Opening 2021/2022

 This year, I'd like to blog about my ski activities in the Wasatch and beyond. When I first moved to Utah and started backcountry skiing, I gathered a ton of information, knowledge, advice, and stoke from all of the long-form blogs that form a substantive legacy and history in this special range (tetonsandwasatch, Jason Dorais, Andy Dorais, Noah Howell, Jared Inouye, Patrick Fink, FitzRips, and others). Since then - the early 2010s or so - all ski documentation seems to have moved to Instagram, and often just IG Stories, which I don't think affords the same medium for thoughtfulness and expression as a blog. I'd like to try to recapture the excitement, wonder, and enjoyment that I felt reading everyone's blogs and maybe have a bit of fun doing it myself.

Let me address one thing head-on: my skiing is probably not as pretty as others'; my fitness probably not as strong; my skill not as elevated; and my ambition not as great. I don't want there to be any mistake about those facts. But I do try to get out a lot, and I think I see a lot of pretty things.

I'm also not writing this blog to self-aggrandize. Most of the content will likely be mundane. And Blogspot isn't exactly the hottest platform by which to gain sponsorship or acclaim. I just want to write about skiing, and share photos, and talk a bit about life. I remember discovering a whole world of old blogs and consuming every word and pixel, and I hope that writing here will extend that experience to someone else. So with that....

Oct 14 '21

In early October, I was hiking with a friend who mentioned that he had looked at the weather and we were supposed to have a warm week upcoming. We talked about how we'd gladly trade a warm October (even pushing into November) in exchange for more snow later on. This was for stability purposes, of course.

So much for that. Last week or so, the skier-ati in Utah started posting pictures of the plumes, which showed action coming up. Anywhere from 12" to 25" was headed towards Utah for mid-week, with temps dropping into the 10s and 20s overnight.

At first, I was reluctant. Skip the first storm, I thought, to protect the knees and bases. Oh well. After declining to ski the first day, when about 15" dumped into upper LCC, I got beers with my friend D that afternoon (who had skied), and by the next morning, I was texting him "u headed up?"

Along with most of the SLC backcountry community (and select portions of the SLC early season sledders community), D, G, and I dutifully drove to the Collins lot of Alta. Skinning up, I was jubilant. I've had a lot of uncertainty with my work this year - in terms of if I'll continue to work remotely or not - and I felt relief to be able to confirm that yes, I would be skiing this year.

With G setting a brisk pace up the steep lower half of Collins, we worked our way to the top of Wildcat lift and skied off the NE face to the angle station. The first turns - wary of rocks - brought woops from all of us and face shots on the way down. It felt like a Utah midwinter's day, although our bases were undoubtedly just a few inches from destruction.

As if we'd never stopped

We transitioned again, headed up to Baldy shoulder where there were just a few tracks in our line.

Me dropping in off the shoulder. 2 ft of powder felt as good as it ever did.

With light quickly leaving, we stopped where the run flattens out and ran up the road (D, he of the Salomon Shifts and BD skins, literally did run up the road while G and I performed a more civilized transition. To be fair, D was ready to ski before we were 😄) to the top of Wildcat for a last lap down.

Just a few Alta lines, but so good to be out. Bases came away with just a few claw marks. Worth it.