Plans were hatched in a Salt Lake coffee shop late last evening. As a result, I was going to get to mark one more "must-do" line off my list before the end of the 2004-05 season. Here it was going to be June 18, and we were going to ski Baldy Main Chute!
Marc_C, Dale, Bob Dangerous and I all rendezvoused on the Tram Plaza deck 45 minutes later than planned at 8:45. Marc_C and I walked in at 8:05, a whopping 5 minutes late, but Dale & Bob had decided to catch the first tram without us for a run in Peruvian Cirque. Their exploration did let us know, however, that you could still ski to within about 200 yards of the base of the Tram.
Up we went. It was as clear a day as they come, but the wind was howling across the ridgeline as we set off for the col between Hidden Peak and Mt. Baldy, clicked out of our skis, and started hoofing up the knife edge toward Baldy's summit.
It was about a 45-minute schlep before we reached the snowless crown of Baldy. The wind continued unabated, but we still relaxed a bit to catch our collective breath, try to calm nerves, and take in the 360-degree panoramas. Before long, however, it was time to push off.
We first caught glimpses down Little Chute and Middle Chute, being careful not to get caught up in the rotten snow on the flat summit and tumble into the abyss. Bob, our guide, pushed off first, carving beautiful turns in absolutely perfect corn, shaving off about 4" of the stuff with every turn. A river of slush formed in the center of the gully, and just kept running non-stop for a good 4 or 5 minutes. One by one we each pushed off, stopping after several hundred verts to regroup. Bob clocks Main Chute at 50 to 55 degrees, but I swear it wasn't as intimidating to me from above as it is from below.
In the narrowest part of the throat rocks began to appear -- not rocks from the ground, but good-sized chunks that had rained down from the heating of the cliffs above. We treated them as slalom gates, carving turns down between and through them.
Just a few minutes after the start of the run, Main Chute was over all too soon as we popped out above Ballroom in Alta Ski Area, closed for the season for a full 2 months now, but the fabulous turns were far from over. We cut slightly left to Harold's, where we carved up the unblemished corn in big arcs, pausing at the bottom to admire our signatures in the snow. Then we clicked out of our skis again for the short hike to the top of Alta's Wildcat chair.
Pausing again for a moment, we drank in the views of Alta below, noting that the old Watson Shelter is already gone and part of the foundation for the new restaurant is already poured. Pushing off through the trees we found ourselves atop the Keyhole back into Snowbird, still perfectly covered, yet tight in living up to its name. Before we knew it we were back on the Tram Plaza, an accumulated 4,278 vertical feet later.
Things were too good to stop now, so we headed back up and out the same knife-edge ridge to return to the scene of our best run from two weeks ago: High Baldy Triangle (a.k.a Colossus per Bob). Sure enough, the due-north aspect yielded perfect corn at noon, yet another stellar spring run down to Eye of the Needle Chute and back to the base. As we made our final turns, it was peculiar to hear the "click, click, click" of sleds cruising down the resort's summer alpine slide as we skied. Two runs, 7,480 vertical feet, and 4 hours after we began, we were all toast.
Yet another perfect June day in the Wasatch!
(I've got lots and lots of photos for you today -- too many, but a mere fraction of what I took. I'll split them amongst two posts to improve page loading performance -- the second post only for the additional photos is here.)
Marc_C, Dale, Bob Dangerous and I all rendezvoused on the Tram Plaza deck 45 minutes later than planned at 8:45. Marc_C and I walked in at 8:05, a whopping 5 minutes late, but Dale & Bob had decided to catch the first tram without us for a run in Peruvian Cirque. Their exploration did let us know, however, that you could still ski to within about 200 yards of the base of the Tram.
Up we went. It was as clear a day as they come, but the wind was howling across the ridgeline as we set off for the col between Hidden Peak and Mt. Baldy, clicked out of our skis, and started hoofing up the knife edge toward Baldy's summit.
It was about a 45-minute schlep before we reached the snowless crown of Baldy. The wind continued unabated, but we still relaxed a bit to catch our collective breath, try to calm nerves, and take in the 360-degree panoramas. Before long, however, it was time to push off.
We first caught glimpses down Little Chute and Middle Chute, being careful not to get caught up in the rotten snow on the flat summit and tumble into the abyss. Bob, our guide, pushed off first, carving beautiful turns in absolutely perfect corn, shaving off about 4" of the stuff with every turn. A river of slush formed in the center of the gully, and just kept running non-stop for a good 4 or 5 minutes. One by one we each pushed off, stopping after several hundred verts to regroup. Bob clocks Main Chute at 50 to 55 degrees, but I swear it wasn't as intimidating to me from above as it is from below.
In the narrowest part of the throat rocks began to appear -- not rocks from the ground, but good-sized chunks that had rained down from the heating of the cliffs above. We treated them as slalom gates, carving turns down between and through them.
Just a few minutes after the start of the run, Main Chute was over all too soon as we popped out above Ballroom in Alta Ski Area, closed for the season for a full 2 months now, but the fabulous turns were far from over. We cut slightly left to Harold's, where we carved up the unblemished corn in big arcs, pausing at the bottom to admire our signatures in the snow. Then we clicked out of our skis again for the short hike to the top of Alta's Wildcat chair.
Pausing again for a moment, we drank in the views of Alta below, noting that the old Watson Shelter is already gone and part of the foundation for the new restaurant is already poured. Pushing off through the trees we found ourselves atop the Keyhole back into Snowbird, still perfectly covered, yet tight in living up to its name. Before we knew it we were back on the Tram Plaza, an accumulated 4,278 vertical feet later.
Things were too good to stop now, so we headed back up and out the same knife-edge ridge to return to the scene of our best run from two weeks ago: High Baldy Triangle (a.k.a Colossus per Bob). Sure enough, the due-north aspect yielded perfect corn at noon, yet another stellar spring run down to Eye of the Needle Chute and back to the base. As we made our final turns, it was peculiar to hear the "click, click, click" of sleds cruising down the resort's summer alpine slide as we skied. Two runs, 7,480 vertical feet, and 4 hours after we began, we were all toast.
Yet another perfect June day in the Wasatch!
(I've got lots and lots of photos for you today -- too many, but a mere fraction of what I took. I'll split them amongst two posts to improve page loading performance -- the second post only for the additional photos is here.)
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