Jackson Hole 2013
Sunday January 27th, Day 1 / 6
I woke up to a sunrise that was soon shrouded by drizzle. Luckily, I would soon learn that it was snowing at the top. The tram’s info board said it was currently 34 degrees, 30 degrees at the base, 20 mid-mountain, and 12 at the top. How’s that for unusual weather?
I started the day going straight to the Hobacks. I think there were only three tracks heading in - odd given that I didn’t get the first tram ride. Light snow hid the crust from yesterday’s warm drizzle - crust in the shape of moguls. I guess that was why no one went in there. On the bright side, I had the place to myself. Halfway down I encountered fog that was a near whiteout, I failed to spot a good exit, and was forced to crawl my way out through brush and powder.
Soaked from wet snow and already worn out from that one run, I went back to the room. There I met up with Dad, who had tremendously ambitious plans of taking the easiest runs until he got used to his new rentals. That reminds me, as part of the package deal he booked, his ski rentals were brought to our room. Yes. A delivery bro carried a pack of skis and some tools to our room, picked out a set suitable for Dad’s needs, and fitted the bindings to his boots on the floor of our hotel room.
But anyway, I joined Dad on the easy groomers, having given up on my usual favorite... and I had a great time. It’s delightful how my new board bounces from edge to edge on groomed runs, and the trees off the groomed runs are more satisfying than the sparse trees in the Hobacks. All the while it continued to snow, and I think we got four inches total. Nice!
Lunch was the amazing Coulior Cafe at the top of the gondola. I swear, they have some of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had. I saw poutine on the menu and I couldn’t pass it up. Poutine is gravy over french fries and cheese curds, although I’ve heard of variations. Being from Canada, it has pretty low-class connotations... Sorry, couldn’t resist. Let me rephrase: mostly found in greasy fast food joints, poutine has low-class connotations, I appreciate the irony of a fancy restaurant whose dinner is a one hundred dollar four-course meal serving food that would be more at home in Wisconsin. And they made it look gourmet. I took pictures. The amazing reuben I ordered had corned beef slices about as thick as a skirt stake yet they were so tender that it had the texture of tuna. Dad’s tuna sandwich had the texture of falafel. I seriously didn’t notice the irony in that until I started writing it. Said sandwich was ahi tuna with fried okra or something, in case you’re wondering.
While bouncing around through some trees I came to a stop and had quite a surprise at what I saw. Fresh elk carrion! Before me lie the skull and long spine of an elk, flesh picked presumably by wolves, with antlers and some ribs still attached, and bloodied snow around it. I snapped pictures, and as any sane person with a camera would do, I moved to get closer to the carnage when I discovered I was sitting next to a reddish bone, no more than six inches from my hip. Not wanting to uncover more gruesome elk parts, I decided not to move nearer. You don’t see that boarding the Midwest!
There’s more snow in the forecast for tonight with a 70% chance of it, and a chance of snow every day for the rest of the week. I’m hoping for more!
Monday January 28th, Day 2 / 6
Today was beautiful. Picture this: partly sunny with steady flurries. It’s a paradox. The sun was partially piercing through clouds or shining on select areas but never fully obscured and all the while there were lazy flurries falling. I took some photos that look great, but I facepalmed when I noticed my glove is in the frame of my best shot.
It seems the ski area is getting all the forecasted snow, but none at the base. Odd... but awesome.
One of the glades I like to ride put me into some close calls. Searching for untracked snow in trees leads me to places that other, perhaps wiser, riders avoid. And when I exit that glade I see the backs of signs whose other side reads: “Closed: Cliff Area.” Loller.
Tuesday January 29th, Day 3 / 6
Powder day! The steady accumulations over last night and the yesterday resulted in some worthy powder. Oh how I love powder. Nurturing, supportive, beautiful powder. While most it wasn’t deep to feel like riding Marty McFly’s hoverboard, but it was deep enough to feel like a graceful plummet. You know the feeling when an elevator begins its descent? That’s what it feels like going over moguls in powder, which I was doing all day. Like gravity lessens briefly.
The forecast put today as the coldest day of the trip. Still felt fine to me. It was one of those days where, even though my hands were warm, my mittens became stiff and frozen. It’s useful: frozen gloves provide finger support. I’m totally joking.
The Saratoga Bowl opened today - apparently it had been closed since some storm in December happened. I went over to hit that after my last run in the Hobacks, and it was more tracked up than expected. Word travels fast, it seems. However, the powder was knee deep! My new board floats so well I barely need to try. The traverse to get out of the Saratoga Bowl - as expected - sucked ass, where I found myself boarding over brush, crawling over logs, and faceplanting in powder. About that - when you stop, deep powder weighs you down like chains on your ankles. Twice today I leaned forward to swing my board before me and the powder wouldn’t have it. So like a falling tree I fell face-first into deep snow. And if that’s not embarrassing enough, it’s hard to get up. I had to turn around, pirouetting on my face, to get my board downhill to be able to stand up. Snow went down my collar and up my shirt, which is more funny than uncomfortable to me.
Like last year, it hurts to walk. It doesn’t hurt to board.
Wednesday January 30th, Day 4 / 6
Powder day! Again! It’s the sort of stuff that gets kicked up in the air and hits you in the chest when you blast through it.
Have you ever been on a swaying boat, or wading in steady waves and you feel as though you’re still swaying after? That’s how I feel now. Swoop right, carve left - constant rising and falling - powder moguls are like being a kid again enjoying a playground swing.
I don’t think it stopped snowing since it started late last night.
Thursday January 31st, Day 5 / 6
Another powder day! It snowed every day we’ve been here. God has spoken to me, he says I owe him.
I waited for the tram to open this morning in the longest line I’ve seen for it; still only took about thirty minutes. Later a ski patrol guy told me they “dropped more than two hundred bombs.” Translation: they fired more than two hundred explosive rounds - mortar shells, really - in an attempt to trigger avalanches before people were on the slopes. From where I stood they sound like faraway shotgun blasts, only louder. [Addendum, Feb 1st: I saw a photo of two Jackson Hole ski patrol guys on the cliff near the top of the tram, one throwing a lit 2-pound explosive just like a stick of dynamite. I thought they were all fired from mortars! SO AWESOME.]
I think I got a good video of first-person boarding on that first run. That would be a miracle since those videos always suck. I need a better way to share the awesomeness.
While screwing around in Saratoga Bowl I saw not one but two ski patrol guys do a somersault fall in the powder, then do the embarrassing face pirouette to get up. I feel better about my boarding ability. Seeing some guys blast through powder makes me feel like a scrub, y’know.
Friday February 1st, Day 6 / 6
Holy crap ANOTHER powder day! Seven inches of snow fell overnight! It snowed every ski day, and the forecast is for it to be clear on travel day. An estimate I read puts the total snow this week at three feet and two inches. While in the Hobacks, a skier echoed my thoughts when he asked the sky, “What did I do to deserve this?”
Waiting for the tram to open took longer today, but for the same reason. Avalanche risks. They even made an announcement to explain the delay. Still totally worth it.
I feel like I’m so pro at riding powder now. I’m spoiled: I don’t want to ride anything else. It took less effort to wind through trees and dodge boulders in powder than it did to ride down groomed runs, and the groomed runs were in decent condition.
But today is the final day of boarding. From the slopes, looking down at the beauty of the valley - the truly grand Tetons, winding Snake River, the sun’s rays bursting through the clouds - I was saddened knowing that I have to leave, and I am bit doleful now as I write. While I am looking forward to going home, Dad and I are already talking about coming back to Jackson Hole.