Transitions

The crisp days of October and November that occasionally bring snow usually find me gunning for the deserts of southern Utah, wringing every warm, dry day out of the climbing season before conceding to the ski itch and inevitably stuffing my feet back into ski boots sometime in December. So when a hefty late-October snow deposit rolled into the Wasatch, I started thinking sandstone and sunshine, but I wasn’t surprised when my friend Porter enlisted me for some pre-work pow turns. This guy would ski the ice shavings out back of an ice rink, but this was a real-deal snowstorm, and curiosity gave way to consent.
Winter could wait, but a little taste wouldn’t hurt.
Up and out the door before 5, I stuffed homemade blueberry muffins in my face as we trolled through the unplowed streets and toward the goods. Halfway up Little Cottonwood Canyon, the heavy slop that blanketed the valley floor gave way to more consolidated fluff, and we pulled into the Alta parking lot and rammed the truck into an unplowed space. The familiar swish and crunch of the skin track jogged my memory as we slid past the snow-making machines whirring at full bore and up toward the ridgeline. A few headlamps dotted the vast panorama, and we took advantage of the skin track installed by our predecessors to make our way up. We took a brief warmup lap by headlamp to confirm that winter was officially here. Thigh-deep and well consolidated, the snow did not disappoint, especially for October 27th.
Now hungry for more, we made our way higher to the Baldy shoulder, where we peeled our skins and donned goggles and shell jackets under the soft, gray sunrise. After a few cautious turns, we descended into the white room, and the deep plumes of fresh snow usually reserved for mid-winter engulfed us all. Wiping the snow from our faces and displaying large, toothy smiles, the four of us regrouped for high fives and a brief rest before descending down to the base through turn after turn of soft, early-season fluff.
Winter can wait, but a little taste sure was nice.

Photo by Porter Haney.