Every ski season is different. Even before the world broke and we went into a 20-year mega drought, the likes of which haven’t been seen in 1,200 years, the concept of a “normal” winter required a fairly wide bracket. We used to get big storms, 12 to 18 inches, several times every winter. When I built my house, I used to set the alarm on stormy nights to get up and plow the road out to the highway because the old Dodge could easily push 8 inches, but pretty much died if I let it build up to 12 (tire chains on all four — misery). That doesn’t happen anymore, and it has more to do with the change in the storms than upgrading my equipment.
This winter is unique in its lameness. We basically went for all of January and February without snow. Yeah, there were a couple of inches here and there. Those were enough to work miracles with the ski conditions. But there was nothing that would have merited calling in sick to go skiing. The groomers have figured it out, and have been able to mill the skiffs of new snow into the very tired old snow, and come up with a pretty acceptable blend. Driving a groomer appears to be an art — getting the speed just right, the implement set to the perfect depth, adjusting all of it for the temperature. It’s not something you learn on the first night. I suspect it’s much like plowing a field. It takes a generation to learn where the rocks and soft spots are. Anyway, both resorts have done a great job with that this season.
One common thread to a lifetime of skiing has been “the run.” Every year, there is one run that makes the season. You can’t plan it. You never know when it will happen. When it does, you feel the full, deep-down joy of skiing. There is a sense that even if the season ended that very minute, it would have been a good ski season. Some years, it’s a powder day in early December. Other years, it’s hitting that Zen-like state when linking telemark turns, top to bottom, through slushy spring moguls on Empire Bowl. I might have skied the same line the day before and thought it was OK, and then, for no obvious reason, the next trip down the same line is “the run” for the season.
Some years “the run” comes too soon, and the rest of the season, no matter how good, feels a bit like cleaning up because the apex run is already in the books. Other years, it gets pretty deep in the season before finding it. And sometimes, it happens without even knowing it happened, and a month later, it hits me that I’d hit gold and not even realized it at the time.
I got “the run” this week. I haven’t been in Jupiter more than a couple of times all season. People tell me it’s been “OK” without a lot of conviction. In a year without snow, it’s been thin and crunchy. Coaxing friends up there has been difficult. This week a couple of us decided we’d best get it while it’s still there. At the rate things are melting, who knows how long it will last. It was soft and really good despite thin cover. We celebrated the return of Scott’s Bowl to the resort after a lease dispute had closed most of it. In a year where there is little to celebrate at PCMR, the reopening of Scott’s stands out. Not many people ski it because it requires a bit of a hike, and is pretty steep. So losing the lease on it wasn’t affecting the overall resort much. Abandoning several lifts certainly did more damage. But bringing it back into the resort felt like something was finally going right.
Anyway, we hiked Scott’s three times in sync with a kid who was singing along with Garth Brooks on his headphones. With or without friends in low places, it was very good skiing. There were dares about back-flips off the cornice before finding an age-appropriate way to slide in, both skis on the snow. It was so good that we decided to hike Jupiter Peak, and get that box checked for the season.
And that was “the run” for the season. I didn’t ski it well. In fact, I made a mess of it. There were rocks sticking up in sort of critical places, and the path to the very top of the peak, with the Tibetan prayer flags on it, was blown off and bare. We had to kind of cheat our way into the chute from the side. After a couple of desperation turns, I got past the boulders and the rest was bliss.
I’m off my pace to get 100 days this year. It’s been hard to keep it interesting; day after day on groomers; battling for parking and lift lines. I’ve basically given up skiing on weekends. Maybe it will snow in March. It could happen. But if it doesn’t, I got “the run” and a perfectly satisfying ski season.
Tom Clyde practiced law in Park City for many years. He lives on a working ranch in Woodland and has been writing this column since 1986.