
Report from Wednesday, January 18, 2023
High-noon.
It was calm.
The sun danced in and out from transitory clouds.
A woodpecker repetitively ticked away at a stump in an otherwise empty aspen grove.
The air was warm, even on top of the peak.

I scoped the south-facing zone, planned my line, and traversed over to the drop-point.
Clouds shrouded me so I waited for the sun to creep its way back into the mountains.
A moment of grace followed.
Slowly, a golden glow began to slither its way up the mountainside, causing the snow crystals to glitter like diamonds.
Time to drop.
I had been apprehensive that by now the sun would have cooked the snow a bit, but my first few turns were blower.
Light, dry, blower Utah powder snow.
I made aggressive turns down the slide path in the sunshine.
Looming, intimidating peaks were circled awl around me.
The run went all the way to the highway.
I was elated.
100โณ of snow in the past two weeks made for some damn good skiing today.
On the road I stuck my thumb out and a lovely couple on the way to Brighton shuttled me back to my car.
They asked me how it was.
โYou guys are in for a treat today,โ I said.
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