A Day for Smiles and Warm Memories
December 15th, 2009Posted in Skiing in the Tetons
The promised snowstorm delivered a much needed blanket of snow to the Teton Range this weekend, not enough to provide “go anywhere” skiing, but enough to allow Grand Targhee to successfully open at least the more northerly facing aspects of its main mountain. My off snow life is still pretty hectic so I waited until Sunday to take this season’s first lift rides.
First days now stir the same sorts of warm memories and emotions that returning to a childhood home can. Everything needed is where it used to be, just like it was last season, or ten years ago. No need to search and pillage, just grab and go. Rock skis, boots, poles, helmet and lift pass. A deep breath and a strong blow clears the summer’s dust off the boot bag. Everything else is good to go. Long johns, fleece, ski pants gloves, and parka all still fit just like last year. And they fell so good and natural to slip on, like returning from a long trip and slipping in to home’s familiar sheets and bed. As I struggle with the always cranky bottom zipper pull on my parka I remember my mother zipping me into a snowsuit when I was three or four and first discovering the delights of snow. My lifetime love affair with snow and winter got a real early start- and is still going strong.
With the snowstorm still in full swing I expected to find a good stream of cars joining me on the road to Targhee and I wasn’t disappointed! By the time I reached the ski area’s parking lot I was deep in a caravan of about 30 vehicles stacked up behind a very cautious driver. I was in no hurry, there being no promise of first tracks in waist deep snow, so creeping along at 20 mph wasn’t frustrating like it can be. This being early December I was still able to park only a 100 yards from the base lodge.
Another wave of nostalgia hit as I buckled up my boots and easily found the right buckle setting to grasp my feet firmly and then stood up to feel the familiar loss of ankle flex and the various pressure points poking at places only ski boots do. Then I hit a little snag. I’d forgotten the last person to use my rock skis was my youngest son who has boots with a shorter sole base. A quick pat down of my parka revealed which pocket held the small screw driver I try to always carry for these situations, so a couple of minutes was all it took to allow my boots to click into the bindings.
Targhee’s lift was doing its usual vanishing act into the clouds about a thousand feet up the mountain, but I could see visibility wouldn’t be too bad since the clouds were not real thick or too dark looking. All around the base plaza there were smiling faces as fellow skiers hurried into their gear and skated off to the lift. I think one of the best things about skiing is that as a skier, about 99% of the time, I’m surrounded by happy people. Can that be said about golf, where frustration is too frequently seething just below the surface?
It was nice to see and greet Carol, the head mistress of the lift crew, busy checking tickets and passes. More familiar faces stared out through the glass from the Dreamcatcher lift’s control room. I shared my first lift ride with a poor fellow whose last day of skiing last season was at the end of February. I thought he must have injured himself, but no, he said his job at Teton Springs Resort had just gotten too busy. Beneath my goggles and helmet he failed to see my astonished look. He was a talker and by the time he paused to catch a breath he was focused on the current season and how he was going to ski more. Good for him. Another wonderful thing about skiing is the easy camaraderie chairlift rides provide. You never know what you’ll hear or who you’ll meet. As long as they don”t start to light up a cigarette, I’m good to enjoy anyone’s company. I’ve met some of my best friends on lift rides and learned some pretty amazing things!
Unloading at the top of the mountain there was no grand vista to enjoy. The fog was limiting viz to about 100 feet- actually not a bad thing for a first run when my goal was to reactivate the snow sensors in my feet. Years ago I used to have some trepidation about the first day back on skis each year. Would I remember how to ski? Would I remember the things I was finally doing right at the end of the last season or would I have to figure it out again? Now the basics are as ingrained as walking, but it is still nice to feel the skis respond to the subtle pressuring of the edges. Even beat up, semi-edgeless rock skis will carve a turn in the soft new snow I find under my skis.
After a couple hundred yards the summer dust and grime has been wipe free from the ski bottoms and I flatten them and find the gouged bottoms are still slippery enough to easily slide back and forth under me. All systems are go so I decide my inaugural run will be down Good Medicine where there is some pitch and where I’ll soon be in the trees so I’ll have good visibility and deep snow. Clad in rock skis I decide I can go there via Rock Garden, but to my delight its rocks are buried and I enjoy easy cruising all the way to the far entrance to Good Medicine. One great advantage to skiing a home hill is the knowledge of where rocks are and where they aren’t when snow cover is thin. I’ve arrived at the place where I can avoid the rock ledge that rings most of the upper part of Good Medicine and my entrance is smooth and silent; no clicks or scrapes.
It’s great! Maybe not awesome, but really fine snow to enjoy on a first run of the season. Boot deep, mostly untracked and surprisingly light. I probably sported a very wide grin as I went into auto powder mode and sliced my way through it. Years ago I remember ski team coaches cautioning, if not out right demanding the young racers ease back into skiing and stay on the groomed runs early in the season. Thank God I recognized that as bad advice then- and now. Happily, lots of other skiers were easing back into their ski legs by staying on the groomers, leaving wide swaths of untracked for we less cautious folks.
My next ride up was with an old friend who told me the ski patrol had opened more terrain under the as yet not running Blackfoot lift. We took the high traverse and found acres and acres of untracked covered by at least a foot of good powder. My morning was set.
First days are always special. After months of anticipation, even an opening day on a mid-western hill covered only with man-made snow is a great day. I appreciate how lucky I am to frequently have real powder days for my first day of the year. Even luckier, I get to enjoy far better days, by the dozens, as par for the course around here- if the snow gods do their usual generous winter work in the Tetons.
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