Some people may call our obsession with powder skiing crazy. Insane. Childish. These people will never be able to understand why, for instance, we drove 900 miles south to be present for a storm at our home mountain, Wolf Creek. They would call us ridiculous for getting to bed at 2:15am, just to rise again at 6am to finish the drive to the mountain. But those people have no idea what it feels like to have a wide open, untracked 30″ pure weightless snow run, all to themselves. They would probably agree with us, and maybe find themselves doing similar things, if they had ever surfed the face of Alberta, having snow wash over them on every turn, not being able to take a breath, and literally choking on snowflakes. For that serene thirty seconds, it is worth 18 hours and 1,000 miles in the truck. And it doesn’t have to end there. We had an entire day to find as many bottomless runs as we could. It proved a bit tricky. We had to keep reminding ourselves that although we had already skied over 100″ of storm snow this year, this was the first significant snowfall for the San Juans. This weightless 30″ was sitting on the ground; there was no solid base of snow to ski on. So we had to pick runs where we could keep our tips up and avoid rocks, stumps and downed trees.
It continued to snow all day long. We were surrounded by like-minded people, and on the lift we met many who understood our addiction. We met folks from Villa Grove, Del Norte, A-Basin and Pagosa Springs. Everyone was appreciating this day, this moment, when the worries of everyday life slip from your mind and the only thing that matters is the joy feeding your spirit. Everyone felt so lucky, sharing this blizzard-like day together. By the time we got back to the truck, there were nine more inches of snow on the tailgate, and it was still stacking up. Looks like tomorrow should be another day to live in the moment.