Last night the wind howled so hard it shook the camper. Jon kept putting his hand on the ceiling, hoping the roof wouldn’t collapse on top of us. We were glad we had decided to come down in elevation. If we had camped at the summit, we probably would have blown away. When morning came, we made oatmeal and hot chocolate, then headed to the hill. We arrived early and couldn’t believe our eyes. The ski runs had been wiped clean; not a track remained from the day before. We couldn’t believe our luck. It was Saturday, so even though it was a small resort, it was bound to get busy. When we got into the growing lift line, there were four people ahead of us. As we stood waiting, we watched ski patrol come down the mountain cautiously, each taking their turn to ski cut the faces. When they dropped into their lines the snow came up to their wastes and they left trenches behind. They came up to the lift and cut the line to go back up and do it again. There was an uneven number of them, and it was only a couple minutes before they would drop the gate, so one of the patrollers called out for a single. One of the guys ahead of us said he’d go with and he got to ride up with patrol and get first tracks! It was awesome! Jon was so excited to see something like that happen that normally wouldn’t happen in Colorado! During those last couple minutes, the clouds cleared and the sun came out. Blue bird powder day.
Our first run we bombed down lift line. The snow had stayed cold and light, and there was even more of it! Next we ducked into the trees from the day before, and discovered it was bottomless in there too. We decided to do it again and this time Jon found a small pillow line to air off. When we got to the top again, we headed to Chair 2 and took a run that had been tracked out yesterday, but only had two lines down it before us now. After each run, we noticed it getting busier and busier. Even though there were not that many people, there were only 3 lifts out of 5 running, so it was getting tracked out significantly faster than yesterday. Still we managed to catch our stashes that we had discovered while they were still fresh. At 2pm it was 14 degrees out, and our legs were tired, so we decided to call it a day. On the way back to the truck, I stopped in the rental shop to see if they had any stickers. A nice, elderly gentlemen gave me a couple and asked me what I was going to stick them too. I told him about our camper and our trip and he was really excited for us. He told me the last time he had been to Canada, you had to sit down if you had a drink, and women were only allowed in bars if they were escorted by men. It must have been a long time ago. He also told me that Lost Trail gets about the same number of skier visits in one winter as some Colorado resorts get on Presidents Day. That little fact make me like this mountain even more.