Whiteout

Only one way down. Knowing there is no escape once you’re at the top of the mountain is foreboding, exciting, and a rush all at once. I’m on the ski slopes for pure fun but it doesn’t make my upcoming venture any less dangerous. I’m loaded up with gear and trying to push my way into a swinging metal box. Along with everyone else, I’m crammed into my ride up the mountain. I get the odd feeling I know of being a bit too hot and a bit too cold at the same time but only briefly because today it’s just amazingly cold. As I’m loaded into the mass of bodies the worry about the temperature subsides. The doors slide shut, I feel the floor beneath me shudder, look through the ski-scratched windows to see only pure white, and with a jolt I’m weightless moving through the storm.

The looks on the faces of everyone in the tram convey one feeling; excitement. It doesn’t matter that helmets, goggles, and ski masks cover eyes and smiles. I can see the emotion in everyone I look at. We aren’t just here for a normal ski day. It’s a blizzard, a powder day, an epic whiteout. Utah is in the middle of a massive snowstorm and Snowbird Mountain has gained 2 feet of snow in the last 18 hours and it isn’t stopping anytime soon. Hell yes. Everyone in the tram has woken up early, driven through the dark and snow, and gotten themselves onto the mountain to pursue something awesome in the truest sense of the word; extremely impressive or daunting. Everyone in the tram is a REAL skier and it is evident. Only one way down is available to us and we all know it and love it. It doesn’t matter that the winds blow our tram left and right. It doesn’t matter that the cold is painfully biting exposed skin and freezing our breath in front of our faces. It doesn’t matter that the views people travel the world to see are nonexistent and are being replaced solely by a blizzard. What matters is skiing and at that point, nothing is stopping us from accomplishing this.

I get off the tram with my friends and see groups of bundled-up skiers trickling into the white void ahead of us. They disappear one after the other and with a look and a nod shared between us, we follow suit. The back bowls in Snowbird are some of skiing’s best and even though the tram ride is over we still have to finish our trip up to the bowls with a hike. Poles go in one hand and skis go over the opposite shoulder and off we go. Each skier turned hiker follows closely to the person in front of them to not lose sight of the person or the trail itself. For those who showed up unprepared, myself included, any hike like this one is no joke. The altitude, feet of snow, and layers of clothing as well as gear combine to make the trek one to remember. We finally arrive at a random spot at the top of a bowl that we possessively select as ours. I’ll never forget that feeling. Catching our breath is a necessity so we take a break in the best way possible; we plop down in the powder and sit on the mountain talking amongst each other and trying to make sense of the abyss we can barely see straight down in front of us.

Dropping into the powder is bliss. With untouched lines as far as we can see and powder snow that reaches our hips, the skiing is dreamlike. It’s well worth the effort to get onto the slopes. I glide down nonstop slopes with my legs firing like pistons. Moving through both trees and wide open snowscapes is not effortless at all but that’s the best way to do it. It’s a great feeling. The first run takes over two hours and we spend the rest of the day scouring the terrain for new spots along the bowl. Everywhere we go is untouched. Down we go over and over again just to regroup at the small mid-mountain lift and go right back up.