With more than 16” of fresh snow predicted overnight, we knew we had to go back to Snowbird resort to hit more fresh pow today. Alarms set for 6am, we woke up bright and early, drove to the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon, and sat with hundreds of other powder-hungry skiers in a giant queue that looked like a miles-long conga line of fire ants. The canyon was closed for avalanche mitigation work, a common theme we were picking up on. I found it humorous that the best source of current information on the canyon closure was Instagram, so reluctantly I reinstalled the addictive app to stay up to date on the status of the closure. Finally, around 9:15am, the fire ants began to march into the canyon - it was open!
Ok, so the title of this post alludes to some tears shed. I’m curious what you’re thinking I cried about, any guesses? If you guessed that it was from absolutely sucking at skiing deep powder and crashing every few turns, you nailed it! Jason and I boarded the Aerial Tram, our logic was that since it was closed yesterday, it would hold the most fresh powder to ski. This logic sounded good, except the Tram was slower than molasses in January. We were pretty far towards the front of the line thanks to our 6am wakeup, but there were still dozens upon dozens (let’s be honest- a few hundred) of folks ahead of us. Drat! 40 minutes later, we made our way up the top of the mountain.
Long line to board the aerial tram - our first time riding a ski tram!
Maybe it’s because we dropped into a steep black diamond run (I think it might have been double), but the combination of steepness with several FEET of powder made me feel scared. Basically, the snow was so thick and chopped up from previous skiers that I felt like if I skied into it I would certainly crash. So to control this, I tried to ski very slowly, which turns out to be a bad idea in thick powder. My slow turns just meant my skis got buried under feet of heavy snow, and when I got stuck, I would barrel over my skis, causing me to crash (into the softest pillow ever) and have to dig myself out. It was excruciatingly frustrating, and I had a feeling this wasn’t what everyone was nuts over when they declared they love powder days. When I got to the bottom of the run, Jason’s beard has grown 2 mm longer in the time it took me to get down, and I was on the verge of tears. He looked very concerned when he realized my sorry state, and asked what I wanted to do and how he could help. I was determined to get better, and knew that once I figured out the technique I would have fun.
After polling at least 5 skiers on the lift/slopes, I had an idea of a new technique. Basically, I had to stop skiing so slowly. This was kind of scary, since the idea of going faster when you’re scared seems tantamount to disaster. However - it worked! By looking down the mountain instead of staring at the giant bolus of chopped up powder in front of me, I was able to keep up momentum and slice through the powder like a hot knife through butter. I was having fun!
Jason and I became powderhounds and did some wacky traverses to hit fresh snow. He really wanted me to have the experience of getting first tracks through fresh powder, something he has experienced before but I have not. Hence the 6am alarm today. We did find a run with plenty of untouched snow and it was surreal to feel like you are floating through several feet of soft, pristine snow. Wow. Ok, I finally got it, the whole hype around powder skiing!
Dinner was Vietnamese food with Fiona at a really good spot called Oh Mai. I got pho, and Fiona and Jason got bahn mi which are apparently pronounced “bun me” not “bahn me" like I have been saying my whole life. Whoops. Overall, a lovely day, and it was a day at the ski resort I am sure I will never forget.