Spring Into Spring

As most ski resorts are closing, it reminds me of one of my favorite skiing experiences that happened to occurred in early Spring. It is apparent that Spring has come early and most snow packs around the West are below average. Which will make for an interesting fishing season come July and into August. With fishing aside, I put my winter ski clothes on for a brief instant and recall one of my favorite Vail moments.

My first winter in Colorado was spent on the 4UR Ranch, just outside the town of Creede, where I coached basketball. When basketball season was over, I headed to Vail for the remainder of the ski season. I had a friend there and I was ready to ski and play. While there, my best friend came out to visit for a long weekend.

 
We skied everyday, and the conditions were ideal; snow at night and blue skies during the day. On a warm Spring day, 8 inches of fresh snow fell the night before. We skied the morning hard, stopping only for lunch. Skiing with someone who knows the mountain is always a treat when you don't know the trails all that well. We had someone skiing with us who knew the mountain, and in the late afternoon we made it to a little hiding spot not far off the trail, but just far enough to feel like you were in the wild. A wild that is a quiet, still-beauty, full of power that provided me with a spiritual feeling that I often meet in the wild. We stayed, resting in the snow bank, just listening to the silence. I am fortunate enough to experience many wonderful moments in nature, but rarely do I experience magical moments. This excursion was certainly one of those moments.

The topper of the afternoon would be the ride down the hill. We waited til about 5pm, the mountain was closed and the groomers were finished with the run we needed to take. The days were long because the time had just changed, so we had just enough light. It was the three of us, a freshly groomed slope, and the mountain. We saw no other souls on the hill. I skied as free as I wanted; not worrying about other skiers running into me or getting in my way. Just me and my turns, carving out freshly groomed snow.