Winter fun abounds: one state – five days – two canyons – four ski resorts, and yes, it WAS epic.
I know that some people feel that word—epic—is too often used, particularly when describing a day of skiing or riding (a.k.a. snowboarding).
As I await my flight from Salt Lake City (SLC) back to Sacramento (SMF), I can honestly say that these four days of skiing were damn close to epic.
After a lifetime of being told “you should’a been here yesterday,” well, this time I was.
Anyone who has spent anytime skiing or riding the storied, near-perfect powder of Utah will be well familiar with the iconic canyons, known as Little Cottonwood and Big Cottonwood. (Let the record show, I don’t really think the Cottonwood trees are of any difference in stature: rather, it is the topographical characteristics where they differ.
Like with men, it’s a size thing.
I was delighted to be accompanied by Daughter No. 2—whose preference for snow sports is to be solidly strapped to a large board—for the first three days of mountain mania, as we explored the bounds of Brighton, Solitude, and Snowbird; all incredible resorts in their own right.
For once in my life, our timing was exquisite. We flew into SLC last Thursday. That night it dumped over a foot and a half of glorious, fluffy powder in the aforementioned canyons. Friday we hit the slopes of Brighton—arguably, one of the country’s favored Meccas for snowboarders.
And it was as epic conditions as this old guy has ever shredded, slid, stumbled and skied down.
That brings me to the requisite reality check of how well I am actually able to take advantage of these special days.
My 50-something quad muscles felt like someone was sticking a knife into them—and twisting it—while my searing lungs discovered the relative difference in oxygen content between sea level, where I live, and a ski resort at over 10,000 feet.
All I can say, thank goodness for Rumplemintz: it does not really remedy my physical limitations—I just don’t get bothered by them as much.
Speaking of limitations, at least in my aging years as I approach senior-citizenhood, or as one of “The Olds” as I understand is the in-vogue term nowadays, I look at those double black diamond runs that disappear over a cliff and recall the line from Top Gun,
“Son, your ego is writing checks that your body can’t cash.”
You may have noticed I only mentioned three ski resorts so far. Well, Daughter No.2 had to return home before I did, so for my last day on the mountain I ventured up to, arguably, one of the country’s favored Meccas for skiers.
Yes, I went to the perennially acclaimed Alta.
Alta is favored for a number of reasons. First and foremost, being at the upper end of Little Cottonwood Canyon, it gets in quantity and quality some of the best snow on the planet.
Second, the dramatic and often challenging terrain is inviting to skiers of the highest level in ability and nerve—or those of us who want to pretend we are like them.
But, there is a third reason often quoted by Alta devotees: they don’t allow those effing snowboarders (hence, I only go up there sans board-bound Daughter No. 2).
Or, do they?
Luckily, no one reads my blog posts—or at least this far down my tedious text—otherwise, what I am about to reveal, quite likely might gain me admittance to a hit list from those Alta addicts.
As I slid to a skidding stop at the base of Alta, with my Cheshire Cat grin from ear-to-ear at the end of my wonderful day on the slopes, I happened to notice three snowboarders ambling by me. Since I had just spent three days with Daughter No. 2 amongst a plethora of boarders, it took me a moment to realize the odd juxtaposition.
I was at Alta…where did these three guys with their snow-covered boards and requisite cool board attire come from?
As I was wondering out-loud—which often gets me in hot water with the wife—that very question, an Alta employee was walking near-by and she said,
“This is national forest land: snowboarders are not prohibited from the Alta ski [and apparently, board] resort, they just can’t ride the chairlifts.”
Combine this simple, yet significant distinction, with the fact that the top of Alta connects with the top of near-by Snowbird, to the point that they even offer a combined AltaSnowbird lift ticket (unless you are a boarder), it is no sweat to take the appropriate chairlift at Snowbird, and ride down anywhere desired through—what I must imagine are—shocked skiers on the Alta side.
Take a short shuttle ride back to Snowbird; repeat as necessary…just like your shampoo.
Is it worth all those logistics? You will have to ask one of the snowboarders.
Do they do it just because they can, and to piss off the Alta Is For Skiers advocates? Again, you will have to ask one of the snowboarders.
As we return to my post, already in progress, I saw this sign on one of the chairlift towers.
In case you cannot read the fine print, it reads:
“Always Ski In Control!”
“Unmarked obstacles may exist or present themselves at any time”
I could not help but to think about an incident last year when Daughter No.2’s boyfriend made the acquaintance of a tree that presented itself to his face as he was riding through the trees, with the result shown in the following picture.
Finally, skiing and snowboarding out of state is damn expensive. Even if you sleep in your car or couch-surf, the lift tickets at some resorts have approached $100. Yes, that is for one person for a one day pass.
So, here I must give credit to my SLC resident sister—whom I will call Judy—who annually picks me up from the airport, provides lodging, prepares an amazing culinary selection (especially her desserts), sometimes gets me free lift tickets and bus passes (or often even takes me to the ski resorts and picks me up), and offers to do my laundry.
And, no, you cannot have her real name and phone number.
[...] Not even at the—excuse the overused cliché—iconic resort of Alta, where it is rumored that snowboards are prohibited (except, they really aren’t). [...]