I hop on the 8 o’clock chair with a few Ski Patrollers at Durango Mountain Resort (DMR). I ask one of the patrollers what he thought of a recent article that seemed to suggest Ski Patrollers across the state lack in training.
“That article made us sound like a bunch of un-trained monkeys!” exclaimed TJ, a veteran patroller at DMR. “I resent that. We’re highly trained monkeys.”
The vibe here is relaxed, even on dawn-patrol. The snow has already begun to soften up on this late-March day. Festivities at the base area, known to locals as “the Beach” will include snow bowling, a pig roast, and of course, beer. Did I mention it’s college day?
“That’ll bring the rabble out for sure.” remarks Scott Clements, director of the Patrol at DMR. I’ve seen closing day at DMR before. It usually means costumes, antics, and lots of fun, so I know it’s going to be a good day to shadow the patrollers.
Despite the chucklings about the laid-back vibe of spring skiing in Colorado, Ski Patrol is diligent about their job. It’s business-as-usual in the Patrol Shack. The morning meeting begins with grooming reports, station assignments, and the typical razzing of the rookie. The only think significantly different today is sitting on a table in front of me… (continue reading…)
[WARNING: This blog post is NSFW - Employees: if your boss sees you reading it, you can kiss your next powder day goodbye. Kids: do NOT let your parents see this unless they're very cool, or already have the Powder Flu themselves. Read with caution]
You don’t want to be sick, right? But you do want the conditions to be sick out on the slopes. So what happens when you’re not sick, but the conditions are? Colorado Ski Country has the answer. It’s called the powder flu, and it’s extremely contagious around here.
Fashion and function are awkward bedfellows when it comes to skiing and snowboarding. Some say that style trumps all – these folks can be seen at nearly any aprés spot, prominently displaying their brand name, slope-chic couture. Others claim that function is what matters, as evidenced by their devotion to cheap hardware store work gloves and the duct tape patches on their Gore-Tex. So which group is right? Style or substance? Fashion or function? Being seen, or being seen skiing? Colorado Ski Country USA’s Mountain Correspondent hit the slopes to find out…
While our member resorts hosted festivals, fireworks, and torchlight parades to ring in the New Year, I was miles from all of it in Colorado’s backcountry somewhere between Aspen and Leadville. For the first time since I’ve lived in Colorado I didn’t celebrate the New Year in the bars in a mountain town, but rather in a hut in the backcountry.
This blog comes to CSCUSA from Kristen Lummis of BraveSkiMom.com. You can read more from Kristen at www.BraveSkiMom.com.
When our children were learning to ski, we used a hula hoop, a harness and an Edgie-Wedgie a lot. While I still see those tried-and-true tools on mountain, new teaching aids are developed all of the time. Sorting through what works and what doesn’t, what’s worth the investment and what isn’t, can be confusing.
So to find out what really works in the world of learn-to-ski tools, I turned to Earl Saline, my number one learn-to-ski resource at Professional Ski Instructors of America/American Association of Snowboard Instructors (PSIA-AASI). (continue reading…)
I recently took the kids to Loveland for their first ski day this season. We had a wonderful day skiing, being outside in the mountains, enjoying the mild temperatures (read: no whining because of being cold), spending time together and finding our ski legs after the long summer. The hard part was getting a decent photo.
If you love après-ski just as much as the skiing itself, you’re probably familiar with the dilemma I faced on A-Basin’s Opening Day this year—the lift line or the mug line. If you’re not in the mug line when it starts forming at 7am, you’re out of luck because they sell out of these Bad Larrys by mid-day on Opening Day each year.
This year, I chose mug line over lift line. Okay, okay, so actually my boyfriend diligently waited in the mug line, outside of the 6th Alley Bar, while I did my “official” duties of watching first chair. As luck would have it, I strolled back into the A-frame just in time to notice he was only a few people away from the register. Not so lucky for everyone else, I hopped into line with him while nonchalantly chatting up his line neighbors hoping they didn’t call me out for being a skipper. Yes, it was much like being in elementary school. They didn’t seem to mind and I was on my way to becoming a first time Mug Club member.