It was Inevitable

With so much baffling uncertainty in this merry-go-round called life, it's nice to know that there are still some things upon which one can always count: water is wet, the sky is blue, and this dude WILL be hanging out at Snowbird's Mid Gad restaurant.

UTAH 2009 - Sunday March 1st - Day 1

OK, so technically yesterday was Day 1. But since all that transpired was Schlüz getting a couple hours of sweaty turns through the Canyons slush (sun beating down on his baseball hat, wallet getting thin, beer getting flat) and Kurt2.0 and Schlüz shopping for food (shlepping up and down the aisles like a pair of creepy German domestic partners) it really doesn’t count.

So, anyway, Day 1 – Sunday

Out to the gondola by 9AM, Kurt2.0 and Schlüz spent the morning looking for something resembling powder but the search proved fruitless. They started out on Peak 5 and the underrated Dream Peak before making their way to 9990 where icy bumps and exposed rocks were the order of the day. The sun came out around 11 and softened things up a bit, so they headed over to Super Condor where the day devolved into a series of bombing runs down groomers until tired legs, aching feet and powerful thirst demanded the day’s proceedings come to an end. The day was mostly uneventful, although at one point they did see most of some Asian chick’s backside as she bent down to tighten her bindings. (Which was unpleasant) And, oh yeah, during lunch - for some unknown reason - the Red Pine lodge’s PA system was cranking a Casey Kasem Top-40 Countdown from 1985. (Which was even more unpleasant)

Besides the skiing and riding and the disturbing forecast for rain tomorrow, the predominant topic of the day was the continued absence of Güzo and Charity. Having already postponed their trip to attend the fabulous-but-poorly-timed nuptials of Grover Norquist, their arrival was further delayed by a snowstorm in New York City. That’s worth repeating: their Utah ski trip was delayed by a snowstorm in New York. Irony can be pretty ironic sometimes. The tired couple was expected to arrive sometime past the witching hour in time to catch some quick booze and sleep before strapping on the planks Monday morning.

Fresh Powder At Brighton

We’ve been coming to Utah one week a year for a decade, racking up eighty-something ski days in the process. To choose a single “best” day from such a crowded field would seem a Herculean task. And yet we can state, with absolute certainty, that the day we spent at Brighton in April 2008 has a firm grasp on the #1 spot.

For this day to claim the top spot was the result of a perfect convergence of four factors:

1. The Crowd (or lack thereof)

Geographically, Brighton is located just past Solitude resort in Big Cottonwood Canyon. This has metaphorical significance because, on this particular day, there was, literally, NOBODY there. So it can be accurately stated that Brighton is, in every way, beyond Solitude. 

2. The Snow 

Utah’s tourism revenue increased exponentially when they changed their slogan from “Take My Wives, Please” to “The Greatest Snow on Earth.” To the uninitiated, the latter tag line might seem hyperbolic, or at least arrogant. But it isn’t. 

3. The Crew

In 1997, Güzo and Schlüz’ discovery that a mutual love of speed and bumps and trees, and an “unsafety first” attitude, negates any skier/snowboarder bullshit. This marked the genesis of an annual pilgrimage. Five years later, Charity arrived and quickly demonstrated the same recklessness in her skiing as she did when she married Güzo. And thus was born an unholy trinity – one knuckledragger and a pair of two-plankers (“I smell a sitcom!”) – and we’ve been pushing our luck together ever since. We’ve been out with lots of different people over the years. With groups large and small. With skiers and riders of varying abilities and diverse philosophies. And good times we have had. But every year as the herd is trimmed to three, we are once again blessed by God and Saint Michael and Saint George with the right to shred bumps and the power to rip powder. And it is good.

And of course the terrain was kick-ass. Brighton is considered relatively small by Utah standards. Which is to say, it’s fucking huge.

So there we were with the whole place to ourselves. We started our day soaking up the knee-deep freshies under the new Milly Express high speed quad. For east coast kids, we acquitted ourselves pretty well. But enough words. Check this out:

Snowbird

In a way, each of us has his own Snowbird to face. For some, shyness might be their Snowbird. For others, a lack of education might be their Snowbird. For us, Snowbird is a big, dangerous mountain that wants to kill us.

Snowbird is a HUGE resort, full of rock outcroppings and cornices and cliffs and chutes and, surprisingly, large predatory cats. (See below)

Fresh off our monster powder day at Brighton, we were dragging ass a bit as we rolled into Snowbird. But the sunny skies and lingering freshies (sun-baked but still relatively soft) got us in the mood in short order, and we spent most of the morning working out the kinks around Mineral Basin. After that we moved over to the front side and found some nice steep soft groomers to play with and occasional powder stashes to callenge our happily-fatigued legs.

There were two noteworthy events which transpired on this day. The first, of course, was meeting the local wildlife. (See below). The second was our first ride through the Peruvian Tunnel, a 600-foot shaftway dug straight through the mountain enabling access to Mineral Basin from the front side without having to take another tram ride. Movement through the tunnel is accomplished by means of a conveyor belt and the experience is not unlike that of a gallon of milk making its way through the checkout (only with more bad 80’s music). Check it out:

Kurt 2.0

Before we begin, we wish to note for the record that we like the old Kurt. Nice guy. Swell fella. But he’s a JINX.

For 8 years, we went to Utah with Kurt every winter. And those years started out promissingly enough: tons of powder, face shots all around, and, as a bonus, the chance to witness the bizarre phenomenon of Kurt’s intelligence declining proportionally to every foot of altitude he gained. (‘You see, the thing about Beam and coke is, you’ve got Beam AND you’ve got coke.’) But, as the years passed, we noticed a disturbing trend: No Snow. In Utah! How could this be?

We searched the heavens and the earths for an explanation, and, like Archimedes in the bathtub, the solution suddenly presented itself. Every time Kurt left town, the snow started falling. And kept falling. Until he returned. And then it stopped. And kept stopping.

And so, relucatant as we may have been, we put out a call across the land, seeking a replacement Kurt.

We had low expectations (see: Kurt 1.0) but were delighted when we found an ideal substitute in our very first candidate. Kurt 2.0 has all of the features as the original, but with a few important upgrades. First, and most important, he brings snow. Lots of snow. Acres of fresh white inches. The guy’s a damned rabbit’s foot. Also, he can cook. And, he’s got a medical background, which could come in handy if we continue to push ourselves beyond the limits of our collectively decaying physicality. 

Alas, poor Kurt 1.0, we knew him well. But now he must be relegated to the scrap heap of history along with the other famous jinxes such as Babe Ruth, that stupid Wrigley Field goat, and that douche who said God couldn’t sink the Titanic.

White Inches Poster

Suitable for framing

Because We Care

Most of White Inches’ community service is court-ordered and involves an orange jumpsuit, trash bags and the BQE. But recently, in a rare display of altruism, we decided to give a little something back to the community by serving as chaperones for an 8^th grade ski trip. For the students, it was an opportunity to benefit from our life’s wisdom, socio-political insights and, of course, our vast knowledge of skiing technique. For us, it was a free day on the hill.

Our destination was the frozen tundra of Windham Mountain. And despite the enormity of the resort and its myriad challenges (chutes, cornices, tree wells, mogul fields, etc.) we are happy to report that all of our charges emerged unscathed. The snow condition forecast - morning ice with a chance of afternoon slush - proved accurate, so we spent most of the day dragging the kids around looking for decent turns. The snow gods rewarded our efforts when we made our way over to Wolverine and found a powder field of untracked, ankle-deep, man-made freshies. Of course, we spent the rest of the day there soaking up calf shots until it was time to pack the kids back onto the bus and retire to the Chateau for beer and jerky.

Two noteworthy tidbits from an enjoyable-but-otherwise-uneventful day: (1) Much to Schlüz’ chagrin, and Güzo’s delight, all of the kids in the advanced group were two-plankers. Maybe all of the knuckle draggers are new school and chose to spend their time in the pipe or the terrain park. Or maybe they were just intimidated by the Windham steeps. (2) The girls VASTLY outclassed the boys. Fellas, we suggest you take off your skirts and step up your game before next season.