A little bird whispered in my ear last night that Solitude was going to open the Powderhorn and Summit chairs for the 1st time this season. That meant that there’d be many many feet of snow that was just sitting there waiting for someone to ski it. Snow that had taunted all the weekend warriors who were forced to look up in frustration as they could not reach the promised land. I felt I owed it to these poor souls to do my part and ski it for the greater good. You know, base building and compaction and all that snow sciencey stuff.
The same little bird got back to me this morning and told me I could bring a few folks along to help with the hard work. Things were coming together nicely so I dialed the usual suspects but only Kalen was able to come out and play. Then the heavens parted and a ray of pure light shown down upon me causing my phone to ring. Turns out the Provo Bros. and some guy named Tanner Hall were looking to shred some Solitude pow after a quick Fox Business News thing they had to sort out in the valley. A posse was formed and passes secured. The stoke meter was rising.
Kalen arrived a few minutes after I did and we opted to wait for the slackers by spinning a few laps. It was cold, windy and snowing. We sought shelter in the trees off the Powderhorn chair as the bombs echoing off the canyons were a pretty clear indicator that the Summit chair wasn’t open for business. This worked out just fine because there was seriously deep blower pow everywhere. I mean face shots and smiles for days. Cat calls from the lift added the little bird (aka Nick Como) and Adam Barker to the team and we poked into the cirque and other pockets of love to reveal even deeper blower snow. It was ridiculous. Had there been anything to see other than white I’d have taken photos, maybe, actually I wouldn’t have. It was a full on powder lust frenzy and there was no satiating the beast.
The slacker crew finally showed up and we shared the love with them. There was much rejoicing and saying of stuff that only makes sense at the time. There was even fist bumping. It was serious. An executive decision was eventually made to post up at the Summit rope line and wait for the red coats to arrive. So we waited. Then we waited some more. Dibbs showed up. It was nice to see Dibbs. He gave me a crumbled cereal bar that had been in his pocket for a few weeks. It was good. Neil Provo and Tanner did some stretching snow yoga meditation thing. The rope dropped. The posse loaded 4 of the 5 first Summit chairs of the season. It was deeper, blowerier and face shotier than the previous snow. More rejoicing and saying of stuff that really makes no sense but at the time seems fitting. Fists may have been bumped again and even Barker jumped off of something. The deep pow love fest continued until we ran out of legs. There were still fresh lines at 2:30 when the need for calories and liquids finally trumped the addiction. Then we went home.
Provo Bros. edit…dig it…
All Monday’s should be like this. Write your congresspeople and demand it.