Day 51: "Winter" days don't get any better than this.
Deep blue skis, a warm (hot?) sun, no wind, and temperatures in the 30s made today feel like spring. I stripped down to my base layer top while having lunch outside on the Goldminer's Daughter deck and was comfortable, almost too warm.
I was skiing with Marc_C and Bob Dangerous along with friends Pat and Amy, John and John's friend Val, and our friend Patti Mac would join us from NYC by 11. It would've been an even better day if I would've had some energy today, but after Friday and Saturday's big days, followed by a 3-mile full-moon snowshoe in Big Cottonwood Canyon Saturday night, this morning I could barely get out of bed.
Today was thus a day by and large spent cruising groomers. The Alta Ski Patrol supplied the morning entertainment playing with some rather large firecrackers.
On our first ride up Collins the morning plan was evident: bomb the crap out of the old layers of sugar snow clinging to anything on Mount Baldy. The results of the morning cleared out Main Chute, Little Chute, and the entire "Yard" between the two, the latter down to bare rock. The debris field spread cross groomed portions of Main Street, and patrollers were spread out along the top of a massive crown at the summit where the slides had released.
Their biggest work, though, was yet to come.
I'm so sorry that I missed the huge one. Bob got to see it as I waited for Bob at the bottom of Collins, out of view. The entire Baldy Shoulder let go with a single hand charge, and the debris field ran clear down the shoulder, out across the Main Street flats, and over the top starting just a little bit down the last pitch of Main Street. Bob reports that the entire bowl filled with a cloud of snow hanging 300 feet high.
After lunch we rode Supreme to ski Challenger, and I broke off from the group for one run through the top gate of White Squaw Chutes (noticing for the first time a memorial plaque to a fallen skier at the top). The way my legs and body felt, though, I feared becoming the subject of the next plaque, so I bid the group farewell and skied to my truck at 1:30 after only 6 runs and 10,210 verts. No matter, though, for I enjoyed the best of the goods Friday and Saturday.
Sure enough, I slept until 5. :roll:
Deep blue skis, a warm (hot?) sun, no wind, and temperatures in the 30s made today feel like spring. I stripped down to my base layer top while having lunch outside on the Goldminer's Daughter deck and was comfortable, almost too warm.
I was skiing with Marc_C and Bob Dangerous along with friends Pat and Amy, John and John's friend Val, and our friend Patti Mac would join us from NYC by 11. It would've been an even better day if I would've had some energy today, but after Friday and Saturday's big days, followed by a 3-mile full-moon snowshoe in Big Cottonwood Canyon Saturday night, this morning I could barely get out of bed.
Today was thus a day by and large spent cruising groomers. The Alta Ski Patrol supplied the morning entertainment playing with some rather large firecrackers.
On our first ride up Collins the morning plan was evident: bomb the crap out of the old layers of sugar snow clinging to anything on Mount Baldy. The results of the morning cleared out Main Chute, Little Chute, and the entire "Yard" between the two, the latter down to bare rock. The debris field spread cross groomed portions of Main Street, and patrollers were spread out along the top of a massive crown at the summit where the slides had released.
Their biggest work, though, was yet to come.
I'm so sorry that I missed the huge one. Bob got to see it as I waited for Bob at the bottom of Collins, out of view. The entire Baldy Shoulder let go with a single hand charge, and the debris field ran clear down the shoulder, out across the Main Street flats, and over the top starting just a little bit down the last pitch of Main Street. Bob reports that the entire bowl filled with a cloud of snow hanging 300 feet high.
After lunch we rode Supreme to ski Challenger, and I broke off from the group for one run through the top gate of White Squaw Chutes (noticing for the first time a memorial plaque to a fallen skier at the top). The way my legs and body felt, though, I feared becoming the subject of the next plaque, so I bid the group farewell and skied to my truck at 1:30 after only 6 runs and 10,210 verts. No matter, though, for I enjoyed the best of the goods Friday and Saturday.
Sure enough, I slept until 5. :roll:
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