I read a blog called Wasatch Snow Forecast. Powderhounds who are meteorologists. Or meteorologists who are powderhounds. I don’t know. Might just be one guy. In fact, I think it is. So this Utah powderhound meteorologist writes about the Wasatch Range, weather, and powder skiing. Scientific, but personal, written by a serious enthusiast of both endeavors. And he likes to call the powder days. That is, predict the arrival of the snow as well as its quality, and about timing the skiing. Bluebird conditions, deep and soft, that sort of thing. This blog isn’t the only one devoted to Utah pow. There are others. But that’s not the point. The point is that WSF had this to say about our home:
The Pacific Northwest was a barren wasteland last year at this time.
So true! But that’s not the point either. The point is that things are looking up. I’ve made seven trips to Mt. Ashland in the last two weeks and got five great skiing days out of those trips. I could have skied another five days but I was fussy and only went when there was fresh snow. But there are piles of the stuff up there. Enough so that there will be skiing for some time. I prefer to ski the freshly fallen stuff, the elusive pow-pow, so I’ll be awaiting more storms. After this weekend the schoolkids will be back in school and their parents will be back at work so the slopes will have fewer folks. But the fact that so much has come already is the real good news. Here’s a visual:
Purple is good.
We look good.
Let’s hope it continues.
Happy New Year!
Pow-pow?
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I was riding up the chairlift at Mt A late one morning after me and my pal had a safety meeting in the trees on the previous run. I was excited by the fresh snow and babbling about how much fun I was having when he looked at me with the weary wisdom of years and said “Dude, it’s all about the pow-pow.”
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Your enthusiasm reminds me of mine at one time. At the time, you called me a quisling.
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Well, yeah. I am not responsible for Previous Mark, only Contemporary Mark.
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Mark Quisling-come-lately?
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Fuckin’ A!
My dad always used to say there was “no one worse than the recent convert.” Like sinners finding Jesus and alkies going on the wagon.
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