I paid the piper for my solo ski day on Thursday by going in to work Saturday morning. (I took Milton with me but probably shouldn't have, as there's something about my office building that stresses him out in a way that doesn't happen when H takes him to work.) I did this because the Wasatch mountains were forecast to have some definite weather for the weekend and beyond, and I just don't love storm skiing like I used to. In the valley, it was warm and windy with scattered showers until late afternoon when the front moved in. Then we had rain and snain and snow cycling through over and over, with occasional three minute breaks of sunshine, from Saturday evening through Sunday evening.
H went skiing.
It wasn't too cold up at Alta on Saturday but it was windy and dark, with very flat light. They had snow showers off and on but not too much in the way of accumulation. But we knew they were going to get some, especially as the thunderstorm moved past us Saturday night and headed on up the canyons.
By Sunday morning, the resorts in the Cottonwood Canyons were reporting 12" overnight. H didn't dillydally and made sure that he got the 6:30 a.m. ski bus. They got to Alta about twenty-five minutes late, due to dodging other vehicles that had slid off the road, but that was way better than people who didn't get an early start: H talked to a guy who had driven up and it had taken him two hours from the Cottonwood Heights fire station on Wasatch Boulevard due to heavy traffic and slushy conditions.
Speaking of condtions, the snow was fantastic, deep and soft and while it wasn't light enough to be considered blower powder, H did get it puffing over his head in some deep pockets that he found. Plus it kept snowing all day - "free refills." And since the canyon road was snarled with vehicles, he didn't have to wait in line much, just doing deep lap after deep lap. He started on the Sugarloaf chair, enjoying good runs down Chartreuse, and then over at the Supreme lift, doing Challenger, the former gullies, the trees off the cat track, Supreme Bowl, the Three Bears trees and one run into the beginning of Catherine's Area where there's a stand of trees we like.
Around 12:50, he hopped on the Sugarloaf lift, intending to go ski off the front side for a while (Fred's Trees were calling his name). But at the top, Alta ski patrol was closing the EBT for avalanche control and the canyon road was closing 1:30 - 3:30 (also for avalanche control). So he basically straightlined it back down to Alf's and through Sunnyside, then poled for all he was worth across the rope tow, ran to the locker room, threw his skis and poles in the locker, grabbed his boot bag and ran - still in his ski boots - for the 1:09 ski bus. He was the last one on before the driver closed the doors, and then they just managed to pack the bus full and get out before they closed the canyon. It was too bad because the snow was so good, but if he'd stayed and skied and taken a 3:30 or later bus, it was probable that he wouldn't have made it home before 5 p.m.