Pajarito-Bred
New member
My 50th birthday present of a day skiing at Silverton didn't look too promising from a snow-and-weather perspective for Sunday. A warm and sunny Saturday was followed by a single inch of morning fresh, with a few flurries tossed about in the wind as we headed up from town to the base of the chairlift. But maybe our guide would have some hidden stashes in mind. With the guided skiing, it's required (or at least a damn good idea) to reserve a spot well in advance, with the important caveat that if Red Mountain Pass is closed (but the passes from Durango are open) you've got to drive around in the same storm or forfeit your spot. Red Mountain is closed often enough that they'd have trouble staying in business if it were managed otherwise. We defeated that issue by arriving the day before.
I showed up with the req'd avy gear, and visited the base lodge to find a guide and group, and to sign the waiver that I knew what the heck I was getting myself into. The lodge is furnished with the most elegant dirtbag chic imaginable, bargained from some Durango junkyard. I reported myself as a fast skier/hiker and was assigned to a guide along with a multinational group.
After the required safety talk, our guide decided that since the weather was windy and snowy at the top, but forecast to deteriorate even more, we'd best get our toughest hike (and ski) out of the way first. The lift climbs 1900 vert feet out of the canyon to the lower end of the ridge, and much of the skiing begins after hiking up and along the ridge. From the map, I'd assumed a moderate stroll up and along, my primary experience being the moderately steep bootpack of Aspen Highlands bowl.
The San Juan ridges are quite a bit bonier though, and we climbed two short (about 40 ft) steep fixed-rope pitches with cornices and rock crevices on one side, and steep rock/snow on the other.
Our plan for the first run was Billboard #4, about 700 vertical feet above the top of the chair. By the time we reached the traverse point the wind and spindrifted snow made for very challenging visibility. The “billboard” is a microwave repeater at the top, #4 is the chute just to the right. Our guide explained the route (45 degrees, 15 ft wide), skied down about 400 ft, and waved us down one at a time. Definitely not a spot for two at once. Finally my turn, a few jump turns, then a very challenging slot with plenty of sluff riding along, and better-better-better avoid those few choice pointy rocks right in the center. The wind, visibility, terrain, and snow made for about the most intense challenge I’ve ever skied, down and out of the chute to re-group.
We escaped the bottom of the chute by smearing our skis across some gravelly tundra, down onto a ridge of micro-trees, back into the gully. There’s a 40-ft long twisty pitch that we sideslipped (barely wide enough for my skis) and then a narrow gully runout in several inches of fluff, nicely hiding the firm foundation. Back to the road, the shuttle van, and back to the lift. WOW. It’s nearly noon, one run, and I’m sorta beat! A quick bite of lunch, and back for more—this time a short 5 minute hike over to the back side, and down a tightly gladed ridge called Raff, and into a great, steep chute, ending at the creek, with a short bootback up to the traverse. Not so much new snow on this side, last few turns were quite crusty. Repeat, next door on Riff, no hike this time The weather actually clearing out a bit. Last (4th) run, we hiked up to the last spine before the Billboard, and found (our guide found) some fabulous windbuff, down into powder in Concussion Woods. The guides are constantly in communication with each other and with patrol over weather and snow conditions.
The Silverton experience was simply amazing, and I’m hoping to make it back for unguided (or, guided…) skiing in April. I don’t think this kind of terrain could be even be safely skiable without having the day-to-day knowledge of the snow conditions that the guides have. It’s some serious terrain. The Silvertonmountain.com website has plenty of info on what to expect. Expect nothing but a pure, intense skiing experience.
New snow conditions ranged from foot-deep windbuff, to less than zero on the ridges, much much better than could be expected from the previous 24 hours of weather. The end-of-day report read 5 inches, but the drive home over Red Mountain pass, just the next canyon over, was on dry roads with only a few flurries.
I showed up with the req'd avy gear, and visited the base lodge to find a guide and group, and to sign the waiver that I knew what the heck I was getting myself into. The lodge is furnished with the most elegant dirtbag chic imaginable, bargained from some Durango junkyard. I reported myself as a fast skier/hiker and was assigned to a guide along with a multinational group.
After the required safety talk, our guide decided that since the weather was windy and snowy at the top, but forecast to deteriorate even more, we'd best get our toughest hike (and ski) out of the way first. The lift climbs 1900 vert feet out of the canyon to the lower end of the ridge, and much of the skiing begins after hiking up and along the ridge. From the map, I'd assumed a moderate stroll up and along, my primary experience being the moderately steep bootpack of Aspen Highlands bowl.
The San Juan ridges are quite a bit bonier though, and we climbed two short (about 40 ft) steep fixed-rope pitches with cornices and rock crevices on one side, and steep rock/snow on the other.
Our plan for the first run was Billboard #4, about 700 vertical feet above the top of the chair. By the time we reached the traverse point the wind and spindrifted snow made for very challenging visibility. The “billboard” is a microwave repeater at the top, #4 is the chute just to the right. Our guide explained the route (45 degrees, 15 ft wide), skied down about 400 ft, and waved us down one at a time. Definitely not a spot for two at once. Finally my turn, a few jump turns, then a very challenging slot with plenty of sluff riding along, and better-better-better avoid those few choice pointy rocks right in the center. The wind, visibility, terrain, and snow made for about the most intense challenge I’ve ever skied, down and out of the chute to re-group.
We escaped the bottom of the chute by smearing our skis across some gravelly tundra, down onto a ridge of micro-trees, back into the gully. There’s a 40-ft long twisty pitch that we sideslipped (barely wide enough for my skis) and then a narrow gully runout in several inches of fluff, nicely hiding the firm foundation. Back to the road, the shuttle van, and back to the lift. WOW. It’s nearly noon, one run, and I’m sorta beat! A quick bite of lunch, and back for more—this time a short 5 minute hike over to the back side, and down a tightly gladed ridge called Raff, and into a great, steep chute, ending at the creek, with a short bootback up to the traverse. Not so much new snow on this side, last few turns were quite crusty. Repeat, next door on Riff, no hike this time The weather actually clearing out a bit. Last (4th) run, we hiked up to the last spine before the Billboard, and found (our guide found) some fabulous windbuff, down into powder in Concussion Woods. The guides are constantly in communication with each other and with patrol over weather and snow conditions.
The Silverton experience was simply amazing, and I’m hoping to make it back for unguided (or, guided…) skiing in April. I don’t think this kind of terrain could be even be safely skiable without having the day-to-day knowledge of the snow conditions that the guides have. It’s some serious terrain. The Silvertonmountain.com website has plenty of info on what to expect. Expect nothing but a pure, intense skiing experience.
New snow conditions ranged from foot-deep windbuff, to less than zero on the ridges, much much better than could be expected from the previous 24 hours of weather. The end-of-day report read 5 inches, but the drive home over Red Mountain pass, just the next canyon over, was on dry roads with only a few flurries.
