Ride Breaks VS. Lunch Breaks

"Umm... Mountain Station, not sure if you care but there are two skiers coming down Casper Bowl right now."

"Oh, we care. Bridger?"

"We're on it."

Radio banter as the evening turns to Blue Bird. With the Tetons blanketed a North Westerly wind pulls the covers over the valley and all those below the headboard of this mountain range pursue their apres ski dreams.

For me, The Clash plays in the background as I watch the bright sun rays set behind the Westerly peaks.

My day began flying Car 1 in a 60 mph NW wind and swinging too close to tower 5 with the TGnaR crew and our savvy Tram Mechanic Josh. However it was a swift recovery from there. I was fortunate to get the 9:00 break... the "Garth" break, 50 minutes during the opening hour of public operations.

1st Tram with my Amer friend from Ogden, straight to South Hoback. A buffed bowl, to Our Trail to my sickest south boundary run of the season. Then halfway back up Union Pass lift I hear over the radio that we had beat our own Tram by a sizable lead. We decided to go for a second lap, but this would require me beating my own Tram again and being ready on the dock in order to relieve Virgil, my fellow operator who had just flown me to the top for my second run. Risky move... I know, but worth it if it can be done right.

And it was. Racing down a milk bottle Bowl, with no visibility and a bit of vertigo I began to question my decision to poach another run. I caught my breath, by slowing my turns and clearing my head. I had told Mike that it was going to be a fast run, but I ended up loosing him before getting to Sublette chair. Apparently Cheyenne Gully was too inviting.

One look back, no signs of my friend... A-line to Lower Tram Line, to sick pow slashes directly underneath Car 2 and the knowledge that I am going to make it in time to relieve Mr. Virgil Swords. What a break!
Who needs lunch when you eat powder for breakfast?

Party on Wayne, this is Garth signing off. Much love from JHMR!

The Wisperings of the Wind

It's 4:31 at 10,450Ft
- wind speed 30 mph, gusting to 45 mph
- 16 degrees F
- visibility, poor
- light, flat
It's snowing currently, the sun is setting and I am anticipating a blistery Wyoming night on Rendezvous Mountain.

Radars tell us a storm is churning to the West of us... a foot and a half expected by Monday. RPK 2 tonight and a 7:00 X-car. Mmmm... the smell of sulfur in the morning and the dynamite blasts to bring up the sun.

The wind is telling stories of the past; the stories that dwell in this Hole. Moran to Hoback, with the Snake winding down the center. Teewinot, The Grand, Middle and South, Cloudveil, Fossil, Buck and Owen. My Great Horned Owl peaks are enveloped in weather, but the stories are told through the cracks of the shack. There are stories of persistence and perseverance. Every living creature in this valley fights for survival in this Arctic/Alpine desert. There are stories whispering through the windows of pain and joy, of victory and defeat, along with secrets of those that mill about below the wisdom of the mountains.

As we approach Winter Solstice, I am drawn back to the reality of nearly 200 inches of snow falling upon us during the interim of winter. Christmas is around the corner and the festivities abound, with Santa repelling form Car 2 of the Tram and into the village commons. I now sit quietly at the top of the world and listen to the radio chatter of Ski Patrol, as they sweep the mountain of any overnight guests.