Snowboarding on a Big Mountain

Now I know why snowboarding leads the way in waterproof pants. I didn’t wear that kind of clothing today, and now I’m soaked to the skin from a day of snowboarding.

Today we went to Buttermilk. It was mostly because it was my wife’s first day here, and she wanted an easy start to things. Another reason is that we expected it to be a “flat light” day. As it turns out, though, it was one of the sunniest days around. That made the decision to use the day to ride even better.

I’m often more anxious to get going in the morning than the other members of my party, and that certainly was the case today. We had a powder day! And it was my first time out west, on my own snowboard. More importantly, it was going to be the first day I rode with any degree of competence out west. Oh, I had taken a lesson out here last year, but it was such a tortured performance. I had managed to make it from the summit to the base, but that was due to determination more than skill.

Unfortunately for my anxious plans, we got a late start to the morning, first in leaving the hotel at 9 A.M. (when the lift opens). We were, as my wife’s sister put it, “a herd of turtles” that day. And then we missed the bus.

Aspen has a good bus system for tourists. I imagine it is financed through taxes on hotel rooms and restaurants, because I’ve never dropped as much as a penny into the farebox. (Step on the bus after “ski hours,” though, and you have to pay.)

When the next bus came along 10 minutes later–time’s a wastin’ away!–it was packed. The four of us looked at each other, deciding whether to climb on the bus and stand the whole way, or not. I got on the bus. The others stayed behind.

It was just as well. They had to stop at the rental shop anyway, which would take away precious more time from my snowboarding adventure. We agreed to meet at the top of Buttermilk’s west terrain. It is the easiest of all the slopes in Aspen, but it was going to be enough of a challenge for me.

Once at Buttermilk, I thought, ever so briefly, of getting on the ski school lift. I often live by the motto “make your first run on the easiest part of the mountain,” but I disregarded that today. For one thing, the ski school lift wasn’t even as steep as the mini-hill I call my home “mountain.” So no need to take that lift. As I took the ten minute (or so) ride up to the top, I was so excited about finally getting a chance to ride in a larger area that I knew that skipping the easier lift was the right thing to do.

If the theme of the 1960s was “Everybody’s Surfin’,” then the theme today was “Everybody’s Ridin'” a snowboard. Nine out of every ten people I saw on the mountain, from the lift, was on a snowboard. I knew that Buttermilk was popular with snowboarders, but were they really that dominant? (As it turns out, there was a competition going on over at the Tiehack side that day. I never made it there.)

There’s one benefit riding on a small Midwestern hill: it gives you plenty of chances to learn how to descend from the lift chair. I had worried that I might have a more difficult time taking on the higher, longer descent from the Aspen lifts. But I had no problem.

SOLO
After riding over to Buttermilk West, I started with the easiest possible route down, Homestead Road. (It’s more like a steep golf course than a mountain.) I felt pretty good riding on a big mountain, even if it was on a mild route on the easiest side of the easiest mountain in Aspen. I was, after all, riding out west, regardless.

I left the road after it turned into a catwalk with a slight incline, and dropped into Westward Ho (another green trail), and stuck with that until I got to the new mid-mountain lift. After that I took another green trail (Larkspur) for my second solo run.

It was then time for a little showboating underneath the lift. That area used to be an off-limits, but when the ski company put in the new lift, they widened the trail and opened it up to the public.

I found shifting, double fall lines, which made things more interesting. But the biggest trouble came from being nervous about riding close to the trees and lift posts. A couple of quick turns, started in anxiety, lead to falls as I washed out.

LOOK AT ME!
Soon enough I met up with everyone else: my wife, her sister, and their 70-plus year old father. We played with the various green trails, sometimes descending to the base, and sometimes stopping at the midpoint lift station.

But the morning wasn’t confined to the easiest terrain. I made a smooth trip down the lower part of Camp Bird, a blueish pitch that had given me fits last year. And I ended up following my sister-in-law into the bottom of Lower Larkspur, a bumps trail that I had not even attempted on skis.

As I’ve noted before, powder is an excellent environment for learning and improving your snowboarding skills. The early runs today were filled with slightly-used powder. I had enough untracked snow to give me the confidence to gather some speed and make some turns.

We took up a blue trail (Teaser) before heading in for a late lunch at 12:50. I was pretty much done for the day, though I did not know it yet.

TALKIN’ ‘BOUT THIGH BURN
After lunch we headed over to Tiehack, a more difficult part of Buttermilk. (Its black runs would be blue at other area mountains).

But I could not keep up the pace. My thighs were in pain, a lot of pain. Especially in my leading (right) foot. I had made a point of over-weighting that foot. While that’s not as good as having a balanced stance, it’s better than over-weighting my back foot.

I took it easy on the way down Buckskin (a blue trail on Tiehack), and did much better once I got out of the chopped-up stuff, and into the packed powder. My conclusion for the day: powder is great. Packed powder is fine. Chopped up stuff that presents mini-moguls is hard.

After this one trip over to the Tiehack side of things, I waited back at the restaurant for the others before a final run down.