This week in skiing

Ok, I am a little behind on entries.  What can I say, I had skiing and my lovely girlfriend to occupy me and time simply got away.  I think any rational human being would let this one slide.

In any event, here is the wrap up.  After a wonderful day of skiing at Powder Mountain on the Friday after we arrived we sat things out on Saturday as temperatures dropped and the wind howled.  Lucky for us my step-sister Ellyn was in Park City with her youngest daughter, Rachel, who was competing at the Junior Nationals Freestyle Jumping competition.  Her oldest daughter Jessica had also flown in from NYC fresh off a trip to Switzerland where she and a friend had been skiing on and around the Matterhorn.  So we drove about an hour south and met up with them and had a very nice day poking around at Park City.  I particularly enjoyed Jupiter Bowl and the steep terrain and soft snow we found there as warm Utah snow beamed down.

After skiing all day and losing Rachel somewhere in the beckoning steep snow of the trees (don't worry-she resurfaced) we all met up for dinner at the Wasatch Brewery in Park City.  I tried to rack my brain how long it had been since I had seen Jessica.  I would guess at least 15 years and now she was graduated from college and working full time at Moody's.  With a similar explorers spirit and a great sense of humor I think we quickly re-connected and I hope we can meet up again soon and ski together. 

From there Elizabeth and I headed into Salt Lake City where we were booked to stay at the Hilton for the next 3 nights.  This would give us a central location from which to base ourselves and explore the ski areas located in Big and Little Cottonwood Canyons.

Monday was cold and overcast but we rallied and got ourselves headed up Big Cottonwood Canyon toward Brighton ski area after a rousing breakfast at the Denny's around the corner.  Ok, maybe we dragged a bit due the weather but by 10 am we were on our skis.  It took a bit of doing but eventually we found some soft untracked snow off the Crest Express, below Pioneer Ridge.  In fact, it was during one of those runs I answered my cell phone and accepted my new job working in the Swedish Medical Center Urgent Care in Redmond, WA.

Elizabeth was a real trooper as I dragged her down Scree Slope, a double black diamond off the Milly Express that led up towards Mt Millicent.  It turned out to be a lot more steep and scoured than it appeared from the lift but she made it down without a hitch despite having freeheel gear.  Her beautiful smile never let up for a minute and in spite of less than ideal conditions we had a great time and ended our day with a beer at Molly's, a cozy bar set in the upper floor of the old frame at the base area.

Back in SLC we hunted out a recommended restaurant called the Bayou on South State Street and not too far from the hotel.  The food and drink was excellent and we even got a little schooling about the 3.2% beer of Utah and the laws about brewing from the bar list that contained over 400 different beer options on order.

Tuesday dawned more promising.  Some high clouds drifted by but the sun was starting to light up the Oquirrh Mountains west of the city across the valley and we were hopeful that this day would be more promising.  We made good time reaching Little Cottonwood Canyon and as we ascended traces of fresh snow began to reveal themselves.  Perhaps they had picked up a few inches overnight we thought.  This was confirmed as we crested the rise and Snowbird Came in to view followed by Alta.

When we arrived folks were already lined up to load the Collins Chair though the rope had not yet been dropped.  After the initial surge made its way up the hill we too followed suit and ended up at the top of a high half-cirque with a dazzling amount of terrain unfolding before us.  We started off by following the Sugarloaf chair and picked some wonderful lines before working into Devil's Castle and then Catherine's.

Elizabeth peeled off after lunch to attend a 2 plus hour telemark class while I dropped into the backside and Greeley's before ending my day in the Ballroom followed by a straight line to the Gold Miners daughter and a cold beer.  I was impressed by how much her telemark skiing improved in that very short period of time, though truth be told she is an excellent Alpine Skier, so I shouldn't be surprised.

Wednesday was much of the same though the snow was a bit more tracked up but we managed to find soft pockets here and there and drier snow in less sun affected aspects.  Thankfully Alta has such a wide variety or terrain and aspects that we could always fine good snow.

After a long day we drove north back to Eden and Powder Mountain.  Wanting to give Elizabeth a little taste of the more difficult and wilder terrain Rick and I took her up Lightening Ridge via Snowcat before we skinned up James Peak, the tallest point at Powder Mtn. at 9,422 ft.  She seemed to really enjoy the skin though the snow was a little heavy in places as the temperatures were getting into the 40's and the sun was really softening things up. 

Friday was even warmer so the skiing was essentially restricted to inbounds skier packed slopes, otherwise either poles or skis would punch through the snow to what seemed like hollow layers below.  In the end though we made the best of it and to celebrate what had been a great week we went to the Shooting Star in Huntsville for a burger and beer.  Rumor has it is the oldest continuously functioning bar west of the Mississippi, running even through prohibition because supposedly the local sheriff owned it.
 

 Saturday meant that I had to put Elizabeth on a plane back to NH.  She had responsibilities and a job to return to while I would continue my ski journey for another month before heading back home.  It was a difficult goodbye and I miss her dearly but I am in such a better place at this point in my life vs just one year ago and this was something I needed to do for myself as I knew in the long run this would make our relationship healthier.

Hello Utah

After arriving late on March the 7th Elizabeth and I said a quick hello to Rick then headed off to bed.  I had clearly made some errors in booking the travel from New Hampshire to Utah but that was now a thing of the past.  We stored our gear in the small guestroom, flopped down into bed and pulled the covers up tight to our chins and drifted off.

The sun was peeking out of some high clouds when I scanned the mountains above the valley floor where we now sat.  After a quick breakfast and a bit of a hasty organizing of our lunch, clothing and packs we caught the 9AM shuttle to catch up with Rick who had already headed up to Powder Mountain.  Outside the main lodge we clicked into our bindings and skied down to the Timberline lift.  It was great to make graceful tele-turns in the soft, edge-able snow as smiles formed on our faces.  After a few runs we met up with Rick and poked about in different areas feeling out the mountain and its wide variety of terrain.  At first I struggled a bit to control my longer powder skis but then that old familiar rhythm began to fall in to place and my muscle memory kicked in as I made better turns in deeper snow on steeper aspects.  It was nice to be back and I would need this "flight time" to be ready for my week in the Selkirk Mountains come April.

The Wasatch Mountains around the greater Salt Lake Area contain (depending on who is counting) 9 major ski areas as well as endless backcountry options.  Elizabeth and I planned to do some exploring during the 9 days she would be here with me before returning to the real world of a job, bills, kids and a myriad of other responsibilities. Still, the snow amounts were down again this year so we hoped that typically snowy March would deliver while she was here.  She had been working hard to improve her telemark skills and I really wanted her to experience that "dance" with the mountain that occurs when fresh snow slides beneath your skis.

Later that evening as we sipped cocktails in the hot tub and chatted with other skiers about their day I soaked in that vibe that develops as strangers connect about that universal purpose that brings us here, skiing and the mountains.   How lucky am I?

And...we're off

And...we’re off

Last night I checked and rechecked my packing list while consciously keeping in mind the weight
limit of my bag. It is never easy to fully anticipate needs when you are traveling for 6 weeks.
Luckily this trip is basically geared around one activity. Skiing. That said, I still needed to pack
plenty of warm clothes and safety gear including shovel, probe and avalanche beacon plus my
usual menagerie of camera gear and a laptop.
In the last few weeks leading up to this moment I have logged onto the internet countless times
to view snow reports in Utah, peruse the avalanche reports and see what others are posting on
facebook and Youtube about the current state of the 20122013
ski season. So far it is looking
more favorable than what we experienced last year, though still dour by Utah standards. Here at
home in New England we have experienced a decent snow year with enough of the fluffy good
stuff to lay claim to a few good powder days but ahhh, the soft powder potential of the west
beckons. I suspect a lot of skiers practice a similar ritual as they consult the online weather
oracles in anticipation of epic conditions, face shots and bluebird days. Daydreams waffle
between silently gliding through glades of snow covered evergreens to sipping cold beers on the
outdoor deck while soaking up the warm rays of the sun. Damn those interruptions by needy
coworkers
when I’m in the “zone.” Don’t they know I’m using powerful imagery to perfect my
techniques.
At 2:50 am the alarm jolts us awake. The car is packed already so we need only to put coffee in
travel mugs and get ourselves dressed. At the bus station in N. Londonderry, NH my girlfriend
Libby and I stash our ski bags, boots and duffels under the bus and clamber aboard. This bus
connection means no paying exorbitant parking fees at Boston’s Logan Airport and offers the
possibility of a nap when you have to wake at such an early hour.
The weather is a little problematic today. A large storm front has swept across the midwest and
is now making its way into New England where it will sit in the Gulf of Maine and churn away for
the next few days bringing more snow. For us it means an hour long delay getting out of Boston
this morning and that creates a problem with our connection in Los Angeles.

And... we’re in standby mode

Why LA you ask? Simply because connecting in the middle of the country adds another layer of
possible weather delays in addition to what we face getting out of the northeast in the winter.
Had it not been for the hour delay all would have been ok as we touched down in sunny,
sixty degree
LA. However, our original airlines has no baggage transfer agreement with domestic
carriers so we have to claim our bags, haul them to a different terminal, recheck them, go
through security again, and take a shuttle to a distant terminal. Simply not possible with the time
remaining after we arrive.
Now, I can’t say that I wasn’t a little frustrated. I felt like an idiot for arranging the itinerary in this manner just to save a few bucks when we could have flown a more direct route through Phoenix
or Denver. With standby tickets in hand though we did the only thing delayed travelers on
vacation can do. We went and had a drink while I groused about my recent string of bad luck
traveling the airlines over the last few weeks. It was only 9 days ago that I got stranded in
Chicago overnight while en-route to Seattle for a job interview. A major winter storm managed to
hit in the paltry eighty minutes I sat waiting for a connecting flight and this resulted in literally
thousands of flights cancelled.
Fortunately two seats went unclaimed on a flight to Salt Lake City a few hours later. We touched
down around 7:30 pm central time, gathered our stuff, picked up the rental car and headed north
to Eden and the condo where my buddy Rick is staying for the months of February and March
while he skis himself silly at Powder Mountain. Exhausted but safe we collapsed into bed around
10 pm. As the last moments of conscious awareness filtered through my head I wondered what
tomorrow would bring and how it would feel to be back skiing the fine dry snow of Utah. I would
get my answer soon enough.

Ok, generally I don't like to share "horror" stories but travel horror stories somehow tweek that collective nerve in all of us because from time to time we all find ourselves stranded and doing what we can to make the best of a crummy situation.

So a few weeks back I was invited to come out to Seattle for an interview in an urgent care clinic.  The potential employer would make arrangements for my flights and rental car.  Being a practical individual and wanting to maximize my time there exploring other possible options I agreed to meet with another organization while here.

One the appointed day I woke at 4:15 to catch a bus to Boston and my flight which would connect me in Chicago.  Time was tight between between my arrival and departure in Chicago, but I had enough time to get a sandwich and freshen up a bit.  Just as we began to board someone shook up the snow globe and suddenly you couldn't even see the terminal across the way.  All de-iced and loaded up we taxied out and waited our turn to take off.  Unfortunately that turn never arrived as the captain informed us there was too much snow on the runway to both safely and legally take off.  Screw legally, you had me at safely pal.

So we returned to the gate to await the word of the tower.  Eventually they said our flight was cancelled and had us get off.  Now, what you need to know is that I was carrying all my luggage with me, but on the flight out of Chicago they ran out of room in the overhead bins so I had to check my bag and leave it on the jetway.  Normally this works well because they simply pull that bag right off and give it back to you as you exit the plane.  Well, that didn't happen.  So, I waited along with everyone else, to see the agent and both claim my bag and get a new flight booked.  After about an hour I arrived in front of Mr. Wright (that's what his name tag said, no joke).  He explained that my bag had ended up in "general population" while he pecked away to find me another flight, all the while taking pity on me as I tried my best to calmly explain that my interview suit was in the bag now MIA.  He secured me a seat on a flight leaving at 8:10 that evening and put in an order for my bag to be delivered at claim #5.  No problem, the bag should arrive in about an hour.  I walked away pretty satisfied with this outcome.

This is where things start to unravel a bit. Down at baggage claim #5 other folks began to congregate and when 60 minutes had come and gone I inquired about my bag and was now told it could take another 1-2 hours before it would arrive.  I could feel my blood pressure staring to rise as I had visions of interviewing in jeans or a frantic trip to Men's Warehouse where I would throw myself at the feet of the in-house tailor and plead my case.  To add to my frustrations I discovered from other passengers milling about and enjoying a similar plight that my 8:10 flight out was now cancelled.  Dashing back upstairs I got in a que to see an agent and get to the bottom of this rumor. Talking on my cell phone with my friend Kevin in Seattle and filling him in on my current state I found myself being jostled, bumped and generally annoyed by a fat woman with an even fatter suitcase who clearly was in a hurry to go no where in a line that was moving at a snails pace.  Now I don't generally lose my shit on complete strangers and I would like to say I did exercise some degree of modicum when I turned on her like a caged badger, politely interrupted my conversation with Kevin, and gave her a little lashing about personal space.  Satisfied I went back to my conversation.

The agent did her best to try and help me and in the end I was able to be routed through Los Angeles on a flight leaving at 7 am which turned out to be much better than what other folks faced.  Hotel voucher in hand I worked my phone to re-schedule my interviews while awaiting my bag.  That process took another two and a half hours and it wasn't until about 6:30 pm that I finally had my bad in hand.  Getting a shuttle to the hotel proved to be a difficult task as well.  It seemed like everyone at the airport had gotten vouchers for the same hotel and so when a single, small van approached the driver was nearly crushed as people descended on him like a pack of wild dogs.  In the end the folks without luggage ended up with seats as the rest of us had to ensure our luggage got in the back and that meant we couldn't be in two places at once.  As the full van pulled away, five of us stood scratching our heads at the curb feeling like we had just been promised a date with a super model only to have gotten Olive Oil. 

After weighing our options we decided to wait the hour that it would take the driver to make another circuit.  I felt particularly bad for a nice gentleman from Finland who had been beaten out on two shuttle runs to the hotel by overly pushy Americans hell bent on getting to the bar first.  With a plan hatched we set ourselves up to get seats on the next run and it was a damn good thing since it ended up being a complete do-over when our ride arrived.  However, one of the nice Canadians discovered that his bag had not gotten on the van when we arrived at the hotel and he was forced to endure a trip bag to the terminal to see if luck would prevail.  I don't know how that turned out.

Finally, after waiting some more to check in I was able to lay my head down on a pillow at 8:30 pm.  It was a brief sleep however since I was up at 3:15 to catch a 4 am shuttle back to the airport for a 7 am flight.  This was the only shuttle still promising seats so I had little options outside of taking a $45 taxi.   Fortunately my morning flight got out fine and passed over lush, green irrigated valleys bathed in a brillant morning sun before landing at LAX. 

At LAX I discovered that if you have to change terminals you have to exit security and go through a complete re-screen to get back into the boarding area.  Because I was switching from American Airlines to Alaska I not only had to be re-screened but also had to hoof-it from terminal E to A and I was on a tight schedule. 

Now, a few times I have had to walk fast to make a connection but never have I run like a madman and I always thought that those people who did just didn't plan well.  Wrong!  I actually lost count of how many times I went through security on this trip but I am waiting to see if my genitalia suffer any repercussions of multiple x-rays and body scans.  In the end I made the flight with time to spare and landed safely in Seattle at 2 pm. 

From there I hustled my way to a shuttle to pick up my rental car.  "Down one level and pick out any mid-size car.  The keys will be in it and you check out with the gate."   Simple enough.  Except there were no mid-size cars, only economy, compact, full size, SUV's, mini-vans.  Uggg!  Pulling my roller-bag I navigated through a sea of cars in a herculean sized parking garage to find an attendant.  I had to get to Kevin's house to get cleaned up and dressed for a 4:30 interview and there was no telling what traffic would be like.  Understanding my plight, Bruce, the nice attendant told me to take any other car.  I sped off and to my delight discovered traffic wasn't bad.  Ultimately I made my meeting on-time and it went very well.

Looking back I realize that at times I could become someone I didn't like.  Irritable, demanding, unrealistic and agitated.  Upset about things beyond my control and the control of others.  Try as I do with good intentions and awareness I still slip up and become the proverbial Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, unable to surrender myself to the realities of what traveling can be from time to time.