After my escape from the small aspen grove, we bumbled down one of the easier Snowmass slopes – Hal’s Hollow. Forty Years ago, my sister and I, in our first week at Snowmass, gained confidence in big mountain skiing by conquering our fears on
Now, I limped down with washout vision – my right eye seemed to be transmitting just a blur of bright light, as if the brightness and contrast controls on a TV were turned all the way up. No definition, no way to tell where the slope turned steeper. Luckily, on this beginner run, all of those issues were engineered out of existence, mashed flat by the snowcats, grinding away the previous day’s foot of new snow.
By the time we got back up to the top, my eyesight had returned to normal, and we took off for the Burn. This place is a mile wide swath at the top of the mountain, where a forest fire about 135 years ago seared off many of the firs and pines, leaving a broad open space to swoop and play in. Given the slow pace of re-growth at this altitude (11,000 feet above sea level), and the 4 to 6 foot snow depth, there are many places where the tree patches allow easy access to evergreen skiing.
The Burn also has an interesting slope to it, starting out very shallow, and gradually getting steeper and steeper towards the bottom, then opening up onto Max Park, a broad gentle valley feeding into the lift basin. It’s hard to feel intimidated there.
At the very top, the trees were untouched by the fire, but the high elevation and deep snow, keeps the undergrowth at bay, and the tree density is more spaced out than 2000 feet lower. So the first section affords a great introduction to tree skiing. The paths through are somewhat narrow, but the speed is slow, due to the shallow slope. Once into the Burn proper, the vista opens up, and we traverse left to Powerline Glades. A little steeper, a little more open due to the fire, and than back once more across Mick’s Gully to another open slope, and hit the shelf where the Burn ends, the slope gets steeper, and true ski runs have been cut down to Max Park.
Here, the tree skiing happens between the runs. Here, one can use the confidence built up above to get into some challenge and growth. Here, Annie begins to learn just what it takes to end up intact through the trees.
She has a big grin on her face as she pops out at the bottom. She holds up her left hand for a high five, and announces, “That was really hard!. It takes a lot of concentration!”
“Yeah, that’s what’s fun about the trees – you have to let the spaces tell you where to turn, and you can’t let up or you’ll hit something. So you’re constantly paying attention – exercising your brain as well as your legs.”
“Can we do that again!?”
“We can do it all day if you want to.”
One of the best places we find is Longshot, from the top of the Elk Camp lift. On most days, the view of the iconic Maroon Bells distracts first timers trying to hop gracefully off the lift. Today, they are out in full force, glistening in the cloudless sky with the fresh snow climbing their terraced flanks.
We turn left, away from the view, and scoot down then up towards the top of Burnt Mountain. Off with the boards, and then we trudge on up, following the boot holes to the top. Five minutes later, we’re on a flat mountaintop meadow.
“Basically, you can go down anywhere you want here – the top is not so steep, and there’s no real run until a quarter of the way down.”
The fire apparently leapt east across the Cirque, climbed through the upper trees under the High Alpine lift, then jumped Hanging Valley up onto Burnt Mountain, where it scorched the upper 800’ or so, leaving another set of nicely spaced routes through the natural terrain.
Annie follows me down, trying to do every turn with me. How she does this on a snowboard, I don’t know, as she’s always behind me, and I never see her until I stop. But she’s always there, every time I turn, and I know that another Tree Skier has been born.