So, what I did on the 4th: NOTHING! After three days of pure play, I laid low. Ryan got a hall pass to party at the annual July 4 Parade on Park City’s Main Street this morning. He called me at 4 p.m. trashed and wanted to get together. Anyone who knows me, knows that being around drunk guys when I’m sober ain’t cool. I told him to enjoy the day; I was going biking with Stef and would watch the fireworks show tonight. The trails are drying out and because I’ve got the raddest Specialized MTB- the Women’s Pro-Stumpjumper- I am finally looking forward to rides around these here hills. I almost went skiing to celebrate the holiday. Snowbird closes today but I couldn’t find my pass. But I did haul Ryan up to Snowbird on June 26. He whined all the way. He complained that he was done with skiing. He “wanted to mountainbike. but yet again, Jill gets her way.” I told him that he could bike any old day this summer but how many times would he be able to ski? Unless he had a trip planned for New Zealand or South America that I didn’t know about, the answer was ONE. Today, June 26, 2005. We made it on-hill by the crack of noon. Skiers, boarders and sightseers in flip flops shared our tram space. Despite the infectious positive energy, Ryan still looked sore about not getting his bike ride. I reminded him that skiing is good for the soul; especially when it’s 75 degrees, reggae music’s wafting from the Plaza, you’re in a T-shirt and sunglasses and the snow still covers Great Scott. After 10 turns in Little Cloud Bowl, I saw that smile planted squarely between his reddening ears. The one that said, “Now what were we talking about?” The one that said, “What troubles?” For just a few hours, we were sharing runs and forgetting the workload, the bills, the phonecalls we had to make, the bike ride that wouldn’t happen today. It was April in June; soft, spring-like corn snow on the upper trails and sticky mush as you approached Little Cloud chair’s tiny liftline. We even forwent the tram download, opting instead to ski/hike our way to the base for one last hurrah. The mud patches we squished through provided that reality check. Winter is over. Almost overnight the slopes will cater to wildflowers and hiking trails… and mountainbikers. We now have four months of sailing, rock climbing, kayaking, running and biking ahead of us. Season ski passes are already on sale at some resorts and a few eager (i.e. fanatical) ski freaks will use the summer months to cross train. Not me. Now that we have storage-waxed our skis and boards, forget about them for awhile and live in the moment. Our Utah summers are short. It’s time to hit the dirt!
Rain, Sun, Rain, Sun. This is not what the weather forecasters would have predicted for us last year. What happened to global warming? Parts all over Utah are experiencing floods and rumors report that Snowbird Resort will try to stay open PAST July 4 because of continued snowfall at higher elevation. If Vail Resort had been open, I would have rented ski gear last weekend. We woke up to a blizzard on Saturday. Thursday and Friday were spotty as well and Ryan and I were thinking we should have stayed home in Park City. Rather than mill around the Village checking out boothes at the Teva Mtn Games, we grabbed a langorous breakfast at the West Side Cafe and prayed for the rain to end. The mountain bike comps were cancelled and so were all of the free clinics supposedly scheduled for spectators. Despite the weather, I can’t quite recommend the Games unless you just happen to be passing through Vail and want an afternoon to check out boulderers and kayakers competing for big bucks. Kids will get a kick of the activities, the free stickers and the bright colors. The clinics, too, are geared for the little ones rather than the big ones. But the Teva Games ain’t the Gorge Games. Sigh. The events (from bouldering and biking to adventure racing and kayaking) are open to anyone but if you are not a competitive athlete there’s not much to keep you occupied after a couple of hours. No free, outdoor live music (you had to buy concert tickets for the evening events), no demonstrations, no seminars for the general public, no active contests (like a tug o’ war or scavenger hunt but there were plenty of raffle entries to fill out), no true clinics (it was more like an expert standing around to offer answers to your questions). The best part was the Ultimate Dog Challenge- a simple agility test open to any and all dogs for a $10 donation to the local humane society. Finally, something to participate in that didn’t require skill! And my pup took second overall!! We recieved a cool toy donated by Ruffwear and a ceramic dog dish. Overall, I guess I was expecting more of a festival atmosphere but the focus was squarely on the Games themselves. The big win for organizers is that the Games will be nationally televised. Maybe they’ll be able to extract more $$ from sponsors to put on a show like the X Games or the Gorge Games; where there’s something for everyone regarless of the weather. This weekend is all about staying home, garage saling and enjoying some sun. I may even hit Snowbird for a few turns!
I made it to Snowbird before it was too late. The last “regular” Sunday of the season brings out all of the local riff-raff (The Bird will be open weekends through Memorial Day). Like the final day at Alta where the crowd gathers on top of High Rustler, core riders arrived at the top of Hidden Peak to party and celebrate what has come to be one of the biggest powder seasons of the decade. Beer, barbecues, buddies. As a fitting close, the sunny skies crowded in and squeezed out a shower of heavy, wet snow for my run. With the Peruvian side now off limits, I made my way through the thick waves of resort slush, alternately zipping and stopping as the softer sections grabbed my ski bases then released them. As I wound down Regulator, every turn echoed the epic runs of the season – at Snowbasin. Alta, Solitude, Tahoe, Park City, The Canyons, Jackson. This was going to be a very long summer.
I can’t believe it’s almost over- ski season that is. I’m sitting here at the radio station (94.9 FM The Blaze in SLC) about to tell listeners to expect 80-degree weather tomorrow for the closing day at Alta, Brighton and Solitude. The Park City resorts shut down last weekend. Only Snowbird is left standing. It’s been an incredible ride that started on Halloween and didn’t wind down for me until yesterday. I spent three days shooting this week with three different photographers as they tried desperately to milk those last few powder days. Unfortunately, by Tuesday it was crap. Powder on frozen waves of snow crystals, softnening to mush but not soon enough to make the morning pleasureable.
The weather is supposed to take a turn on Monday and, who knows, we may have a few more powder days on the way. If not, that’s fine. I’ve got a new pair of K2 Cinch bindings coming. I’m slapping them on my new Head Jade snowboard and spending the rest of the season learning to do more than link turns on easy blues. The Bird closes May 31. There’s plenty of time! BTW, you can still get here and find some great skiing. Check out the Bird’s Web site (www.snowbird.com) for some amazing spring package deals.
I got my wish. The snow fell, and fell, and fell. Finally, we’ve gotten a break and I can start sleeping again. One more hevay snow warning until tomorrow but the sun and hot temps are predicted for the rest of the week. Over the last 2.5 weeks we the Cottonwoods have received about 13 feet of snow bringing base depths to more than 200 inches at most resorts. So why would I leave a perfectly epic powder week in Utah for Jackson Hole where they have half the base we do?
You might think it was all about the pineapple jalapeno margaritas and the après-ski scene at the Mangy Moose. You’d be partly right. The note from Jackson Hole nearly slipped past me as I breezed through my e-mail inbox last week. There it was reporting 21 inches of new snow in 24 hours. Finally, Jackson Hole, Wyo., was getting filled in. Local reports say they’ve had the driest season in five years. But, hey, at least they’re open- unlike Bogus Basin, Idaho, which recently closed and sent the scheduled U.S. Freestyle Championships back to Park City Mountain Resort and the Utah Olympic Park. So, we leave. Going to Jackson, however, is like running to the store for milk. It’s an easy four and a half hour drive north. We left late and arrived in time to catch a few needed winks at my favorite ski-in, ski-out lodge, the Best Western Inn at the Village. I love the place because it’s conveniently located in Teton Village and you get parking; the TVs are huge and the sheets silky soft; they allow pets; and their Vertical bar and restaurant serves the only margarita I have ever craved – the spicy, sweet pineapple jalapeno marg. (I hear the restaurant is tops too.) I have to be honest; we Utah skiers are waaay too spoiled. After three runs, we were complaining about the conditions at Jackson. Had we not gotten the storm that left Utah with more than three feet of untracked, unbumped powder, we would have thought the skiing at Jackson killer. But, by the time we came off Rendezvous Bowl, we had a packed powder, moguly experience. Bumps everywhere. On the bright side, Jackson has an enviable collection of ripping skiers so the bumps are in the right place. Of course, I made the stupidest mistake you should never make before leaving home. I had someone new tune my skis. I won’t name names but since my boys Matt and Mark at the Sportsden were out for the day and I desperately needed a baseweld from the rock that snuck up and hit me on the Baldy Traverse at Snowbird, I dropped them at a shop in Park City. The problem with tuning your skis and then leaving town is that when they don’t ski right you can’t take them back to be fixed. My edges were a mess. The shoprats must have put the skis through the grinder after sharpening the edges because I had the grindpattern in the metal. Thank the planners for putting one of the best repair shops around- Bridger Sports- right at the base of the resort. Jason did a quick re-grind and hand file and I was back out loving my Head Mojos. He also recommended a few secret spots that might spice up our Jackson ski experience. So long as you have beacon, shovel, and probe you’re good to go past any of the backcountry gates. We headed for the Upper Rock Springs gate and were immediately skiing untracked powder. If it weren’t for the 200 or so ski tour operators in town for the SkiTops convention, we might have found a Jackson Hole Mountain Guide to glide with but instead we were on our own, and soon standing above a shot they call Spacewalk. And it has that name for a reason. After about seven turns down a steep couloir through tracked up, fluffy crud, we peered over a 20-foot rock with no way around it. Mandatory air. I looked at Ryan. “You go first,” I said nervously. It was big for me. Ryan mentioned something about trying to walk through the ice on the side, I said no way, then he backed up a couple of steps and jumped. The soft landing broke his fall and he yelled, “Yeah!” My turn. “Go straight off, feet together, hands in front, steady your balance, look ahead,” I chanted to myself; and jumped. The adrenaline surged as I sailed and landed. It was soft. Wahoo! Our day was made. Time for Moose Brews and hero stories over a giant plate of nachos at the Mangy Moose followed by margs at the Vertical. The next day we refueled at the Atrium restaurant in the Snow King Resort hotel. Their $9 buffet breakfast with all the staples completely hit the spot and allowed us to go all day without stopping for lunch. If only we had that guide. Jackson is a tremendous mountain but when it’s all skied up, you need a local’s knowledge and eyes. We wasted half our day stopping to figure out where to go to find good snow without falling off a cliff or dying in an avalanche. We skied mostly trees on the higher runs as the warm temps had turned the lower terrain into mashed potatoes. As the day waned, runs started to fill in but not soon enough. We had a benefit dinner to attend at Nani’s Pasta House in the town of Jackson. The unique event wasn’t like other sit-down dinners. You go in like you would on any other night but the $30 tab for salad, pasta and tiramisu went to help fund The Refuge – a non-profit org that aids at-risk teens. Instead of some tough chicken and frozen veggies on china you got an Old-World plate of al dente spaghetti and veal meatsauce and met some of the kids benefiting from The Refuge as they helped serve and clear the tables. With a stomach full of noodles, we made a quick stop at The Liquor Store for ‘real’ beer then headed into the storm. The Utah forecast was calling for multiple feet over the next few days. Jackson’s closed now but the summer’s are even bigger with Yellowstone National Park in their backyard. For lodging and resort information call the Jackson Hole Central Reservations at 888-838-6606 or the Jackson Hole Chamber at (307) 733-3316.
