Turns out Scott wasn’t the only one back from the dead, as winter has reminded us it can still drop a storm in the Wasatch even if it’s been 70 degrees plus in the valley and the calendar claims it’s spring. Alta reported 22 inches.
Conditions were such that nobody wanted to be left out of the party. With UDOT bombing the North side of the canyon, that left Scottie’s Bowl as the target for the feeding frenzy.
Between our group and the guys from Black Diamond, we had a dozen headlamps making their way up the hill in the dark. A dozen more from various other parties arrived soon thereafter. The BD guys were the first on the trail by a few minutes and laid a nice skin track for the rest of us. I managed to bridge and followed them to the top.
Never content to drop anything less than the most aesthetic line, the BD guys hiked to the true summit, while I was content with a chute off the shoulder. A quick ski cut across the top to check stability, and then I dropped for first tracks. Delicious.
At the bottom of the bowl, I could see my crew still on the skin track. If I hurried, I could get a bonus lap.
Back at the top everyone de-skinned and Ian, Dug’s 14-year-old son, prepared to drop his first line in the BC. I wouldn’t be intimidated by this cornice, would you?
Ian sent it and looked like a pro.
Which left Dug and me standing at the top of the cornice.
“You gonna drop this?” I asked.
“Thinking about it. Wanna go first?”
“Be my guest.”
I felt like a penguin sending my brother into the water first to see if there were sharks.
Sure enough, a shark grabbed Dug’s ski as soon as he hit the deep snow. He tried to find it to no avail. I told him “I bet if I drop in, I’ll land right on top of it.”
Before you criticize us for our spazzy arms in the photos, bear in mind we’re starting from a standstill and had to push off with our poles. I promise we were able to get our hands in front and stick the landing. Seth Morrison would have been proud. We just don’t have any proof. There. Now I feel better.
With snow that deep, you don’t really land and ski out of it. You land and sink. I felt a clunk as I did so, looked down, and there was Dug’s ski, right between mine.
One more time back down, and we had a car full of happy people on the way home.
3,100 vertical and to work 45 minutes before my first meeting of the morning. I’ve skied so much powder this winter, it’s starting to get embarrassing.
A big thank you to Adam's camera (which was passed around) and Bob for the photos this morning. Bob stood there freezing his fingers off to get all those photos at the top of the cornice. And Adam’s so talented with photoshop, he could probably make me actually look good in the air. OK, maybe not.