I thought the rest of my ski season was in jeopardy.
I have a policy, I never ski a run right after they drop the rope, right after they open it for the first time that season. Because of what's hidden underneath. The untracked snow looks so appealing. But I skied Ben's Face the morning it opened about fifteen years ago, it looked so perfect this early December day. And it was pretty good until... I was at the absolute bottom of the run, where it meets the road, and suddenly my skis stopped instantly, and I was thrust forward in a complete somersault. Thank god the bindings released.
Upon investigation I found it was a water bar. This is a regular feature at ski areas, gullies to drain off the water from the melting snow, so it doesn't take the rest of the slope with it. I never knew there was a water bar there, because I'd never skied Ben's Face with so little snow.
They dropped the rope on the Big Burn at Snowmass and Dread couldn't resist. He hit a submerged rock and...bottom line is he ended up with a concussion, a serious one.
So when Strasburg told me they'd opened Cookshack back in December, I said no, despite him testifying how great it was. First and foremost, I didn't think it was even open, I thought people were poaching runs. This is a no-no in Utah. You can be skiing and on the other side of the rope it is pristine powder. But if you go over there, you're gonna lose your pass, because there's so much avalanche danger. But there's not that much avalanche danger in Vail, and they preach about pulling passes for these violations, but I've never seen them do it. (Meanwhile, it turned out Cookshack was still officially closed.)
Now it's the worst snow year in the history of records, which in Vail only go back to 1987. Right now we're sitting at 48% of average. Now the truth is there was one winter worse, which I remember and seemingly no one else does, the winter of 76-77. I was contemplating dropping out of law school and returning to Snowbird but my friends said not to come, that there was no snow, the ski areas weren't even open, they were departing for their parents' places over the holiday.
But recently, the "Salt Lake Tribune" weighed in, setting the record straight:
"This ski season isn't Utah's worst. Here's what was"
https://apple.news/A-ekRvrYsQJClRVA51yMGeQ
But as bad as it is in Colorado this year, at Vail it's even worse. You see more than a third of the ski area faces south, the "Legendary Back Bowls," and you can't get to the final third, Blue Sky Basin, unless the Bowls are open. Meaning more than two-thirds of Vail has been closed all season. The Back Bowls have never not opened before February.
Until this year.
It's a business. And business is off. The word has gotten out. There's no snow.
Now skiing on Wednesday, at the top of Sourdough, I saw that chairs 21 and 36 in the Back Bowls were running. No one was on them, the slopes were untracked, but this made me wonder, were they going to be opened?
Made no sense, because you can see dirt and bushes everywhere in the Back Bowls. And the ski patrol went on record that they were not going to open them until there was another foot of snow, and we're still 6" shy.
But the following morning, yesterday, on Instagram, there was a post that the Bowls were open!
Let me be clear, very little was open, but the headlines had publicity value. One can argue the Back Bowls are the most legendary skiing in America. Sure, there are difficult couloirs, like Corbet's in Jackson Hole, and KT22 at Squaw Valley has unending pitch, but those are only for experts. Although they rate the Back Bowls almost totally expert, the truth is they're not that steep. Furthermore, south of the border, there are no bowls like this. They've got 'em at Whistler, and in Europe, but in the States? If you want wide open bowl skiing, seven miles in length, Vail is the place.
But they were only opening three runs in the back. The Poppyfields East and West and a bit of Yonder in Sun Up Bowl...
As for Blue Sky... There was one run available from the top, Big Rock Park, and when you skied down that to Pete's Express...the slopes off that lift were open.
Now let me tell you, riding Skyline, the lift up Blue Sky, was jaw-dropping. I've never seen so much growth poking up through the snow, of course it was all closed.
As for Big Rock Park, let's just say the road over there and the slope itself were a giant clusterf*ck. Everybody was back there, amateurs included, just so they could say they'd been.
As for the legendary gully at the bottom of Big Rock Park...essentially unskiable. Rocks and moguls. I had to traverse high up on the wall in order to get through, and I still had to avoid giant rocks.
As for Pete's Express... I'd read the map wrong, I thought the Star was groomed, they alternate between that and Grand Review every day. There were so many people up there, unpredictable newbies...better skiers hew to a rhythm,...that I just blasted ahead and didn't stop, I saw openings amongst the pedestrians, yes, many people were stopped, they find ungroomed slopes a challenge, and made it down to the road to escape.
Actually, that run on the Star was pretty great. But was it worth it?
NO!
Here's where we get to the heart of the matter.
You see the lifts in Blue Sky close early, because it takes so long for people to work their way back from there to the front. The lifts on the front close at 3:30. Skyline closes at 2:30. Pete's closes at 2:15.
Felice had peeled off at the base of Gondola One, at the true bottom of Vail, and I got on the lift and started to calculate, could I make it to Pete's?
It would be close, but I figured I'd get there just under the wire, which I did, at 2:12, as the ski patrol was unfurling the red closed banner, literally.
Which meant I had to book it, bomb...which was no problem, the Poppyfields are not that steep, they're two of only three blue runs in the Back Bowls (blue is intermediate, black is expert, the Back Bowls are almost all black not because every lick of them is that difficult, but if you rate something blue, the amateurs will dive in. As it is, the problem is already significant. People who can barely ski being stuck in the Back Bowls.
Anyway, the Poppyfields West are completely baked out. Slush. Because as I said above, the Bowls face south, which means the sun hits them directly, and the snow melts.
And the Poppyfields start off wide open, then you can ski to the left of trees to avoid the hordes, but then you meet them again just before a slight face and then...there's an endless road to the base of the Orient Express, lift 21.
And when I turn the corner at the end of the road, and cross under the lift, all I can see is an endless scrum of people at the junction, where either you can turn back to Orient or take the road to Blue Sky Basin. Everybody was in this area, because the final face to the lift was closed...like I said, they only opened the Poppyfields so you could get to Blue Sky Basin.
So, there's a big wooden fence. High, the snow never covers it. In front of it is the short path back to the base of the Orient Express. Behind it is the road to Blue Sky Basin.
Now there were no openings at all. The road was completely jammed up with people, nobody moving. But at the corner of the fence, there were a few feet of snow that were unpopulated.
And at this point, I know Vail like the back of my hand. At this specific spot oftentimes there's a giant exposed rock. But if there's enough snow, it is covered. And since it was the first day this slope was opened, I figured there was enough snow, it hadn't been scraped away.
And not only is there this rock to consider, oftentimes there's a huge bare area on the other side of the ridge, where you meet the road. However, if there is a bare spot, the ski patrol puts up red bamboo poles in an X, preventing skiers from going there.
But there were no X'ed poles.
So this would work out just fine. I'd cut the corner, turn sharply, avoid the ski instructor with his two clients, and then continue my run to Blue Sky Basin.
And everything was perfect until...
There was no rock...
But there was a giant bare spot.
And a three foot drop.
And you had to clear another four or five feet of grass until you hit snow.
So suddenly I'm in the air...
If I go straight, I'm going to hit the instructor and his pupils, and that is truly a no-no at Vail, I will lose my pass for sure.
So I pull up my skis so I don't land on the bare spot, which will be an utter disaster, and while I'm up there, I turn my skis sideways, so when I land I will stop immediately, as my skis will be across the slope, and thus I will not hit the instructor and his people.
Now if you watch any ski jumping, you know that every hill has a limit, you don't want to out-jump it.
Or maybe you know more about freestyle skiing, and its jumps. You'll see skiers or snowboarders in the park, with these giant jumps and you'll notice there's a good-sized gap between the lip and the landing area. This is flat. You don't want to land here. Never ever. Because of the COMPRESSION! Talk about being jammed up and jelly tight.
So I come down from the sky, and BAM! The jolt that goes up my spine is like being hit on the head with a sledgehammer. And to avoid the ski instructor and his students I have to stop dead, so I have to plant my ass as part of this process.
And I achieve my goal, I land and stop nearly instantly, I'm not so close that the ski instructor freaks out, but he does stop on a dime and ask me how I am and I sheepishly say I'm fine, BUT AM I??
This is how you create herniated disks. I know, because I've done it. The disks are compressed and the gel inside oozes out and hits the nerve and it's like your body is on fire, FROM THE INSIDE!
You can have surgery, and in some cases wait it out, for it to return to normal, but one thing is for sure, you're going to be laid up for MONTHS!
I get up on my skis and I'm not in excruciating pain. My butt cheek hurts, and my back ain't great, but there's no pain beneath my waist, which is the telling sign of a herniated disk.
So I ski off and...my mind is a million miles away. My life, or at least the next six months, is flashing in my brain. I knew there was still little snow, but I was jonesing sitting on my bottom in L.A., so I'd come back out. I'd broken my policy of skiing slopes the day the rope had dropped, but there'd been so many skiers and the snow was packed and...
After slaloming between the unpredictable amateurs I got on the Skyline Express and contemplated my life. I thought of when I tore up my shoulder, slipping on the ice walking TO GO skiing! My shrink wasn't overly concerned. It was just the nature of life. I'm not the only person who needed rotator cuff surgery, they it did on a regular basis, I'd come out the other side. And that's what I was telling myself as I rode the lift. If this is the end, I'll cope. Or will I?
And then I realize I'm not exactly in shock, but I'm far from normal, and when you're in this headspace, detached, is when you actually get injured skiing. So I had to focus and...
I had no sharp pain.
I mean I wasn't pain-free, but I've been injured, you know it when it happens, you can feel it.
So I skied that run on Pete's and then went back to the Orient Express to ski the Poppyfields East, which you can only reach from the top of that lift, it looked better than the Poppyfields West I'd skied previously.
And the lift is interminable, but the slope was pretty good.
And the two Poppyfields merge into one, and you take that long road back to the lift, to the corner, to the site of my...I don't know what to call it, my accident? And just where I'd skied, where I'd gotten into all that trouble... The slope looked identical, but now there was a big red bamboo pole preventing people from skiing there, warning them off.
P.S. I skied some more to prove that I could, that I was okay. But a lot of times, the pain doesn't manifest itself until you wake up the next day. So I was in a holding pattern. I took an Epsom salts bath, which the guy in the ski shop said might help. You've got to sit there for at least fifteen minutes, next time I'll take reading material.
And my upper spine was not good. But I'd been able to use my poles the rest of the day.
And on either side of the back of my waist...there were aches.
And the lower spine, it was buzzing, not horribly, but it was speaking to me, saying it was jammed, wondering why in the hell I did this to it.
Now in the middle of the night, my lower back was worse.
But I woke up and... I wasn't pain free, I had aches, but nothing was sharp. Movement was not limited. So I won't say I started to smile, but my mood did improve.
And it's like the circus, you have to get right back on the horse, so after reading the paper and eating my coffee yogurt, I suited up, put on my boots, walked out to get my skis, got on the gondola, and from there to Chair 3 and at the very top...I didn't feel that bad.
So we went over to ski Dealer's Choice and at first I felt a little off, just a little stiff, but halfway down I was back in the groove and I realized...
I'd survived.
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