From Stupid to Stupid Deep

Okay, okay. I am being a bit of a wise-a** when I say that. Snow biking is not stupid. Really. I think it just has to be done it the right conditions to be "fun." My first ride just happened to be during less than ideal conditions.

Me and T-Race shreddin'.

Last Friday I rented a Pugsley from Fitzy for the weekend and arranged to go out for long day with the Junkie (thanks for the photo) and T-Race. Byers and I were supposed to go to Camp Lynda (it was canceled due to a bad weather forecast) so we wanted to simulate a big block of training on snow instead.

Enter the snowbike. Or what I now like to affectionately refer to as the "struggle-buggy." Our 3 hour ride turned into what felt like 2.5 hrs of pushing and for me about 20 min of falling over and 10 min. of riding! The company was fantastic however and if I spent more time here in the winter I would consider a Pugsley purchase. Ha. Kidding. I think I'll stick to skate skiing.

I re-aligned my priorities Saturday morning. The Pugsley was parked in the garage and that is where it stayed for the rest of the weekend. Instead, Nate, Frank T. and I headed out the door at 6:15am for a dawn patrol Glory lap. Breaking trail up to 10,000 feet in 17" of new is a far superior workout and experience than any on-the-bike training I could do. Holy-moly was it deep up there. Nate headed to the Village to teach after a lap and I kept it going for a few more south-side laps with a posse of my favorite peeps.

Suze goes deep.

Mike, Matt and Frank all smiles.

Sunday morning we woke up to another dream day: 20 more inches of new! The avy danger had increased to high by Sunday, so a day at the Village was in order. I slept in and timed it perfectly. I walked up to a surprisingly fast-moving gondi line at 10:30 just as they opened the mountain for the day. I prefer skiing the backcountry but skiing lifts in 40" of recent snowfall is priceless. Anywhere you went it was good. I found myself modifying my tele stance because I couldn't handle being hit in the face with powder anymore. It was a snorkel and nose-plug kind of day.

Monday called for another dawn patrol. It snowed again all day Sunday, so why not? Herb, Nate and I were walking at 6:45am and had a dream run down Turn 2. You know those runs you dream of? This was it. The wind had totally buffed it out and it was deep as deep can be, light and we had a perfect 2,500 ft. vertical drop to enjoy it on. Giggle-inducing powder. A perfect reminder of why we live where we live. As Nate always says whenever I say I want to move, once you ski here it's really hard to go anywhere else. He's right.My honey in a recent ad for Jackson Hole. Is it hard skiing with a husband who defines "perfect form"? Nah. He goes easy on me most of the time.

But, all good things must end. I'm heading to Tucson for the month of February to get back in the pro-mountain biker mode and train. I'm sure when I suit up for my first ride and am slathering on the SPF 1-million I will be just tickled to be there.

In the meantime, more snow is in the forecast all week. Maybe Tucson can wait?