Ski Season #3 Begins

People who live in the mountains tend to say -- ad nauseam, if I might add -- "If you don't like the weather, wait thirty minutes -- it'll change." This weekend we witnessed that phenomenon firsthand.

Thanksgiving morning dawned sunny and bright, so while the calendar dictated that it was the beginning of Aspen's ski season, it sure didn't feel like it around town.

Undaunted by the green landscape, I decided to head up to town and make some turns on Ajax. A quick shot of the current year's quiver. Each ski, like the clubs in a golf bag , serves a specific and vital purpose, with no overlap or redundancy.

Here's a quick view of the Little Nell from the gondola. As you can see, snowfall has been a rarity in the early season.

At the top of Aspen Mountain (Ajax) a ceremonial pre-first run photo. Behind my head and just to the right is Highlands Bowl, perhaps the best inbounds skiing in the continental US, with consistent 40 degree pitches for 1500 vertical feet. Just to the left of my head are the Five Fingers, backcounty pitches accessible from the top of Highlands Peak.

The skiing, as you might imagine, was awful. Only a few runs were open, and with hundreds of people eager to start their season scraping away the snow with every turn, it wasn't long before the conditions became downright scary. After about an hour of getting my legs under me, I made a hasty retreat to the safety of my couch.

As we settled in for dinner later that evening, storm clouds rolled in from the west, and before the last of the apple pie was consumed we had already accumulated nearly a foot of new snow in Aspen. This gave me all the motivation I needed to wake up early the next morning and take Maci for a climb and ski.

Applying skins to the bottom of my boards for the first time since April. For those of you unfamiliar with ski-mountaineering, skins -- when combined with a releasable heel on your binding -- allow you to climb on your skis without sliding.

I took the dynafits out for two simple reasons: they're really light and I'm woefully out of shape.

While there wasn't much new snow at our starting elevation of 8,000 feet, by the time we had ascended to 9,000 or so, Maci was up to her shoulders.

It was snowing heavily during the climb, and with visibility limited, most people chose to stick to the resort and Maci and I had this peak to ourselves.

Throughout the climb, Maci is free to roam ahead, frolicking and digging where she may. But when I call, she comes a-running.



Once we hit the ridge, the combination of cold and wind became too much for both of us so we decided it was time to do some skiing. As you can see, Maci gets a touch excited when we make the preparations to start heading downhill.

Once we start skiing, my main concern is keeping Maci from darting in front of me. Many a dog has been sliced open by a ski edge when they got a little too close. With the snow as deep as it was, this wasn't a huge concern as Maci is working so hard just to keep moving downhill, she doesn't have any energy to waste attacking my ski tips.

The dog and I made it downhill in one piece, even enjoying about 18 inches of powder for the first 900 vertical feet or so. All in all, not a bad start to the season.