 |
| Toledo Bowl from Flagstaff's shoulder. Cardiac Bowl is just beyond (west), hidden in the clouds. Alta's long range plan calls for a lift that would pass directly over my approach route up Flagstaff's shoulder. If so, Toledo Bowl will be either a mogul field for experts or a groomer to appeal to the general public. In any case, with a lift carrying skiers to the edge of Days, Silver and Cardiff Forks, the Central Wasatch "back country" will be nearly extinct. If you thought it was crowded now, just wait, you're going to see Skyline High pep rallys Main Days or Cardiac Bowl. |
Flagstaff
Peak from Alta – December 13, 2013
There is no bad snow or bad skis, just bad
skiers. Today I really could have used my fat skis to handle to harsh sun crusts,
so I must be a pretty damn bad skier. Every ski season has a few dogs, some
days are tough and no fun. Today was one of those days. Conditions were painful
and it left me asking, "why do I do this"? Fortunately, the great days,
those days when the skinning is effortless and the skiing is like flights
through heaven, cancel out the bad memories and make you long for more. I need
one of those days right now.
Statistically speaking, the law of averages
dictates 2 rotten ski days for every 30 good ski days, and since I’m a
glass-half-full sort of guy, it’s comforting to know that I have only one more dog
day to endure for the 2013-14 ski season.
So what was wrong with the day? First,
what the hell is it with Wasatch B.C. skiers setting a skin track at an ungodly
angle? Yeah, I have no business whining when I didn’t break trail after the
last snow, but that skinner up Flagstaff was so steep I doubt my skins would’ve
found purchase if I was the first guy up. The skin tracks out of Alta are obviously
one-time use only, after a bit of traffic and some sun, they are as hard as the
sidewalk in front of my house, and very few skins will grip, especially if any
edge if exposed. At least my neighbors don’t urinate in the middle of my sidewalk
like Wasatch skiers do. Yellow snow aside, given the hellish angle and the icy
conditions, the only way I would NOT slip backwards is to use shag carpet for
skins. Come to think of it, maybe I could score some cash by selling carpet
remnants as skins? I’d call them ‘Wasatch Hippie Fur’, maybe just ‘Wasatch Fur’?
Second, the snow, the skimpy 24 inch
coverage we have, just plain sucked. Thursday’s bright, sunny weather inflicted
a deep melt, then Thursday night’s near zero temps made the south aspects a
landscape of plywood over sand. Worse, Friday’s overcast sky meant no sun to soften
that crust. And it was one tough crust of two or three inches of punchy, hard
snow, which translated to one ski atop and the other breaking though to rock and shrubs. I’ll admit, my
turns today were almost as bad as any in my career, maybe as bad as 1972 when learning
to ski on the moguls of Bob’s Bowl at Solitude, on my woody, J.C. Penny
specials and leather lace-up boots.
My day went like this: I started late and
was rushing daylight, but I skinned up Flagstaff anyway, half on the established
track, half my own, aiming to ski upper Days Fork and Silver Fork, then descend
under headlamp back the way I came to my truck at Alta. The higher I climbed to
more disillusioned I became, so when I finally topped out on Flagstaff, and was
met with a storm front, complete with strong wind and blizzard conditions, with only an hour of day light remaining, I had no heart to continue, knowing it was
going to be ugly descending that crappy snow in the dark. Yes, the snow on the northerly
aspects of upper Days was very creamy and would’ve made great turning, but I
was seriously concerned about blowing an ACL, or face planting on those razors
crystals, or ripping my new, fashionista-B.D. pants. I even debated removing
the skis and booting down, the only thing prohibiting that pussy action was
thinking half the guests at Gold Miner’s Daughter were watching through
binoculars - and laughing. In hind sight they were probably in hysterics anyway
as they watched my pathetic turns, but I made it down in one piece, tail
between my legs, but encouraged knowing I now have only one more dog day to
endure for 2013-14. Like I said, there
is no bad snow or bad skis, just bad skiers. Seems I’ve been fighting that for
forty years.
 |
| Flagstaff peak and upper Days Fork (r). |
 |
| Snowbird from Flagstaff. |
 |
| View NE towards the Days-Silver Fork divide. The forested ramp (starting on the left, mid picture) offers easy access to Silver Fork after skiing laps in upper Days. |
 |
| Upper Days Fork. Fun skiing in the glades. Main Days it just over the ridge running down, left to right. |
 |
| Upper Days Fork meadows. |
 |
| Dead tree above Snowbird's base. |
 |
| A few snow flakes to hike the rocks. |
