Alta's 2023/2024 ski season has ended with 621 inches of snow. Not as record-breaking as last year's 903 inches but still well above "normal" (500 inches). And it ended with a gorgeous closing weekend that likely left quite a few skiers sunburned.
H went up solo on Saturday. You didn't need parking reservations but it was still sparsely attended: he got front row parking. It was partly/mostly cloudy in the morning, slowing the snow warming a bit, but since it hadn't gotten super-cold overnight, conditions still softened quickly. Although a bunch of terrain was closed (patrol probably just doesn't want to bother this time of year and who can blame them?), Devil's Castle was open and H went in for the first time all season. There was plenty of snow but it was heavy to turn in, not surprisingly for this late in in the year. (Meanwhile, Milton and I did a two hour walk, yardwork, attended to laundry and vacuuming, and meal-prepped down in the valley.)
Sunday was sunny right from the start. Parking reservations were required for closing day (all parking would be full by 1 p.m. and they actually dropped the avalanche gates to close the road to keep people from coming up). Staff were checking license plates as vehicles entered the lots, slowing traffic a bit; we got stopped just below the Hellgate condominiums and traffic moved slowly but steadily after that. We scored a parking spot in the Wildcat base lot - "where the fun is," according to H. As we walked through the parking lot to the Goldminer's Daughter lodge, the partying had already begun with blaring music, pancakes, eggs and bacon being griddled on camp stove and breakfast beers.
Later, I saw an Instagram post of the initial Collins lift line, with the caption: "Alta closing goes hard!" Indeed it does. I would guess 80-90% of attendees were in costumes. H and I aren't costume-people but we do appreciate folks' creativity. We spent the day pointing out good outfits to each other. There were lots of hotdogs (in honor of the annual Frank Classic free ski competition ensconced up under the Wildcat lift), Hawaiian shirts, bellbottoms, several disco ball helmets, leopard-print everything, tuxedos and wedding dresses, tutus and poodle skirts and lederhosen, chicks in bikinis, dudes in speedos, so many jeans shorts of all lengths, lots of '80s-inspired "fashion," pajamas, robes and wings.
Since folks were so busy pre-gaming, there really weren't many people skiing until 11 a.m.; after that, the lift lines got long, but there was such good people-watching, and it was so sunny and pleasant, that the long waits were fine. We did our usual progression, following the warming conditions: Sugarloaf (where I fell for the first time in years, catching an edge right under the lift), then Supreme (where H fell for the first time in years, catching a metal soup spoon (?!!?) in his ski brake - it acted like a rudder and steered him towards a ditch until he laid it down to stop himself), then Collins. We also did the obligatory one chairlift ride up Wildcat to check out Frank. This lift had the longest lines of the whole resort, as well as a grouchy-looking police officer keeping an eye out for those who were partying too hard.
We skied until nearly 2 p.m., then went to the locker room to say goodbye to our locker sublet. Hopefully we'll get to do that again next year: it was so convenient, plus we really enjoyed making friends with the other denizens. The party was still bangin' in the parking lot: more music, more food, more beer. The Oscar Meyer Weinermobile was even there - again, in honor of Frank. We ate some lunch and grabbed our own beers to do a circuit of the lot, admiring the various set-ups and outfits. Finally, we had to get home to let Milton out so we said farewell to the ski season and headed back down canyon. In Frank we trust.
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