In the television of your mind, you can envision yourself floating through pockets of untracked powder tucked next to the trees or at the end of long traverses that weed out the weak. It’s not the top-to-bottom powder fields that dominate your dreams, but it’s pretty darn good.

This last Saturday at Snowbird Resort, I was busy showing some family members around the mountain, then ended up teaching another family member who had never skied before–that’s what happens when you’re a former ski instructor.  When I found out that he had never skied before, the day’s plans instantly changed and I went from pow-seeker to teacher.  There’s nothing worse than a first-timer having an awful experience on the hill. And, unfortunately, I’ve heard of too many horror stories from people who hadn’t skied in 20-30 years because their first experiences were so bad.

Once my PSIA duties were completed, I was back on powder duty, but the winds had picked up which forced the closure of Mineral Basin and Little Cloud lifts. Now, many of the lines I wanted to ski were off limits. So, again, I adapted and made the best of it with the family–that was until the last run of the day.

Everyone who couldn’t hold their own had dropped off and was back at the car, but I had one last run in my blood. I would let my nose seek out the stashes in the lower half of Gad Chutes.  This area hadn’t been extensively tracked out due to the lift closures and tram delays, so I was banking on some hidden treasures.

Ducking in as high as possible, I zig-zagged my way through the leftover untracked snow along the treelines, then continued traversing into the lower third of Barry Barry Steep. Yeah it was pretty cut up and the pockets of untracked were hit-and-miss, but it sure beat cruising the groomers anyday.

The next time you call last run, don’t just opt for the groomer to the base, let your powder senses lead you into the trees or steeps and you just might find some untracked goodies or still stoke-worthy sloppies. With as much terrain as Snowbird offers, there’s no doubt you’ll find some just around the corner.

More Info: Visit Snowbird.com

After all was said and done, the Wasatch Mountains in Utah got pummeled! Enough to go from 0-inch base to 50-inch base in 3 days!

Little Cottonwood Canyon, home to Alta and Snowbird ended the storm with 50-inches of new… and it’s still coming down!

All-in-all, Utah has been hurting for snow, with this being one of the latest opening days of skiing in recent past.

The Canyons Resort in Park City was our destination of choice for opening day 2001. Couch-surfing at the Card Hotel near the base of The Canyons Resort, I was able to sleep in and still be one of the first on the hill. A quick stop in the season pass office and I’m set for a season of skiing.

After a couple of warmup laps on the groomers, with pow-seeking sessions here and there, I dip into The Pines where leftovers reigned supreme. I’m not talking about the turkey and mashed potatoes in your fridge… this was over a foot of freshies, just barely tracked out. After a couple of runs in The Pines, I meet up with my trusted cohort, Kendall Card.

Skiing with the K-man means one thing… pow stashes beware! We bombed a few untracked lines, then called it quits. Opening day jitters are over.

Now I have two core-shots, a blackened big toe and these pics to show for it. Oh yeah, not to mention the HUGE smile on my face!

Winter has arrived in the Wasatch Mountains of Utah. Come, enjoy the bounty!

Monday and Tuesday: The Canyons

Monday and Tuesday were spent at The Canyons, my home hill. I was farming stashes in the trees off Peak 5 both days. It appeared that winter had returned, in full force. Locals were coming out of the woodwork. People who had put up thier sticks and boards were quickly repenting and heading for the lifts.

Wednesday: Alta

Wednesday was a pilgrimage to Alta, powder capital of the free world. Actually, I think it is powder capital of the whole world. My ski partner Bryan and I did a couple laps each on Wildcat and The Germ and then like homing pigeons, zeroed in on Supreme. Heavy snowing and poor visibility deemed it necessary to seek the trees and rocks of Supreme.

Then he said in a matter of fact way which I’ll never forget, “You may not believe this but people go nuts about days like today.” I wanted to tell that little girl that indeed it was true. People, yes people just like me, go nuts about days like today.

Just prior to heading to Supreme, we stopped at Watson’s so Bryan could de-fog the goggles. I was leaning on my poles outside just watching people come and go. One little girl and her dad skied up to the hut and took off thier skis. It was obvious that the daughter was not having the best day of her life. Frustrated and betwixt by all the new and falling snow, she desperately explained to her dad that she couldn’t turn in “all this powder” and that it was “too hard.” Her dad bent down and in a soft and fatherly voice said, “Honey, I know it’s hard but just keep at it and you’ll get it. You’ll even learn to love it.”

Then he said in a matter of fact way which I’ll never forget, “You may not believe this but people go nuts about days like today.” I wanted to tell that little girl that indeed it was true. People, yes people just like me, go nuts about days like today.

Bryan emerged and we were off to Supreme, but the words of a father would linger with me for the days to come.Lap after lap, we dove down the various chutes off the Supreme traverse. On the lift we’d spy lines and row-sham-bo over which one to take next. It got silly enough that we were planning two, even three runs in advance. With zero lift lines, our runs stacked up faster than I’ve ever had them stack up on Supreme. The knee to thigh deep pow turned me into a cliff seeking missile. I was jumping almost everything in site. Toward the end of our day we were stoked to get a couple runs in with two of Alta’s finest men in red who showed us right where the goods were, which weren’t always this side of the ropes. 20,000+ vert and 19 runs, including a last run down Alf’s, and we had just had “an Alta Day.” You’ll know one when it happens.

Thursday: The Canyons

Thursday I was back to The Canyons. The day started with an 8am gondola ride for first tracks with some VIP’s. I was fortunate enough to grab 4 of the stronger skiing VIP’s and we dove in to the trees off Peak 5 for our warm up. Then it was up 9990 for an emergence from the clouds to a blue bird morning on some of Utah’s finest, untracked of course. At approx. 11:00 I dropped off the VIP’s at the top of the gondola and headed out to show Susan Riefer, a Skiing Magazine writer, around our mountain. Back up the 90 and out the north side we found what Susan called some of her best turns off the year.

Friday: The Canyons

Friday started with the courtesy appearance once again and then off to ski with Susan. She wanted to find some treats, and Peak 5 delivered about 14 inches of new freshies. Susan had the itch to ski Dreamscape, but it had been closed for a week. A couple phone calls later and we met a friendly lift maintenace worker at the base, snowmobile and all. Two runs of untracked and solitary powder were ours. The dream had come true: to ski untracked pow on your own private mountain. It was a phenominal day. One I didn’t expect to top in a long time. That was until Saturday.

It snowed heavy all Friday and into the night. The weather service had issued a storm warning for Saturday and into Sunday. We had received over 5′ of snow in 5 days. What couldn’t get any better did.

We pulled up to the gate on the North side just as a patroller was opening the upper traverse gate. Chase and Brad stopped and yelled up to the patroller asking if they could dive in. He nodded in approval just as I arrived to the gate so I submarined under Mr. Roper and got the first track down North side 90.

Saturday: The Canyons

Saturday dawned with me making the second gondola car. I had with me my brand new AK Rockets from Salomon. I had been patiently waiting their arrival and right on cue they had made it Friday afternoon. I also had some goggles in my pack for Chase which I had promised him a while back. I had seen the shape his current ones were in so I thought I’d surprise him with some schwag. I knew Chase was in the first gondola car, so I’d catch him on the hill. I didn’t catch him until the top of 9990 where he was stashing his pack.

These goggles were from Version, a new snowboard line which looked like a pair of fighter pilot goggles. He laughed a bit and then donned the gogs. We immediately dove into the lift line and down Fright Face. It was more light pow face. There was at least 24″ new of Utah’s finest on top of the previous days snow. I had a good feeling about the day. Chase and Brad were bombing down lines faster than I was used to. They didn’t wait at the lift which didn’t surpise me. The next run I almost caught them but I was still a bit slow.

On the third pass I caught them and then spent the next couple hours bombing Dutches Draw, 94 Turns, Fantasy Ridge and the South side trees. “Not bad for a marketing guy,” Chase said on the 4th or 5th lift ride. I just smiled and replied, “Not bad for a dirtbag ski bum,” and we all laughed. The pow was the deepest I’d ever skied at The Canyons in five years. I was choking every turn. It was a true snorkle day and I was on some Rockets. I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like on the straight skinny sticks of yester-year. One would’ve looked like a mole burrowing through the landscape.

We pulled up to the gate on the North side just as a patroller was opening the upper traverse gate. Chase and Brad had stopped and yelled up to the patroller if they could dive in. He nodded in approval just as I arrived to the gate so I submarined under Mr. Roper and got the first track, down North side 90. Looking over to see Brad and Chase bombing down the open shots in the trees it looked like two white flashes. The North side was ours and ours alone.

After returning to the 90 I took another 5-6 runs with the Boys. The snow kept building up on our goggles, hats and coats. I had huge ice/snow chunks on my helmet and chin. Chase’s new goggles and gator were so piled up with snow all one could see were two little eye holes and a silly powder grin. He just kept laughing every time we arrived at the base of the lift. It was comical. People looked at us like we were freaks…cause we were. Powder freaks. I kept running into people I hadn’t seen in weeks, more evidence of the repentance that was taking place. Some tried to stop and chat, but there was no time for that.

I hooked up with Scottie for a few runs through the South Side trees. They were deeper than I ever remember those trees being. I then hooked up with Brig for a few hidden tree runs off Peak 5. On our third run at about 2pm, Brig convinced me to lawn dart off a cliff. “It looked awesome, just like a video” he would later assure me. It felt like hospitalization for certain when I landed a little in the back seat and my leg tried to bend at the top of my boot.

After 5 minutes or so I skied down to the lift and hoped back on for another run. It wasn’t pretty, but the pow was too deep and despite what I thought was a broken fibula, I had to keep skiing. We headed back to Red Pine for a bite to eat and a bit of rest for my legs. I had been watching my Suunto’s log book and saw that I was just shy of reaching 40,000 vert. Wet, tired and very much in pain, I went up Saddleback for another thousand vert which combined with the ski to the base would push me over the top. It was hideous pain and about the same visually. I’m not sure I enjoyed many of those turns on that last run. I somehow managed down and then skied on down to the base of the mountain.

I know that I didn’t really enjoy any of those turns coming down Doc’s run to the base, but inside I knew I had reached the 40,000+ mark. I hadn’t set out that morning to reach 40,000+ vert skied but 29 laps later I had. Actually it was 40,750′ to be exact.

I was done. Friends told me that Sunday was better than Saturday cause it kept snowing like mad. I was out for a couple weeks with bruised bones in my lower legs so Sunday was spent dreaming and recovering. I’m not sure when the next day will come that I can match or out do the 40,750′ vertical I skied that Saturday. One thing I do know is that it was undoubtedly the “Best Day of the Year! POWDER!” At least that’s what my day planner says.

Yep, people do go nuts about this stuff. Hope you got a chance to go nuts this past season.

This video was taken a few years after we stopped teaching at The Canyons, which was in 1998. Even though there’s a million-dollar home at the base of 12:30, we still love our little stash.

[quicktime]http://www.feedthehabit.com/videos/ski/twelveThirty1.mov[/quicktime]

On a recent spring powder day, this is how it went down…

So I didn’t get on the gondola until 9:25 and was thinking it was done. I’d missed the window and every local had come out of the woodwork to nail this spring powder day. I figured if I headed to Condor I’d still have a chance at getting some left over powder.

From the top of the Gondola we (Tim, buddy Sean, Nick and myself) headed off to Lookout, got off and headed right towards The Drain. I had seen The Drain a week or so before and had thought about nailing it the next powder day since I hadn’t skied it yet this year.The Drain was epic, 4th or 5th person into it. The whole way down I’m thinking to myself, “Man, this is too good to be true. Where is everyone skiing?”

We arrived at Condor and there’s not a soul to be seen. I’m looking around thinking, “Is this open?”
With a shrug of the shoulders and a nod to the lifty in the shack, we hoped on.

There’s not a soul in sight still. Nobody coming down Flume, just a few people standing up there at base of Snow Canyon. As we ride Condor we can’t help but notice that there’s not a single track on Apex.

Confusion is setting in until at the point when we’re about ½ way up Condor we look down to Snow Canyon just in time to hear a huge ROAR and to see the patrol dropping the rope. Following that is a Chinese Downhill towards Condor. We all look at each other and we bust up laughing and cheering as we realize that we’ve just scored better than first chair. We’re like T minus 40th chair. This is a dream.

We arrive at the top and make a quick b-line down Apex. To our left we see that Aplande is done (6-7 tracks from the one chair in front of us that had 4 people and some greedy patrol). The game plan is now set: I’m on a b-line to Thrasher. As I dive in I see that I’m the 2nd person into Thrasher.

It’s bottomless, blower, waist deep, sick, nothing but Utah’s famous light and dry. Over half way down I shoot a glance to my left and up to see my fellow partners in crime as they rob the masses of their deserved first tracks, the ones they so patiently and faithfully waited for while we inadvertently “snuck” on Condor.

So there we were, the 4 of us heading down Boa to the lift again with not a soul in sight, grinning ear to ear. I’m thinking to myself, “I bet those people on the lift right now are looking at us coming down Boa and are thinking to themselves that they didn’t get up early enough for first tracks.” Funny thing is, I didn’t get up early either.

Guess this time the early bird didn’t get the worm…I did!

Buy Now: Search for Powder Skis

The message was simple and clear, it read:

“The Basin… Saturday?”

That’s all I needed to say and everyone knew exactly what to do.

Snowbasin Ski Resort is a lesser-known resort about an hour north of Park City, Utah. The resort will host the men’s and women’s downhill events for the 2002 Winter Olympics.

The man has cash and is willing to throw down for a worthy, underachieving resort like Snowbasin.

The place rocks thanks to millions of dollars in on-mountain improvements including two gondolas, a tram and a high-speed quad. Multi-billionaire, Earl Holding, owns Snowbasin and Sun Valley as well as Sinclair Oil, Little America Hotel and Big D Construction. The man has cash and is willing to throw down for a worthy, underachieving resort like Snowbasin.Because I am “Corporate Boy,” Saturday is about the only day I get to ski. This particular Saturday happened to fall during the busiest ski weekend of the year, President’s Day. It was a given that every resort in Park City and Little or Big Cottonwood would be packed beyond belief with skiers from all over the U.S., but Snowbasin—about 1.5 hours north of Salt Lake—would be relatively un-crowded.

PLUS, a third of the resort had been closed most of the week in preparation for a NOR-AM downhill event the following week. The Wasatch was pummeled Thursday and Friday, but since a third of the resort was closed to the public, the goods remained untracked. That is until Jean-Paul Express and the Olympic Tram were again opened to the public on SATURDAY!

The troops gathered at the parking lot of the Basin. Present were Gabe Glosband (AKA “The Swagmaster”) and Tristan Webb from Ski Utah, Kendall Card from The Canyons Resort and his wife, Cindy, Chris Palmer and a few others. We had a dream team of skiers and snowboarders who had never ridden at the Basin before—including myself.

Our first swings of choice were on the venerable Jean-Paul Express giving us a birds-eye view of the Olympic Downhill courses. It also serves up the best scenery of any ski resort in Utah, dropping you directly below a bigger-than-life cirque of steep chutes and bowls only accessible via a ridge hike from the top of the Olympic Tram (It’s more like a couple of soda cans hanging from a cable than a bona-fide tram like the Bird or Jackson).

After waiting a couple of minutes in the tram line, we opt for some warm-up laps on the lower mountain—ducking quickly into wide-open glades of fresh pow pow.

I like this place already.

We hop on Jean-Paul again, then decide to go for the gold and wait out the sizeable tram line to access the real goods.

From the top, a quick steep pitch with plenty of rock hits to satisfy any air-time urge leads to a short boot pack northward that delivers the real booty! We’re not talking pirate treasure here—we’re talking steep, untracked pow for 2000+ vertical feet.

We got what we came for—killer pow, great photos and perma-grin all around.

The rest of the day was divided between the two gondolas—accessing wide-open treeless bowls. Rock drops and steep chutes abound under the towering masses of rock cliffs and peaks. To put it lightly, Snowbasin rules the world! The resort delivers the best, true big mountain experience in Utah. I can’t wait to go back.

Who knows where I’ll be going this weekend, but I just got another email.

It reads:

“Alta, tomorrow?”

You see, I work at the resort and one would think that nailing fresh lines on opening day would be easy. The fact of the matter is that come opening day I am so slammed trying to get things in order for the season to start that fresh lines on an opener are a fairy tale. Well, my fairy tale came true this year, but it’s not what you’re thinking…it’s better.

Utah was blessed with a generous offering from the snow gods this fall, mid October to be exact. November came and…tales of waist deep were becoming more than I could stand.

Utah was blessed with a generous offering from the snow gods this fall, mid October to be exact. Hiking at Alta and the greater Wasatch was becoming the norm. November came and the snow continued. Tales of waist deep were becoming more than I could stand. The resort wasn’t supposed to open until November 17.

As the 17th neared I thought that for sure I would make it up for fresh lines on the opener. This was to be my year. On the afternoon of the 15th the Marketing Director came over to my desk to ask if I would be interested in joining 4 others who would be going up tomorrow to get some footage and stills for a promotion needed in L.A. on Friday, the 17th.

” You’ll need to be at the Gondola by 8 a.m. Think you can make it?”

“Are you kidding?” I quipped. “You don’t even have to ask. I’ll be there at 7 if you want!”

8 a.m. There we were, five of the most giddy riders on the earth that day. The resort would be opening the gondola and a one lift just for us. One lift was plenty. I had to tighten down my boots to be sure this wasn’t a dream. The lack of circulation and tingling in my toes told me it wasn’t a dream.

The tales of waist deep were true. Face shots in The Pines and an untracked paradise were my first turns of the year. I kept looking back at the lift to see that it was running…but no one was riding it. It was running and waiting for me. The cold nights had kept the pow-pow extra dry, some of Utah’s finest. After 4 laps of filming and photos they let us loose for one final run. I knew exactly where I was headed.

There was not a track in sight and no one to snake my line. The face shots I had been dreaming about all summer were finally here. Effortless turns led me from one glade into the next…

Skiing down Elk Ridge, The Pines are to the left. Open glades of perfect pitch open up continuously. It’s like a “choose your own adventure” skiing down Elk Ridge, you just dive off when you can’t stand it any more. What inevitably happens every powder day is that the temptation is too strong and despite the number of tracks, people drop in way too early. This day wasn’t any different. One, Two, Three, Four and there they went. I continued on down Elk Ridge. Lucky for me and a few other “Saintly souls” is that on powder days we resist the temptation and are rewarded with the final couple of glades. That’s not to say I haven’t ever given in to temptation. But this time, I was rewarded with a most bounteous feast.

There was not a track in sight and no one to snake my line. I didn’t even pause or check my speed, rather I dove in making big GS turns. The face shots I had been dreaming about all summer were finally here. Effortless turns led me from one glade into the next, and down to the tree line at the bottom. I stopped and looked up. It was snowing lightly with the sun’s rays shining through. My solo line and the scenery was an image I’ll not soon forget. I had earned this. Fifteen years in the waiting, and here it was.

I dove into the trees, out the bottom and down to the top of the gondola. I arrived to find the others waiting and I looked around to see that we all had huge smiles on our faces. I’d like to think that the snow gods were smiling too.

Buy Now: Search for Powder Skis

Those unfamiliar with Utah winters may not know that April is typically the best month for pow along the Wasatch Front. Deep bases and low crowds ensure short lift-lines and deep, untracked pow when Mother Nature decides to dump five feet of the white fluff.

This week was one of those weeks. The sky just kept puking and puking. Day after day, the snow kept piling up. Kendall and Brig feasted on the fluff and want their stories to be heard.

I get the “White Room” call every day, “Dude, wish you were here skiing the TWO FEET OF UNTRACKED with us. Too bad your sick bro!”

This week, Brig, riding for Line Skis and ICE poles logged some turns on the new Line Motherships. They are Line’s version of the super-fat twin-tip. Brig has perma-grin.

And Kendall, waiting patiently for his long-awaited Salomon AK Rocket’s, finally mounted ‘em up and took ‘em out to carve up the pow. Look for detailed product reviews soon.

I’m jonesing… big-time. I want to enjoy the April pow, but the Doc says no. I’ll be up there soon enough, until then I’ll dream of buffed-out singletrack this summer.

The season is almost over, but don’t tell that to Mother Nature… she’s blessing Utah with the white bounty. Go get some! And while you’re at it, get some Salomon AK Rocket’s to celebrate.

OB at The Canyons opens a new world to an already sizeable and varied inbounds offering. During the winter of 1999, Kendall Card and I spent much of our spare time hiking OB. We hiked and skied lines with untracked pow days after storms when inbounds was bumped out and littered with Texans.

This season, Ken and Brigham Graff have, once again, been working at The Can. I graduated and decided to start working for real, so Saturday has been my only guaranteed ski day-except for, ahhhem, sick days. They have skied The Thirty plenty of times and always call my office from their cell phones just before dropping in.

Let me tell you about Twelve-Thirty. The first time Ken and I skied it, he made 30 turns to my 12 and it was just past 12:30 pm. As we stood at the bottom admiring our artwork, we knew just what to call her, Twelve-Thirty. At any chance we could, we’d hike back there and ski it’s perfect pitch. We love her.

Obviously, this run means more to us than it ever will to you, but every true skier has his or her stash that they protect and revere like a good friend. The sad thing is that The Canyons is expanding into that pristine backcountry area. Twelve-Thirty will soon be spoon-fed to the masses of vacationers from Texas or Georgia who will turn it’s perfect, usually untracked slope into an obstacle course of uneven bumps. We will be forced to hike elsewhere.

Brig, Ken and I gathered to ski Twelve-Thirty for what may be the last time-at least as a backcountry stash. We brought the video and still digi’s to document our last respects to our backcountry friend. I’d like to share that day with you using the video and stills we took.

I’m all for modernizing our ski resorts, but there’s a point where enough is enough and expansion must stop. We can’t spoon-feed the goods to the masses-anything good in life is worth working hard for. That’s what we did… here’s the video evidence.

By the way, guess what time we skied it… 12:30 on the button!