My favorite posts on social media involve friends sharing their passions, particularly those of an artistic, outdoorsy, athletic, or adventurous nature. Kindred spirits exploring and engaging both the world around us and ourselves, each of us doing so in our own special way. None of us able to adequately describe what drives us. But the drive needs no explanation because we share it.
The forecast suggested new snow at higher elevations in Northern Vermont. I had a voucher to burn so I set my alarm extra early and made the drive to Stowe looking forward to a few inches (which would be a top five day of the year for my season). With modest expectations, I boarded the Forerunner and prepared for disappointment.
What I found was startling…
Today was the tenth day and first powder day of my season. During an average season, I would have had at least that many powder days and more than double that many total days by the end of February. But this is not an average season. And today was not an average powder day.
I was only expecting a few inches, just enough to soften things up. But instead, Jay got coated in eight amazing inches. The dense snow felt bottomless even though I knew it wasn’t. I thought I might go an entire season without a powder day. But I finally got one. Perhaps my only one of the entire season.
Powder days have been so exceedingly rare this season that you might ask for pics or not believe that it happened. It did happen but I can’t prove it. After booting up, I looked at the zipped top pocket of my bag where I store my camera. And then I looked away and started walking towards the door.
I was sitting on the Jet having singled up with a father and his son. They were talking most of the ride about skiing. But then the father pulled out his phone and started typing. His son desperately tried to get his attention but the father continually asked for, no, insisted on silence so he could futz around with his device. He was out of the moment, momentarily oblivious to his surroundings, intentionally unaware of what deserved his full attention.
Today wasn’t about documenting and reporting. It wasn’t about trying to capture the conditions or available lines in ones and zeros. Today was about skiing hard, being in the moment, and treasuring each untracked turn. Every fucking one of them. I didn’t need a picture to remember today. How could I ever forget?
Earlier this week, I wondered if it would be possible to ski more days this month than I had last month. Thankfully, I am now halfway towards that benchmark. The weather forecast didn’t seem likely to deliver enough snow for earned turns. But several online reports on Saturday suggested otherwise. The Mansfield Stake recorded 8″ up high but I also knew there would be far less down low.
Despite the warming temperatures, there was enough snow to start skinning from the base of Nosedive. I am always thankful to have my skis on the snow rather than on my back during the ascent. It felt great to be skinning again and I was anxious to ski natural snow for the first time in many months. But with only an inch of snow on top of fast grass down low, I knew that I would not be skiing top to bottom.
Jay has taught me to always keep my expectations in check. High expectations can lead to disappointment even when conditions are better than average. And some of my fondest days are those that I expected less than stellar conditions.
But today I got exactly what I was expecting, yet another six inch powder day. A base that never seems to fully consolidate off piste. Never ending packed powder with frequent but never substantial reloads. Without the highs and the lows, we just experience a dull constant. A few inches here, a few inches there. It is nice but never epic.
This is the season of the ho-hum powder day.