Skiing on Thursday, February 24, 2011
While Rob was undergoing shoulder surgery and in Sandy’s good care, I headed toward Ogden, Utah to check out Snowbasin. I had not been there since the day of the Men’s downhill of the 2002 Olympic Winter Games based in Salt Lake City. On that day, just a few months following the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks on New York City, the Snowbasin venue (and the Olympic Games in general) were more of a paramilitary state with extremely high security, and limitations on movement. Skiing Snowbasin during the Olympic events was possible but discouraged due to the routing of traffic and the intensive security check points. Our group didn’t bother trying to ski due to the hassles involved.
This day was different. I arrived about 9:45 am following the drive in from Park City. It was snowing lightly and fairly cold and blustery. I was able to score a lift ticket from Kent Lyons, the general manager after he first checked with Squaw. Fortunately the receptionist put him through to a voice mail, and I was able to present a business card which was good enough for him. We talked about the season thus far, lift ticket systems, and soon I was on my way up the Needles Express gondola. Rob had advised me to try the John Paul lift (was there also a George Ringo lift?) I saw this quad flanking the gondola and decided to head in that direction from the top.
The snow surface had some wind pack to it, and the lines were very funky, lots of double fall line, and the visibility was nil due to the flat light. I made a few runs on John Paul, then headed back u the gondola to try ‘Mens Start’ which required a ride on the canister-like Allen Peak Tram to 9,450 ft. Although no visibility to speak of, I headed down the start of the Olympic downhill and veered left toward Easter Bowl and The Burn. By the time I reached the base, it was nearing noontime. On the trip to Snowbasin, each directional sign also pointed to Wolf Creek and Powder Mountain ski areas. Rob, Sandy and Martha had always recommended Powder as a place to try, so rather than eating lunch, I opted for the 30-minute drive Powder Mountain, in Huntsville. As I made the steep climb up to their lodge, snow was falling and I wasn’t quite sure the Eurovan had enough strength left in the tranny to get me there. I lumbered up the pass and eventually came upon some smaller ski area buildings, a ski school sign, and a small parking lot reminiscent of Mad River Glen’s approach on Route 17 in Fayston, Vermont.
With limited visibility, I pulled in, parked, tossed on my ski boots, grabbed my boards and headed for the old double chair. I didn’t see any place to pick up a trail map, so I hoped for the best. At the top I saw signs for ‘Powder Country’ through an access gate. Looked inviting to me, so I headed through and began making my way down. The snow was amazing, some untracked and over a foot deep in spots. I followed the fall line, though I could not see a lift in site to mark as a destination. Kind of an odd feeling.... torn between the self-responsibility of knowing where you are and the supreme temptation of the untracked powder that lies ahead. Soon to my right I saw a skier swoop past, although on a different line. I headed his way and soon found myself headed down the flank of the access road up to the ski area. On the way in I had seen skiers and boarders waiting near a shuttle stop sign. I followed the path down and soon was on a full, steamy-windowed bus heading back up to the lodge. We passed by the lot where I had parked and continued up about another mile. Here I was able to grab a trail map and become better–oriented to Powder and to powder!
Eventually I made my way down through powdery chutes and treed runs to the Timberline lift, then took that to the Hidden Lake Express. The visibility was poor, so I hugged the trees and found plenty of stashes, even after 3:00 pm! On my last run down Mainline, I got over to the left and saw a drift that appeared perfect to pop. As I crested the top, the backside was an abrupt 6-foot drop into a trough. I wasn’t carrying enough speed and down I went, skewering the base of the next windrow and catapulting over my shovels! Fortunately I didn’t shatter anything but my confidence.
Next trip up Hidden Lake was my last, so I again followed a pack through the gate into ‘Powder Country’, but this time on the other side of the ravine. Here it was, 3:45 pm and I was still getting untracked snow, down through the vast expanse of aspen trees. Left side of the ravine was soft and fluffy, the right side was stiffer and crunchy as the aspects changed. Soon I was back at the same shuttle stop, although on the west side of the road this time.
This was the best lunch-skipping decision I have ever made… Snowbasin was nice, but Powder was heaven.
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