Break a Rule, Pay the Price

 I don't ski on the weekends. Why should I? I am retired and I can ski during the week with no crowds, lift lines, or traffic. Well, this past Sunday, I bent the rule a little bit, or at least, I tried to. With encouragement from my neighbor, Pete, we decided that we could not pass up the foot and half of snow that fell Saturday night. The usual five minute drive to the mouth of Big Cottonwood Canyon took an hour and ten minutes. Every one was skiing today. We headed up the canyon and after a few miles we came to a curve. My car started sliding sideways right into the snowbank on the right. Even with four wheel drive I could not get the car out. The sheriff showed up and kindly pulled me out but also said I must go down canyon. With no argument we headed back down and went to breakfast. It was then I remembered my rule.

The next day was Monday. Hey, that is not a weekend day. I got to Solitude early and was in line before the lift opened. The rope dropped and off I went. There was still powder snow left from Sunday and about 3 inches of fresh snow that had fallen during the night. I got to the top of the lift and had to decide what run to take. I was up to the challenge

so I took Challenger. I am glad I did. The powder was soft and fluffy and I really felt like I was floating. I got down to the bottom and pushed the repeat button. I skied Serenity, Sundancer, Stumble, and Grumble. They all had great powder. Next I skied down Sunnyside to the Powderhorn lift. It was a slower lift but when I got to the top I headed to a run that we call "The Neighborhood". It was a run through gladed trees that almost always had good snow. This day did not disappoint. I had been waiting for my friend, Dick, to call me when he got there. I had skied almost a full day's worth when he called. We met up and I showed him all the great runs I had discovered. We debated wether or not to go to the Summit where we could ski Honeycomb Canyon. It had delayed opening so the patrol could do avalanche control. We learned that it had opened and we headed that way. We had to take a traverse and hike and climb to get to the deep powder run. We took a little short cut to avoid some climbing and it put us into some powder that was good but had already been skied. We skied down and when we got to the bottom my legs were gone. We now had to ski out the canyon. I followed Dick and I was moving pretty fast along the the trail when my right ski tip must have veered off and caught the edge of the trail. At that speed, I was quickly launched out of both skis and head long into the bank of powder snow. To my total amazement, I was all right. I checked to make sure everything was still connected and recovered my skis. One was in the trail and the other I dug out of the powder. I clicked in and skied to the lift where Dick was waiting. He said, "What happened?, Oh never mind, your helmet tells the story." I guess I had snow coming out of every vent and both ear holes on my helmet. Now it was time to head to the car and call it a day. And, what a day!