From Week 1 to Weak One.

Posted: October 26, 2011 by bcbuzzards in Skiing
Tags: , ,

Fall on Millicent

Moving from week 1 into a weak one has been a de-evolution of a ski season. Initially, when the last (only) big dump to hit the Was-angles range this season was coming in I was totally going to sit it out. I had plans for the weekend. I was going to Jerry Joseph Thursday and Friday. I had class early Friday morning, and a big drive down south for the next show, and still had to drive home for the Ute game Saturday.

Besides, people get hurt and equipment gets destroyed that first big storm. “Last thing I need” I told a co-worker “are headlines reading LOCAL IDIOT PHIL and then the description of my various self sustained injuries.” No, this one I would sit out. Until Thursday came around that is. Then I decided it was seriously GO time. I dragged out my gear from it’s hiding place of 5 weeks and decided to begin my ski season Oct. 7th, with a little bit of “tour-lite”.

Making their last stand

Steal your line right offa' yo face...

I went up to Brighton, thinking the whole way that this was a poor idea. Little to no snow greeted me all the way up BCC, but tracks were in and Brighton locals (high-school drop-outs no doubt) were already dragging more foreign objects up the hillside to potential injur themselves on. I’ll assume because the chance of hitting rocks/trees/detritus wasn’t low enough with a 0” base. Two laps up the Crest Express chair left me feeling that my goal of ¼ of million feet vert. ascended this season might just be doable. The skiing wasn’t too bad, and that coupled with the fact one could almost make 0 turns following my route made for a pretty good day.

God's Lawnmower, lookin' good, if all you wanna do is look...

Arthur and I would find our way back up Sunday, a pre-work lap for me. I joyfully rapport that I will be off the Sunday AM shift making it now a PM one, meaning that instead of getting up at 5am for a pre-work lap I can get up at 5am for 3 pre-work laps. Brighton has installed some new snowmaking pipes, and there were large open holes about 3 feet around, and 3 feet deep exposed on the hillside. I pointed these out to Arthur was we toured up in the cover of darkness, then proceeded to unintentionally sail directly over the top of one coming down. The only thing that saved me from injury was my complete lack of self-control in keeping my speed in check, as I had promised myself I would.

bcbuzzard Arthur on the way up

Tuesday would find us back at it again at Alta, aka Traverse Mountain. Skiing was decent, and Baldy Main looked ready to go. But no, I summed up enough reason (well mostly Arthur did) to tell myself it is far from chuting season. The run out is low, and that’s how you hurt yourself.

bcbuzzard Arthur on the way up x2

Cue Arthur following me up a chute on the east side of Baldy Wednesday. I mean, really, you all saw that coming. I’m happy to report that about 2-3 feet of solid wind buff with a creamy layer on top was found, and rocks, tons and tons of rocks sticking out. This was the stuff chute-dreams are made of. It’s even easier to take chances like that when you don’t care at all about you gear. I mean I care, but my Karhu Storms have seen much, much better days. Namely, those better days ended last December off the backside of Brighton, when I clipped a rock fin under 8” of fresh at mach 3.5. One blow edge and two compressed edges resulted in my first pair of rock touring skis.

bcbuzzard Arthur on the up x3

Kiss the mountain air we breath

A lot of people (well Andrew M.) talk around here about how their skis aren’t talking to them after that first day or two of torture. My skis are quite different. We haven’t spoken since it hit 70 again in the valley and I threw them back down into the basement in disgust. Weak, weak, weak frickin’ sauce SLC. I tried to look at those first 4 days as just a bonus round. Now I’m glad I hit any days at all in October. Still the leaves are falling fast, and it’s always only a matter of time.

Soon, once more I shall beat the sunrise.


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