Wind, Snow, and Bombs

By Carson Bennett, 2-25-08

	Caption: The Abominable SnowMansion

Monday, 8:45am - I’m lined up with the early-birds, hoping for first chair or as close to it as I can get. I want to take a run before my second ski week lesson starts at 10:00.

It’s snowing, but not that nice fluffy snow that falls slowly, gently ironing out the mountain’s bumps and troughs. No. This snow is wind powered. It shoots horizontally across the base of the mountain. Those of us lined up at chair one duck into our coats, pull balaclavas over our faces, but we don’t get out of line.

At 9:00, when the lift is supposed to open, it doesn’t. By 9:15 groups of ski instructors and ski patrollers have gathered in small groups, heads close together, once in a while pointing up the mountain where chair one fades from sight in a haze of clouds and snow ripping across the face. I hear ski patrol bombing the mountain, ka-BOOM, ka-BOOM echoing through the valley. The wind gets stronger. Now it’s nearly a whiteout at the base. I can hardly imagine what it’s like up top.

At 9:40 lift one starts up and the crowd cheers, but they don’t let anyone on except for a few ski patrollers. They disappear into the driven snow. By 10:00 another patroller wades into the crowd with an announcement. I can’t hear him over the wind, but within a few minutes the information filters through the crowd. 70 mph winds at the top of chair two. The patrollers who just went up couldn’t even get off the lift, the wind was blowing so hard.

Obviously, ski school is canceled for the day. There will have to be a make-up day later in the week. As I sling my skis over my shoulder I see my instructor, Dano, walking through the crowd. He waves at me. “You heard those explosions?” he asks. “Not all of them were bombs. Some of that was thunder.”

At 11:30 the ski patrol calls it. Lift one will not be open today, but they will open the bunny hill for those who simply must make some turns. Short turns, but turns nonetheless.

I opt out, and head back down the mountain to Arroyo Seco where I’m staying in a hostel called the “Abominable SnowMansion.” The gas fireplace in the center of the main room is flickering away, and after I change into jeans and a big chunky sweater I select a book from their extensive collection, plop myself down on the couch next to the fire, and settle in for the afternoon.

The Abonimable SnowMansion is a fantastic place to stay for an extended ski week. With a full kitchen, tons of books, wireless internet, comfortable bunks, friendly staff, and new people to meet, it is an inexpensive, comfortable home away from home. A bunk at the SnowMansion will only set you back $22 during the ski season, or $18 in the summer. They also have private rooms with their own bathrooms, a couple cabins out back, and when the weather’s nice you can pay $12 to camp on their lawn and still have access to the bathroom, shower, and kitchen. I highly recommend the SnowMansion any time of year, but especially during the winter when there’s nothing better than skiing all day and returning to a warm fire, a home cooked meal, and friendly folks to share the day’s stories with.

I read until I get hungry, then make myself a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup in the kitchen and chat with a group of Australians who are tooling across the country in a van in two weeks, from New York to San Francisco, before they fly back to Melbourne. Surprisingly, they aren’t planning to ski. I spend half an hour trying to convince them that tomorrow will be an epic day, and they really should stay, but they have a strict itinerary. Denver tomorrow, Salt Lake City the next day, then Las Vegas, Los Angeles, and San Francisco. I realize I would much rather stay in one place, get to know it, than drive as far as I can to see as many places as I can in as little time as possible. I’m lucky that I have four more days here.