Day 1:
This day was as good as I had hoped for. Clear, blue skies and incredible skiing. My back is fine. It doesn't seem to be affected by skiing at all.
Dinner was excellent last night - soup, salad, steak and desert.
This morning we had a pretty long safety briefing. Everything from how to interact with the snow cat that we ride in to what to do if the place catches on fire. We each were issued transponders to wear. These are strapped to our bodies and are in "send" mode when you turn it on. It emits a signal that can be picked up by anyone else's transponder when their transponder is placed in "receive" mode. Then we went out side and practiced a rescue by tracking four buried transponders and learning how to use the probes and shovels we take with us.
It took me about two runs to get used to the Atomic Heli Daddy powder skis that I rented. Then they were fantastic. On our second run, out lead guy triggered a pretty good avalanche. Then he sent another of their guys to intentionally stomp on the area above. This is called "ski cutting," and, sure enough, it triggered another slide. It was quite impressive. That was as close as I want to get to an avalanche.
A lot of the area is very unstable, and we can't ski it. But there is still plenty for us to ski since there are 30,000 acres here for us to ski.
My roomate is Russ from San Francisco. He is snow boarding. I also hang out with a Canadian guy and his two kids (college age). There is a group of about six French people in our group - the 25 of us are split into two groups. They are nice, but they speak very little English.
DAY 2
We had another day of blue skies, although it has clouded up late, and we are hoping for some snow tonight. They wake us up with coffee in be, if you can believe that. Breakfast is at 0730. We make our lunch from a big buffet that they set out for us. We are dressed and ready to go at the cat outside the lodge at 0820, and we leave sharply at 0830. The first run is about 30 minutes later.
Each of the last two days, the first run is a real ass-kicker, with hard, icy snow and tight turns through trees. It just so happens that these are the closest runs, and they seem to want to get us skiing earlier. Subsequent runs are much nicer, usually starting above the tree line in wide open spaces and ending with a run through trees and unskied powder.
They took us to a place they had not skied this year. In fact, our lead guy, Larry, who looks sort of like Kramer on Seinfeld, told me he had never skied one particular run we took. My favorite run was down through a long gully with lots of little bumps and obstacles to ski around. About five of us went tearing down through the gully while everybody else went another way. The end of the run, however, was probably the most treacherous thing I have ever skied, with several large craters along the way. You have to watch out for "tree wells" here. These are areas around the base of trees where not much snow falls. I've been told of people falling down into these head first with their arms trapped at their sides. What a bitch that would be!
Anyway, things are great. It's almost time for dinner. Then bed is about 30 minutes after that for me.
Each of the last two days, the first run is a real ass-kicker, with hard, icy snow and tight turns through trees. It just so happens that these are the closest runs, and they seem to want to get us skiing earlier. Subsequent runs are much nicer, usually starting above the tree line in wide open spaces and ending with a run through trees and unskied powder.
They took us to a place they had not skied this year. In fact, our lead guy, Larry, who looks sort of like Kramer on Seinfeld, told me he had never skied one particular run we took. My favorite run was down through a long gully with lots of little bumps and obstacles to ski around. About five of us went tearing down through the gully while everybody else went another way. The end of the run, however, was probably the most treacherous thing I have ever skied, with several large craters along the way. You have to watch out for "tree wells" here. These are areas around the base of trees where not much snow falls. I've been told of people falling down into these head first with their arms trapped at their sides. What a bitch that would be!
Anyway, things are great. It's almost time for dinner. Then bed is about 30 minutes after that for me.
DAY 3
We awoke to cloudy skies and light snow - not a big dump like we had hoped, but better than nothing. The first run was the usual crusty butt kicker. I kind of wished I had my own skis instead of these Heli Daddy powder things for that, but later runs were better. Since the light was so bad we did not venture to the highest, open areas where we skied the last two days. We pretty much stuck to the tree runs. They usually start with a short open area at the top and then funnel down into a forest.
Larry was our lead guy today. He skis down a bit then radios back which way to go - something like "stay left or right of my tracks and don't go past the road." Or, my favorite comment before he left on a run called Mumbo Jumbo, "if it looks like a cliff, it probably is a cliff." I followed one of the French guys down a little dropoff which came to a point in an area between two trees about four feet apart..Beyond this was a sheer drop-off of about ten feet with a big rock on the left side and the edge of the cliff on the right. He ended up going down on his head. I sort of just slid down on my butt. After that it was intense but spectacular - untracked powder through trees spaced about ten feet apart.
This is definitely not for the feint of heart. The run after Mumbo Jumbo was called Bosanova Left. Larry went ahead and called back for another guide to "ski cut' a gully. He skied across it, but nothing happened. Then he cleared us to ski it. I was going to ski the gully, but the top was a bit steep, so I skied off to the left through the trees before cutting back over to the gully. I was standing there getting my shit together when I heard the snow give way at the top of the gully. Stephen had skied across the top and caused the avalanche which carried him about 200 yards to the bottom of the gully. He narrowly missed a tree, but he stayed upright, and his skis did not even come off. He (and everyone else) was a bit shaken, but none the worse for wear.
I just can't tell you how intense this is. Just the thing for an adrenaline junkie like me!
Lamb for dinner last night - fish tonight.
More fun tomorrow. It's still snowing!
Larry was our lead guy today. He skis down a bit then radios back which way to go - something like "stay left or right of my tracks and don't go past the road." Or, my favorite comment before he left on a run called Mumbo Jumbo, "if it looks like a cliff, it probably is a cliff." I followed one of the French guys down a little dropoff which came to a point in an area between two trees about four feet apart..Beyond this was a sheer drop-off of about ten feet with a big rock on the left side and the edge of the cliff on the right. He ended up going down on his head. I sort of just slid down on my butt. After that it was intense but spectacular - untracked powder through trees spaced about ten feet apart.
This is definitely not for the feint of heart. The run after Mumbo Jumbo was called Bosanova Left. Larry went ahead and called back for another guide to "ski cut' a gully. He skied across it, but nothing happened. Then he cleared us to ski it. I was going to ski the gully, but the top was a bit steep, so I skied off to the left through the trees before cutting back over to the gully. I was standing there getting my shit together when I heard the snow give way at the top of the gully. Stephen had skied across the top and caused the avalanche which carried him about 200 yards to the bottom of the gully. He narrowly missed a tree, but he stayed upright, and his skis did not even come off. He (and everyone else) was a bit shaken, but none the worse for wear.
I just can't tell you how intense this is. Just the thing for an adrenaline junkie like me!
Lamb for dinner last night - fish tonight.
More fun tomorrow. It's still snowing!
DAY 4
Mother nature finally decided to dump 50 cm of fresh snow overnight, so yesterday turned out to be phenomenal. The sky was a bright overcast with good visibility in most places, although this didn't matter much since we spent the entire day tree skiing.
I decided to trade in my Heli Daddy's for a pair of K-2 Pontoons. These are super-wide powder skis with bright red and white graphics. Definitely not all-mountain skis, but just right for today's mission. I hated them for the first two runs. Then I figured out what they were supposed to do. Skiing deep powder in them is like surfing across the tops of waves. Taking air off the little bumps and hills results in a very "soft" landing. In other words, where I'm accustomed to bottoming out and quickly decelerating after a big landing, these things just kind of "boing" you right back into business. They are VERY quick across the snow, and they require a little practice not to oversteer them into turns. About the third run it all came together, and GOOD GAWD, THIS IS AWESOME!
Larry took us to a run called Creme Brulee, which starts out sort of crusty on top then softens as you work your way down (get it?). The first run here just blew me away. A short field descended into a glade of trees spaced about 20 feet apart. The pitch was perfect. All of a sudden I was the skier you see in pictures, carving effortlessly through the trees, snow blowing over my head. Larry appreciated my comment that this was, without any doubt, the best run I had ever made on skis. I think these guys take it personally if you like (or don't like) the skiing. It's like a chef who lays out a meal for you, looking to see if you curl up your nose or express satisfaction. Larry's quirky comments also kept me amused. Stuff like, "there are only two excuses for being cold, being poor or being stupid." And if he said, "you're gonna have to work you way down this," or "it's a bit steep," you knew you were headed for a cliff.
We made six runs down Creme Brulee, working our way to either side to give us untracked powder each run. After ravaging this run, we moved on to other, similar stuff. Yesterday we skied "Flying Squirrel." Today we skied "Farting Squirrel." All the names seem strangely appropriate. By two o'clock, I was beat. My legs were about gone, and I could see everyone else felt the same. We lost two of the French guys. Pierre retired on Wednesday due to bad knees. Dominique, the best skier of all of us, went down with a torn hamstring late Thursday.
We made our last two runs ending at the lodge. We loaded up the snowcat, "Maude," and began the hour and fifteen minute trip down the mountain to meet the big, yellow school bus which ferried back to the Skyline truck stop and our cars and shuttles.
Paying the bill the final morning, I had already decided to re-up for next year, the same week. Nobody else from my group signed up, but the whole other cat comprised of guys from Saskatchewan are coming back.
On the plane back I read a little article in the Horizon Airways magazine about Canadian skiing which put Mustang Mountain into perspective for me. Here's what they say about their biggest mountains:
Silver Star Mountain Resort: Lifts: 8, skiable terrain: 3,065 acres- 20 % beginner,50 % intermediate, 30% advanced/expert.
Whistler Blackcomb (two resorts together): Lifts: 38. Skiable terrain: 8,171 acres - 18% beginner; 55% intermediate; 27% advanced/expert.
Here's my description of Mustang Mountain:
Lifts: 0, skiable terrain: 30,000 acres - 100% advanced/expert.
Stephen has done a lot of snowcat and helicopter skiing. He agreed that the final day was very good, but not "epic" in the sense of days where all skiing is through deep, light powder, down through the steeps.A lot of the mountain was closed during my visit due the severe instability and subsequent avalanche danger. The skiing was still, by far, the best I have ever done. I'm coming back until I get "epic."
I decided to trade in my Heli Daddy's for a pair of K-2 Pontoons. These are super-wide powder skis with bright red and white graphics. Definitely not all-mountain skis, but just right for today's mission. I hated them for the first two runs. Then I figured out what they were supposed to do. Skiing deep powder in them is like surfing across the tops of waves. Taking air off the little bumps and hills results in a very "soft" landing. In other words, where I'm accustomed to bottoming out and quickly decelerating after a big landing, these things just kind of "boing" you right back into business. They are VERY quick across the snow, and they require a little practice not to oversteer them into turns. About the third run it all came together, and GOOD GAWD, THIS IS AWESOME!
Larry took us to a run called Creme Brulee, which starts out sort of crusty on top then softens as you work your way down (get it?). The first run here just blew me away. A short field descended into a glade of trees spaced about 20 feet apart. The pitch was perfect. All of a sudden I was the skier you see in pictures, carving effortlessly through the trees, snow blowing over my head. Larry appreciated my comment that this was, without any doubt, the best run I had ever made on skis. I think these guys take it personally if you like (or don't like) the skiing. It's like a chef who lays out a meal for you, looking to see if you curl up your nose or express satisfaction. Larry's quirky comments also kept me amused. Stuff like, "there are only two excuses for being cold, being poor or being stupid." And if he said, "you're gonna have to work you way down this," or "it's a bit steep," you knew you were headed for a cliff.
We made six runs down Creme Brulee, working our way to either side to give us untracked powder each run. After ravaging this run, we moved on to other, similar stuff. Yesterday we skied "Flying Squirrel." Today we skied "Farting Squirrel." All the names seem strangely appropriate. By two o'clock, I was beat. My legs were about gone, and I could see everyone else felt the same. We lost two of the French guys. Pierre retired on Wednesday due to bad knees. Dominique, the best skier of all of us, went down with a torn hamstring late Thursday.
We made our last two runs ending at the lodge. We loaded up the snowcat, "Maude," and began the hour and fifteen minute trip down the mountain to meet the big, yellow school bus which ferried back to the Skyline truck stop and our cars and shuttles.
Paying the bill the final morning, I had already decided to re-up for next year, the same week. Nobody else from my group signed up, but the whole other cat comprised of guys from Saskatchewan are coming back.
On the plane back I read a little article in the Horizon Airways magazine about Canadian skiing which put Mustang Mountain into perspective for me. Here's what they say about their biggest mountains:
Silver Star Mountain Resort: Lifts: 8, skiable terrain: 3,065 acres- 20 % beginner,50 % intermediate, 30% advanced/expert.
Whistler Blackcomb (two resorts together): Lifts: 38. Skiable terrain: 8,171 acres - 18% beginner; 55% intermediate; 27% advanced/expert.
Here's my description of Mustang Mountain:
Lifts: 0, skiable terrain: 30,000 acres - 100% advanced/expert.
Stephen has done a lot of snowcat and helicopter skiing. He agreed that the final day was very good, but not "epic" in the sense of days where all skiing is through deep, light powder, down through the steeps.A lot of the mountain was closed during my visit due the severe instability and subsequent avalanche danger. The skiing was still, by far, the best I have ever done. I'm coming back until I get "epic."
