungry skiers would experience a slice of heaven. Thankfully for us his dream came true and today Park City Powder Cats & Heli-Ski is our ticket to access some of the finest powder skiing in North America.

The Man Loves Powder

We first meet up with Ray Santa Maria, owner/operations manager at a hotel lobby in Park City. After a brief introduction to Matt, our other guide for the day, and a light breakfast we pile into the van to head out to Thousand Peaks Ranch. As we approach the Uinta Mountains, home of Thousand Peaks Ranch and Park City Powder Cats, the sky is overcast with a pocket of light that shines down from above, beckoning us onward. Were the powder gods sending us a sign of what was to come? Unequivocally yes.

We arrive at the ranch cabin where we’re introduced to our cat driver and we review beacon safety while getting geared up. Moment’s later as the group loads the snowcat, we realize the sky has cleared, leaving the air crisp and cold. Another sign that we will be treated to some of Utah’s finest snow today, the greatest snow on earth.

The Goods – Powder Baby!

Our first view of Giant Steps bowl has all of us jaw dropped. Imagine the quintessential bowl, vast and expansive with steep flanks on each side. Double the size you’re imangining and you might begin to appreciate Giant Steps. Bryan and I look at each other and we know that today it’s on. Ray’s as anxious as a school boy in math class, waiting for recess, itching to get out of the cat and play. Even after 11 years of guiding and operating PC Powder Cats & Heli-Ski, it’s all about the powder for Ray….and it clearly shows. His enthusiasm and focus sets the tone for the day as 10,000 Maniacs sings “these are the days” over the sound system in the cat. Indeed this is the day for 10 powder maniacs with Ray leading the way.

Nearing the top of Giant Steps the snowcat forges forward, cutting a path on a narrow ridge just below the summit. Barely wide enough to fit the cat, we catch view of Warren Miller chutes to our right (so named after Warren himself filmed a crew of skiers ripping these 50 degree chutes) and some steep chutes of Giant Steps bowl to our left.

As we empty the cat, Ray mentions that we’re about the ski 2′ of new that has fallen in the past 48 hours. Standing atop Giant Steps he gives us the true welcome to PC Powdercats after which we drop in one by one. As I ease into the first few turns of ultra light solid knee deep powder, I find that I’m talking to myself. “Oh yea, this is the goods”, “Feelin’ sweet”. This continues for nearly 1700′ resulting in me grinning ear to ear. As a matter of fact, so is Ray.

Watching the others descend what could possibly be the run of their lives, we realize that group dynamics is going to come into play. One of our group, fresh from Indiana, is having a hard time adjusting to the powder. That’s one of the things about cat skiing or any type of guided ski experience for that matter. The group can only ski to the ability of the weakest link, and we had just found ours. What could have turned out to have banished us from Giant Steps to lesser slopes is averted after some quick tips on skiing powder are shared with our flat land brother.

Round two is just as good as the first. It’s unbelievable that places like this exist and I get to ski fresh lines on it. Ray has lead us to the goods, but he’s quick to mention that this is what it’s always like out here. I’m beginning to realize that a guide’s enthusiasm can really set the tone for a great trip.

Unlike most cat operations in the U.S., Park City Powder Cats & Heli Ski can deliver the vert. 1700′ per run in Giant Steps is leaps and bounds ahead of the typical 700-900′ slopes you’ll find with most cat operators. The area we are skiing in is defined by above treeline open powder slopes. It reminds me of Heli Skiing in the Caribous of Central British Columbia. Big slopes, lots of room to turn and nothing but peak after peak as far as you can see.

A change in scenery leads us to Little Steps, a shorter shot just to the east of Big Steps. Dropping into Little Steps, we realize the wind has stacked the snow on this lee side of the ridge. Deep powder turns, the kind you dream about, one after another all the way down to the pick up point where our transport to the goods awaits. With each lap we make on Little Steps yields unbelievable powder. The amazing thing was that for miles around these are the only tracks we can see.

By now the group was starting to mesh together quite well. We’ve got a real good mix of both skiers and snowboarders from all sides of the U.S. New Jersey, Indiana, Massachusets, Utah and California are represented. Interestingly enough for the snowboarders, none of our drop off sites have required the dreaded traverse or hiking on thier part. PC Powder Cats is certainly a “snowboard friendly” operation as witnessed by the Quiksilver and Salty Peaks stickers on the cat.

After having our fill on Little Steps it was decided that we’d refill our energy stores with a fine lunch provided by Ray and the crew. Hot chicken noodle soup, deli style sandwiches, beverages and frisbee sized cookies all hit the spot. One of the most beautiful lunch spots I’ve enjoyed as we soaked in the sun while observing our handiwork on Little Steps.

A Change of Scenery

Thinking that we’d stick to the big bowls for the rest of the afternoon, our guides had something else in store for us. Descending into South Ham via lower Little Steps, we set our sights on some west facing ridges that start above treeline and descend through football field sized slots in the aspens, the same aspens we’d driven through earlier in the morning. With the loss in elevation, from 11,000′+ at Giant and Little Steps to 9000′ here in South Ham, we could have easily gotten into some inferior snow conditions. Matt and Ray would not let us down as we slipped into some tremendously light snow on west/northwest facing aspects.

The west facing slopes had us looking off into the distance at the back of the Wasatch. I wondered what conditions were like for all those folks skiing the many resorts that dot the central Wasatch. I’m sure they were oblivious to the fact that a mere 30 miles to the east was the shangri la of powder skiing. In fact, we’d later find out that while we were enjoying a light breeze and phenomenal snow conditions here in the Unitas, the ridges and bowls of the Wasatch were experiencing stout winds and wind packed powder conditions. Reminded me of Robert Frost, “…and I chose the road less traveled and it has made all the difference.”

As we spun our last lap in paradise, and loaded up for the cat ride back to the cabin, I had to stop and take one last glimpse around, to soak in the magnitude of the area. I made mental notes of slopes I have yet to ski that are calling my name. With over 30 feet of snow this year, they could be calling my name well into the month of May.

Every snowcat operation we’ve visited this year has had highlights or things that I’ll remember well, but of this I am certain: the images of the 1000 peaks and beyond will forever be with me. The tops of the Uinta Mountain peaks, where the powder is light and deep, the sky is extra blue there’s a snow cat and a smiling Ray Santa Maria that awaits. We hope they don’t have to wait too long for you.

More Info: Visit PCCats.com

[quicktime]http://www.feedthehabit.com/videos/ski/powderPillows.mov[/quicktime]

By 2:30 we were all spent, but I decided to take my last run solo under Golden Eagle. When’s the last time you skied an open run at 2:30 pm on the Saturday after Christmas and had stretches of 8 turns without crossing a track?? You might call it isolation…I call it one of the days you dream of. This pic of Kendall’s “o-face” will give you the idea. This was directly under the lift at 10 in the morning on Saturday…and still untracked. Unbelievable.

Our first final was Friday. The big dump was Friday. I buttonholed Mike Buckley in the hall next to his locker to see what his plans were. He’s a walking barometer, and he gave me the low-down on all the freezing level and snowfall predicted for Steven’s Pass, Baker, Crystal, and Alpental. They were all getting blessed, but the accessibility of Alpental finally won out. Early Friday morning we headed out for the pass, quizzing each other on our notes in the car, and completely intent on making it back in time for the final. When we got up there and saw that the backcountry gate was open, our good intentions wavered…

We headed straight for chair 2, the upper lift, also known as Edelweiss. That lift makes you feel like you have truly been transported to the Alps — not that I’ve ever had the chance to actually ski the Alps. The lift took us up along the rocky ridge on the East side of a large bowl with chutes and cliffs everywhere. It was still dumping. People who had made it up just before us were now bombing it right under the lift, choking on chest-deep drifts. It was a line that was NEVER untracked, but this morning it was — if for only a few minutes.

Two-thirds of the way up the lift there was some noise and yells, and all of a sudden a crazy pinhead with monster speed dropped a 40-foot air straight to his butt, right under the lift. The yells echoed like Austrian yodels, and the whole place degenerated into a “hero cliff huck” session. Soft landings and pretty good vis (considering that it was DUMPING) made you not even care where you landed. Except for Buckley almost swiping some boo that was stuck in his landing zone, everyone came out okay.

Luckily we met up with Buckley’s buddies, Tom and Matty, after two runs. We weren’t about to wait for anyone. We beelined it out the bc gate and took the Great Scott Traverse for about 10 minutes before stopping (see http://www.alpental.com/2-h.htm). About halfway between Chip’s and Corey’s Couliors we dropped down above Knoll 2. Tom and Matty hit the gully between Knolls 2 and 3, but Mike and I rode the skier’s-left ridge of 2 until Billington’s Ramp.

It was incredible. The report had said 6 inches of fresh, but on the ridge we were sometimes hitting it up to our chests. The snow was completely blower and there wasn’t anyone else in sight. We finally hopped over a small drop to get down into the gully and were just beaming from ear-to-ear! It was one of those days when everywhere is good. We rode the trees until the exit traverse, then hopped back on the lift for more. By the time we got back up to the top the storm had filled in our previous tracks, and we had fresh all over again.

We managed to get in 3 or 4 backcountry runs like that before we finally convinced ourselves we had to leave to take the final. We didn’t know if we would actually make it in time, but we figured we had to give it the ol’ college try. We barely walked in just as Zaki (our well-dressed, silver-haired, 80-something professor) was handing out the final. As usual, the old European man was dressed to the teeth in Italian leathers and expensive slacks. We had helmet-head, snow clogs and hoodies on. He grinned that wide, toothy grin that won him the nickname “The Eagle.” He knew where we had been. He was a kid, once…during World War II. The Eagle was proud and we aced the test. Talk about good karma. I think I’m starting to like finals week.

What’s better than backcountry powder shared with a couple of good friends? Skiing with your buddies in the trees, sharing a great line on an open slope and watching your mates pop off bumps into the pow is a great way to spend a day. Now, if that makes you smile, think about expanding it to 12 good friends. Think about a day of good powder and good runs shared with the 12 friends you would most like to spend time with. Then expand the thought to three of four days in succession.

If it seems like a wild dream, it’s not. Snowcat skiers are doing it every year. Many snowcat operators will provide a discount to the organizer of a group of 12. Assemble your own group to share its own cat and guides and determine the pace of each day’s skiing. The cat rides back up the mountain become almost as much fun as the runs down, filled with the old lies and jokes and stories that you all enjoy sharing. Evenings in the lodge in the bar playing pool or darts for “shots” or soaking in the hot tub just continue the fun of the day. The photos found at Favorite Chatter Creek photos were taken by members of a group of old friends who go cat skiing together every year. By the way, if you don’t know all about it, check out the cat skiing articles at cat skiing articles.

Most, but not all, cat skiing operators encourage groups and group organizers. At least two operators in BC offer no particular incentive to group leaders, but point out the advantage to having ski companions that know one another and are all compatible skiers. However, at least three BC operators provide group organizers a free seat and one operator offers two free seats (take 12 people, pay for 10). Other operators offer a discount ranging from $1200 per day, to $1500 for a 4-day tour. Organizers shopping for a cat skiing tour should consider group discounts last, after selecting a short list of operators having terrain and skiing conditions that best suits their group’s needs.

Organizing a group is no cakewalk. The group organizer is the sole point of contact with the company. The group organizer collects and accounts for all funds, makes lump payments on behalf of the group, distributes company literature, collects client information and submits it to the company. Above all, the organizer ensures that group members understand the tour dates, transportation arrangements, meeting times and special conditions like baggage restrictions or clothing needed for the trip in to a remote lodge.

Finally, the organizer handles last minute changes. People get sick or have emergencies or “things” happen at work and substitutes have to be arranged. Snowstorms can require last-minute telephone calls to the group to change travel plans, as described in the article, “Getting to Chatter Creek:Go Early and Get There”.

You may have known your buddies for years, but you don’t really understand them until you try to organize their ski trip. As one cat ski operator noted, “It’s like herding cats”. One or two email messages is not enough to convey critical dates and other information. There is always someone who forgets or is confused or loses forms or is always late with payments.

Regular reminders and specific confirmation is needed to ensure that people really do understand what they need to know, and that critical dates and times really have been recorded in next year’s calendar, and not this year’s. If the meeting point is in a different time zone, alarm bells have to be rung regularly, or people will forget the time shift. People need reminding that there is a day of travel before and after the dates of the tour. If tour members are married, it’s a good idea to ensure their wives know “the drill”.

Different organizers do different things with their discount. Merle McKnight, manager of Chatter Creek, in Golden recommends, “Put it in your pocket, you’ve earned it!” Some organizers do just that. Others share the discount with the group members, giving everyone a small discount. One organizer rents a bus to take his group from Calgary to Golden, where his cat skiing tour starts. That tour really starts and ends in Calgary and everything in between is a blur. The author tends to be a sharer, but after years of organizing groups, my enthusiasm for sharing is waning.

Whatever frustrations a group organizer may bear, they fall right away on that first run of the annual tour, as the organizer watches his mates go charging down the hill, with whoops and hollers and powder snow flying. The grins on your friends’ faces make it all worthwhile!

Suggested Snowcat Operations

Chatter Creek Snowcat Skiing – Golden, BC
Park City Powdercats – Park City, UT
Steamboat Powdercats – Steamboat, CO

In the second week of May, the ‘Bird reports more snow than the entire month of January. While snaking through the initial tram pen, a few of us lucky enough to make the first ascent of the day raise our poles in celebration- taunting those who will have to wait 10 minutes for blue tram to arrive while we get first tracks.

“Okay everybody, quiet down. I’ve got something important to say,” shouts the tram op. “Now that I’ve got your attention- you have no idea how SICK it is up top. There is so much snow.” The receptive red tram erupts. Then a short burst of “Surfer Bird” to get everyone fired up blasts over the sound system. The crowd is now singing along to the tune of “The Bird is the word.” Welcome to Spring skiing at the ‘Bird.

An epic day like no other finds an endless prescription of May face-shots. While ski patrol attempts to open up the Tower 4 backcountry gate, 125 elated skiers and riders drop into the cloudy abyss toward Little Cloud. Gate access to ‘Old Ladies Slide’ allows some early morning deep powder turns. The Cirque eventually opens up to what can only be described as ‘controlled mayhem.’ The Upper Cirque and Silver Fox area were torched. It looked like the beginning of the Boston Marathon.

Dropping into Hanging Bowl, a well-guarded secret to locals for its extensive wind loading and lack of sunshine, a slough slide rips out from above. Next thing I know I’m sent tumbling over a set of cliffs that I was originally setting up for. Fortunately, the slough was big enough to keep me in motion and I skied out unharmed. A rush of adrenaline had hit me and I managed to tear off some of my most impressive, hard charging turns of the day. I felt lucky that I knew the terrain, but even luckier to be riding this sweet May powder.

Impressive enough for this day was the Tram itself. Normally, during spring time operations they depart every 15-20 minutes. Today, those boats were cranked to lock’n load. By 10:30 a.m. (and courtesy of a front page spread in the Salt Lake Tribune) word had gotten out. Something epic was happening in Little Cottonwood Canyon.

Cars arrived by the hundreds and before any one could say “May Powder” the tram line was looped through the entire maze out across the plaza. Locals agreed that it could have quite possibly been the longest tram wait in 25 years. Even though the line appeared massive, skiers and riders gathered patiently to await their next run. It’s not often that you get a chance to ride powder this deep and late in the season.

For the past week, a regional delegation of Powder maggots were found staking their claim to Snowbird’s many stashes. Message postings on the chat board involved showing off the many technical lines that were conquered, all the while revealing the consistent winter conditions that were permeating.

Today, people with names like Powstash, Harpo, Powhore, and Butters joined me on a search to find some creamy winter pow along Restaurant Row- a collection of chutes above the Mid-Gad restaurant. Dropping in, we were greeted with thigh-deep powder among a few sparse trees. Visibility had been an issue throughout the day, but deep powder in tight places made this area an ideal choice. As we dove into a secret untouched stash of Utah’s finest, Powstash was chanting, “I love you, man” while choking in the white room the whole way down to the tram base. I just hope his wife doesn’t stay jealous. As I told my ex-girlfriend once on a powder day when she asked the unimaginable, “Who do you love more, Snowbird or me?” Well, let’s just my Rossi Bandit XXX’s are now my closest companion.

Unsung and untouched, the lower Gad Valley remained distant. With lifts closed and shuttle bus operations ceased for the season, this area was off the radar to most people. When we arrived at the pocket chute ‘Get Serious’ we discovered an untracked paradise. Large cliff hucks laid in wait with oodles of fresh powder.

Butters dropped in and iced a speedy straight line past the rock garden below. Powstash and I opted for a different line toward the left.’ I managed to control my excitement after spotting a huge ‘diving board. I yelled down to see if this jetting rock band was a possibility and with a resounding yes, I could sense the feeling from Powstash that he had missed something special

As my edges released their grip, I felt myself hurtling through the air. I felt butterflies leaping through my stomach as I spotted my landing pad. Suddenly, the feeling was over as I sunk to my waist in a creamy Northwest style helping of powder. Powstash wasn’t satisfied with his role as the spectator so we meandered back on our last run of the day so he could drop another, larger variation off that same cliff band. Of course, he stuck it like a pro.

We skied off into the distance like cowboys into the sunset from a timeless Western. Satisfied with the crop we had bagged today, we knew that we’d be talking about this day for years to come.

More Info: Visit Snowbird.com

Unfortunately–because of the meager Utah snowpack and overcrowded resorts, I haven’t felt the true soul of skiing much this season. In fact, this season had really bummed me out until a well-deserved road trip that Kendall Card and I took to the beautiful San Juan Mountains of Southwestern Colorado. Our destination, a small, high-altitude town called Silverton.

Silverton Mountain is a single lift operation that runs very similar to snowcat skiing outfits. You are lead by a guide in groups of eight skiers. Avalanche gear is required, but can be rented at the base. There are no base facilities, just a beer tent and a lift–all you need to ski the best runs of your life.

Situated at 9300-feet, Silverton is a quaint old mining town nestled between Red Mountain Pass at over 11,200-feet and Molas Pass at over 10,500-feet. Access to Silverton can get shut off at a moments notice by either avalanche or heavy snowfall. We happened to hit Silverton right in the middle of the best storm of the season and caught a glimpse of what the true soul of skiing is.

Wednesday, February 26

We leave the Salt Lake area after work, hoping to make it to at least Ouray, CO before we crashed for the evening. En route to Grand Junction, CO, we exchange phone calls with a POWDER Maggot who was making the pilgrimage to Silverton as well. While the cell phones worked, I frantically called motels in both Ouray and Silverton to determine if Red Mountain Pass was open or closed–it seems every motel in the area is hurting for your business during the winter months.

I call a Ouray motel and talk to the owner, who assures me that the pass is closed, so we’d better stay in Ouray. I then call a motel in Silverton and get the opposite response, “Hell, Red Mountain Pass sure is open… c’mon up. We’ve got one last room available!”

Who do we believe? Since neither Kendall nor I had been to the area ever, we just kept on driving–waiting for fatigue or CDOT to stop us dead in our tracks.

We made it to Ouray and kept driving. Ahh… Red Mountain Pass was open, so we continued and made it to Silverton. Our destination was the Triangle Motel where Stan will treat you to one of the cleanest rooms in town.

We quickly settled in for a night’s rest. Kendall was out like a light, but I tossed and turned–dreaming of bottomless pow.

Thursday, February 27

We awoke to hungry stomachs and a few inches of freshies. After a quick drive up the main drag, we settled on a small restaurant, Tiki’s, for a hearty breakfast. We were informed later that Tiki’s is the best breakfast in town and after three days, we definitely agreed.

Finally… Silverton Mountain. We arrived at the parking lot and quickly geared up for the day, then headed up to the tent to sign waivers and hear the safety information. We then headed to the bottom of the lift where we would be placed in groups of eight people with our guide. This day, our guide would be Jenny (co-owner of Silverton Mountain).

As we ride up the lift, Kendall and I are in complete awe of the spectacular terrain all around us. 14,000-foot peaks stretch to the clouds in all directions–with huge bowls, endless glades and monstrous cliff-bands, the San Juan Mountains don’t mess around!

Arriving at the top of the lift, we re-group for a quick bootpack towards a run called “4 Snag” which funnels into “Colorado”. It’s tough starting the day at the top of a 2000-foot vertical slope that’s steeper than anything inbounds at your local resort and without any warmup whatsoever. I drop in, hit a hardpack traverse and pre-release out of my binding. Geezzz… not the best way to start the day.

I ski the rest of the run with caution, but get out of it feeling pretty good. We hustle into a paddy wagon and are hauled back to the base area where it starts all over again.

Our next run would be down a treeless bowl that quickly chokes out, then opens up to an apron near the bottom. The run is called “Raff,” and it would offer the best turns thus far.

Next up was “Dolores.” This run starts with fairly well-spaced trees down a steep avalanche path, then funnels down to about a 50-foot wide gully before taking you back to the base of the lift. This run would turn out to be some of the best tree skiing of the trip.

After the fabled trees of “Dolores,” we were in for a real treat and quite possibly the best single run of the trip–”Waterfall.” This run starts with a 1000-foot bowl of untracked and steep POWDER! We skied this line one at a time and we all got to savor each other’s runs before or after our own. All I can remember is turn after turn of bottomless pow only to realize that there was still a few hundred feet left to ski. This is what we came here for!

After all the gluttony, we made it back to town and stuffed ourselves silly at a hip Italian restaurant called Pasta la Vista–home of the best Italian food and nicest people around.

Friday, February 28

We started the day in a familiar way–breakfast at Tiki’s, then off to the hill. Today, we can skip the waivers and safety instructions and head straight for the lift. Our guide would be John. He would lead us to the goods.

It would snow most of the day, so we would be confined to the familiar tree-lined runs we’d skied the day before. But with all the new snow, everything had filled in nicely and we were amped to be up again.

This time, our first run would be “Riff” with its open face that quickly narrows down to a choke, then a large, powder-filled apron at the bottom–what a perfect run to start the day!

Our next run would make everyone jealous as we were the first to track out the short, treeless runs just under the top of the lift. We were spooning and loving it! After the untracked pow at the top, we would traverse into some great tree runs, then back to the base.

On tap next was “Dolores,” but this time we skied the trees at the far skier’s left. Here, we discovered the fattest pow of the entire trip with widely-spaced pines and untouched powder for hundreds of feet. Oh yeah… it doesn’t get much better than this.

We rounded out the day with another run down “4 Snag,” then an encore performance of “Dolores.”

After 5 runs and just over 10,300 vertical feet, we were spent. This mountain had delivered the goods on every run. Every run boasted terrain that makes local resorts like Snowbird and Alta pale in comparison. This mountain has soul. This mountain has an attitude and it will kick you in the butt and slap you upside the head with its steep, relentless terrain.

It continued dumping snow like a nuclear blizzard all afternoon and into the evening. We returned to town in near whiteout conditions only to hear that Red Mountain Pass (our only way out) was closed and may not open until morning. We decided that staying in Silverton for another night was our only option, so we bought a cheap motel room then headed to Pasta la Vista once again for some Italian gluttony.

Saturday, March 1

We awake to bluebird skies, spectacular views and new snow everywhere. Our destination for the day would be Telluride Resort.

After slowly making our way over Red Mountain Pass, we make our way to Telluride by noon and ski the rest of the afternoon. Honestly, Telluride felt like Deer Valley, but with killer terrain. It’s definitely a great hill with challenging terrain, but it was the epitome of what Silverton Mountain was trying not to become. Don’t get me wrong… Telluride is a great hill, but skiing there after two soul-filled days at Silverton Mountain just left something to be desired.

Skiing provides energy for the soul. It’s more than high-speed lifts, slopeside latte’s and posh lodges–it’s about spending time in nature, skiing powder and hanging out with good friends. Silverton Mountain is the soul of skiing.