IN THE DEEP

It's been warm. It's been sunny. It's November. There's panic in the air. But never fear, "it always comes," we say around here, because if there's one thing we can count on, it's that white stuff! It's just a matter of WHEN.

The WHEN is now. We had our first official "Winter Storm Warning" in October this year; a blasting, paster of a storm, we got below-average temps, feet of snow in some areas of Colorado, and yet, it's all gone.

Well, we're now at the 2-hour countdown to WSW#2. We're into November finally, and we're at the 2-week-mark, as of today. Just 14 days to the opening, and this three-day storm should bring us some of what we're looking for. It's been a tumultuous week for weather in the U.S., actually, the central east coast is getting pounded today with Ida's lil' sister- flooding and gale force winds from Cape Hatteras to Cape Cod. While I love watching Mike Bettes get his hair wet in the wild wind as opposed to seeing him in dry and sharp in the studio, I must admit I'm jealous of Virginia Beach's weather right now. But here's a look at what's to come...


One last note, they should change the seasons around here. Or the lingo. Or both. If we're getting "Winter Storm Warnings" in the fall, how can they be WSWs? They should be Fall Storm Warnings, or Winter-Like Storm Warnings... OR we should just change our dates. Winter starts November 1st, because we've already had six weeks of snow by the time it starts for everyone else on December 21st.

Here's what I'm dreaming of... how 'bout you?





~See you in the deep.

It was an exciting morning in the 'Boat today; we've been watching the snow pile on since yesterday afternoon until this morning thinking... ooooh, deeeeeep. I personally couldn't sleep past 6:30 from all the excitement.

We pressed glass at the Gondy, getting first chair once again thanks to some mule help from Rob W and Travis G with the gear! We didn't make it up before the Thunderhead pressers but Rudy's tracked out on a 24" day is dreamy just the same. We reached the Storm Peak line with over 100 other dedicated 'hounds and made about 12th chair up. Giggling and bubbling excitement aside, you don't get much happier than looking down from a Storm Peak chair and seeing Hurricane and Storm Face completely untracked and beckoning yours. We had to do it, and it was one of the top 10 best runs of my life. Long, steep, untracked, and thigh deep snow with intermittant face shots, seriously? Who's hatin' that? It was of course over Craig's head, so not him. We had shouts of encouragement from the lift the entire way down

Deep doesn't necessarily mean painless though... First run Rob snapped his pole in half (see right!). Laughing, we checked the lift shacks for replacements and made our way to Sideburn and Sunset and Lights Out so we could take Sundown up to check in the Patrol shack for one. Sideburn was as deep as you can ski it, folks, literally, choking on snow. Sunset was slightly tracked but up to my waste in spots, and Lights Out was bottomless. Unfortunately however Craig jumped his bouncing rabbit-like butt into a 2' hole and three of us, including a patroller, had to dig him out. But by the time we blazed through Lights Out to the lift, his leg was jumping now too.

For Craig this isn't good... bouncing legs means something in there is wrong- you paras know this, your body tells you when your nerves can't. Needless to say we had to exit the mountain to get him checked out. Alas, a glorious morning cut short but not wasted, for sure. TONS of pow. We made our way down the hill via Storm and our meadow (or I've also heard it called "Middleburns") to Rainbow for some final face shots.

Craig's at Dr Sisk's now getting it xrayed (I'll keep you posted, we're hoping for an ankle sprain), and then we head down to Denver this afternoon and fly out to Myrtle Beach tomorrow! We'll miss the holiday week of snow, so get after that powder for us and we'll see you next year!

Happy Holidays!

We've been in the mix of a tentative- and temperamental- storm warning these last few days and I'm beginning to lose track of things already! It's Thursday, a week from Christmas, it's frigid, and it's snowing- it's not snowing- it's snowing... that's the extent of my awareness right now.

Yesterday we had a few new inches at the top and today we had a dusting as well. It started dumping huge saucer-sized flakes today around 11:30am, and snowed for several hours. But the big dark storm system they promised would drop several feet on us is unfortunately sneaking out the back door. We're all a bit disappointed to say the least, but that hasn't been stopping Craig from making turns religiously (well, it is the holiday season!). He went up yesterday morning and mid-day today, both times reporting conditions were above average~ cold, good leftovers, and empty.

I'm a little more finicky myself and have immediate plans to mount the helmet/bike cam on Craig's foot cage so he can fill in with better details when I bag it (as I have the past few days). For clarification, I prefer fresh snow, early morning turns, am ok with minimal visibility and swirling snow, and don't care what temperature it is so long as there's new snow. But then again, I also snowshoe....

Craig's single option in the winter is skiing, and by golly, he's in-it-to-win-it right now. Gearing up for the 1st annual Legends of the Deep Powder Invitational in January, Craig's not only skiing daily, he's also working out at the gym and his skiing shows it. He's bombing bumps and piles of old snow like it's UPS's popcorn. He'd never race, says it's too much "waiting around," but a powder competition? You just wait.

Hopefully tomorrow will bring us some powder but frankly it doesn't look like it; that storm front is puking itself dry somewhere Ft Collins right now... I mean even VEGAS got some. COME ON.

For the record, weathermen of the US, please don't predict "several feet" of snow for us ever. Steamboat's Bermuda Triangle of weather seems to like it best when you say "1-3 inches" instead.

I'm not going to start counting yet because the mountain isn't open, but I think as soon as it is, I'm going to tally the incorrect forecasts. So far they'd be 0-2, and as someone said to me yesterday, "Don't they look out their windows?" But the mountains do something strange to weather systems, and although I call myself something of a weather buff, I wouldn't want the job of predicting snow around here. Sometimes the mountains suck in the system and keep it here for days, sometimes they don't. I'm not sure if there's rhyme or reason to it, but I am sure that all the locals agree on this, never trust a forecast more than 3 days out, and rarely trust a forecast otherwise.

Although I compare forecasts with three meteorology centers (www.steamboatweather.com, www.weather.com, and www.wrh.noaa.gov), they usually all agree with each other, and I tend to make my own assumptions day to day based on how the satellite is looking. All three centers predicted sun with partly cloudy skies and warmer temps (45-50°) for yesterday and today, with the snow coming back in tomorrow. But both days have been dark and dreary, no sun to be had, with a humid 20° chill. And now we're seeing light flurries today.

I'm not complaining, they were blasting the base area yesterday and cold temps mean continual snowmaking 24 hours a day so we can get ready for opening day.

But I want to know, why do these people get paid if they're rarely right?

It's early November and many locals are saying they "aren't ready for this snow...."

It comes every year at Halloween, you know it does, and it breaks for the Sun's vitaminD charge in between storms. It doesn't get booger-freeze cold (as best a description as I've ever had for it, that's where you inhale through your nostrils and they stick together) until mid or late December, and only stays that way for 4-6 weeks when the Sun has gone to Mexico for Winter Solstice. So why the denial for some? I don't understand.

This is when Craig and I enter the short, 4-month-mode of Permanently Awaiting the Next Storm, and if we're lucky, the wait is never long. Like holding your breath while diving for shells or touching sea turtles in your snorkel gear, or better fitting, like holding your breath between face shots of Pow', we like -and need- the break between storms. Don't gasp at me like that, we do. It's a recharge for the legs, or the arms and tummy for Craig, and we do need a day or three to get some work done.

We're not fair-weather skiers. Blue bird days are for the Texans in jeans, the grandpas and grandmas, the New York ladies in fur-necked Prada, and only a select few locals who strive for 100+days on the mountain. They aren't picky. We are. We don't need the views, although nice, we've seen 'em. We don't need to see the run before us, we know every turn, every tree, every stash. We don't need clear goggles, we bring an extra pair.

So when it's early November and storming like this, we're chomping at the bit. Awing at our new skis, bringing down the rig and tuning it, getting out our ski gear and washing it, staring at the mountain and counting....

And luckily this time, according to Weather Channel's Mike Bettis, we won't have wait too long.


(NOTE: Too bad the Broncos aren't playing at home this Sunday, it's always good for ski areas' bookings when they play in the snow... )