Altitude: 10,460ft – 1500ft
4/7/2024
The day was almost over and with it, our ski season. We were searching for something memorable for our last and final ski run of the year. We’d been powder chasing at Mammoth all weekend and were eyeing an untouched powder run above the top of the lift and wanted to give it a go. If we could send it, it would make for an inspiring final run. The question was, how do we get there? We had hiked to many runs inbounds at ski resorts. Most were straight-forward and well-trafficked. This one however, was elusive which made it all the more appealing.
Attempt #1
The area surrounding the run was rugged and it was not hike-able from where we got off the lift. We headed around the base of the rocks and noted a potential route – though hazardous, especially in my ski boots.
There was no visible trail. It was a steep face covered in loose gravel with no snow for traction. About 20 feet up, there were large rocks guarding what was likely an impassable stretch across the ridge to the powder.
Jake started up, no hesitation. He quickly gained some ground and made it up the initial stretch. Snowboard boots, in contrast to ski boots, have flexible soles and decent traction, and Jake’s served him well. Despite my doubts, I wanted to at least try. I took a breath and took a step. Ski boots were a no go. With no traction, every step was a gamble. If any of the rocks below my foot slipped, I would be on my face and sliding too, all the way down. I didn’t fancy that outcome and decided it wasn’t worth it. I would ski around and watch Jake savor the powder from the top.
Attempt #2
But… maybe there was another way. I strapped back into my skis and continued around the rocks. Not more than 20 feet down, on the side of the mountain, a ramp appeared before me. About 10 feet wide, a nice, gentle slope, with plenty of snow. With enough speed, you could make it pretty far without even unclipping. The best part was, there were footprints meaning we weren’t the only crazies to try this today.
I unclipped, tucked my skis under my arm, and headed up. The snow was deep in some parts but no worse than I’d done in the past. A lot of it was wind-blown and my boots barely sank in. Overall, one of the easier ski hikes I’d done.
As I was reaching the top of the run, Jake called my name, and I looked up. He was smiling down at me with another sheer (though small) cliff between us. So I hadn’t made it all the way up with my alternate route, but I was grateful for my decision. Jake appeared unharmed from the rocks but I wasn’t sure I would have secured the same fate.
Sending It
We admired the view and scoped out the run. The line that I would take was below and to the left of the line Jake would take. The snow for both of us, pristine. It was the fresh, fluffy, powder that we had been chasing all weekend. I clipped in, called to Jake, “Sending!” and pushed off down the run.
There’s nothing like the feeling of skiing through fresh powder. I’ll ride groomers all day and have a great time, but the powder runs, those are the memorable ones. There’s a reason people will hike, and climb, and mountaineer for hours just to find those perfect powder runs in the backcountry. Gliding down the run, floating on top of the snow, you try to stay afloat for as long as you can; when you sink down a little it’s like cutting through the smoothest butter you’ll ever eat. It’s a challenge, sure, especially in my narrow skis, but when you get it just right, you can’t help but let out a “Whoo-hoo-hoo!”
Leave a Reply