by Adam Smith

We had been skiing and snowmobiling in the Colorado backcountry for about two hours when I had this serene ski run. Darren and I had driven from Denver, to Robbers Roost within the Arapahoe National Forest, near the Winter Park/Mary Jane ski area. With his red pick-up truck outfitted with a camper and snow gear, we towed his two snowmobiles. The drive took around two hours since it was Sunday, and the traffic going to a ski resort from Denver is always horrendous on the weekends. But we weren’t headed to the slopes of Winter Park or Mary Jane, but to Robbers Roost where we backcountry skied all day with the assistance of a snowmobile. The snowmobile served as our chair lift, and the vast national forest was our ski area.

We arrived at the parking lot around 9:30am, with plenty of time to explore the huge park with its many steep slopes, open faces, trees, and endless champagne powder. There were several other pickups and SUVs in the lot all connected to trailers, either empty or with snowmobiles. The ones still bearing the weight of these heavy machines were soon to be unloaded by their respective owners. All of these people had come to ride on crotch rockets, no matter whether they were experts or novices. There were many tour groups, who reminded me of the herds that swarm ski areas every day. To the obsessive snowmobiler these amateurs must be obnoxious, but they don’t annoy me as much as the gapers on the slopes. These tourists were going to stick to the main roads, and definitely wouldn’t be poaching the areas I wanted to ski. Darren and I were the odd ones; our purpose was in the snow, for the floating feeling you get only when skiing deep powder. We had fun driving the snowmobile, but our purpose was to ski, and to ski a lot.

There are many trails throughout the Colorado backcountry that are strictly designated to skiing and snowshoeing that don’t allow motorized vehicles. Even where snowmobiles are allowed to go there are certain slopes that are restricted to skiing. This separation allows for people of all recreations to enjoy the backcountry experience. Since most snowmobilers stick to the trails and roads, there is minimal ecological impact on the national forests. The worse aspect of a snowmobile is the noise pollution, but the many secluded trails for skiing and snowshoeing enables people to enjoy the backcountry without hearing the ruckus of a motorized sled.

As soon as the truck was parked, we hopped out in anticipation of the day. I helped Darren unload a snowmobile, the one that would enable us to backcountry ski without the exhaustion of hiking. We left the other snowmobile on the trailer. Once the sled was on the snow, Darren cranked it up and let it run while we got everything together.

I started to dress myself in my regular skiing apparel. As I slid my feet into the casts of my ski boots, I couldn’t help wincing. The uncomfortable feel of a ski boot was a minor price to pay for the enjoyment of skiing untouched powder. Darren adorned himself as well. He is a mountain of a man, and I couldn’t help noticing that his ski pants were a little bit too small for him. I figured that he probably has a hard time finding ski pants that fit him since a man of his stature is usually associated with a basketball court or a football field.

We strapped his skis and my poles to the back of the snowmobile using small bungee cords. Darren tied his tow rope to the rear of the machine; this object Darren concocted himself. It was one of those yellow ropes, pretty slender, that has almost a plastic feel to it. Attached to the end is a bike tire tube that is cut so it is not a circle but a curved length of rubber. After I clicked into my Solomon bindings I grabbed the makeshift towing rope. The tube goes around your waist and you hold onto it and the yellow rope with one hand. It’s actually quite genius. Once the snowmobile starts to move you don’t get a sudden jerk but the elasticity of the rubber allows for a smooth takeoff. As the snowmobile pulls away the tube stretches until there is enough pressure to get your skis sliding, and you’re off. Without the rubber bike tube, being towed around all day would be very taxing on your forearms and skiing stamina.

So after the process of readying the machine and suiting up in our ski gear, we cruised down the cat track; me being towed behind, Darren driving the fast sled. Getting towed behind a snowmobile on snow skis isn’t that much different than towing behind a ski boat on a lake. You can gain momentum by pulling on the rope and setting an edge, using the power of the machine to propel yourself forward to the side of the snowmobile. Since all of the gas powered machines stayed on the cat track I could use the force of the snowmobile to ride some powder on the side while I towed to where we skied.

It took about fifteen minutes to reach the skiing terrain a couple of miles from the parking lot. We were in a bowl, looking up. On our left was a short face, untouched by vegetation or other skiers. In front of us the cat track continued to the top of the hill and beyond, on the right, there were trees. We could see that there weren’t any tracks, just pristine powder.

My first two runs were on the left face. Darren towed me to the top of the hill on the snowmobile and let me loose. As I stood on the edge of the beautiful bowl I couldn’t help thinking how lucky I was. I was standing on top of a serene slope. In front of me was smooth powder that hadn’t been touched by a skier in a long time, if ever. The best part of all was that there wasn’t a tourist in sight. After about five minutes of reflecting on where I was I decided to finally taste the powder I had come to ski. I floated over the snow sinking as I made my turns and bouncing up as I shifted my weight to my other ski. It was exhilarating to ski powder like this. When I reached the bottom of the face Darren drove up alongside of me and I grabbed the rope. We flew off again for another undisturbed run. The second run was just as good -- the consistency in the backcountry is astounding.

After I had my two runs on the face, Darren and I switched duties. I took over the driving and Darren clicked into his bindings. I wasn’t discouraged by this switch because driving the snowmobile was almost as much fun as skiing powder. I drove Darren up to the top of the face and watched him as he pushed himself over the edge.

Watching someone ski in powder is a beautiful thing. Darren started to fade down the mountain as his turns produced clouds of snow obscuring him from sight as he hit the bottom of his turns. His methodic turning was hypnotizing as he bounced up and down, up and down in the bottomless snow. I drove down a less steep part of the face to pick him up. As I came upon him covered in white snow, I saw a sheepish grin on his face. I didn’t even have to ask, his smile told me how much he had enjoyed the run. I looked back up the face to where we had skied and saw three distinct curvy lines in the otherwise untouched snow, resembling three sleek snakes. Darren wanted round two so he grabbed the rope and I took off to the top. After some runs on the treeless face, we changed scenery to weave in and out of the pines.

The trees were great because the snow was protected from wind and sun so that the powder was a little deeper and a little lighter. The section was a lot longer than the short face, and we spent a good part of the day making laps in these woods, not crossing another track unless it was our own. We took a little lunch break with some sandwiches and trail-mix. While we ate we talked about the great skiing conditions that are always present in the Colorado backcountry.

After lunch we moved locations two more times to check out some different terrain. One run we discovered was steep with many little cliffs to drop off into the soft fluff below. The other was a pretty flat run through some widely spaced pines, still untouched like everywhere else. As I grabbed the rope for the tow back to the parking lot I reflected on the day. We had spent $30 on gas to get to the mountains and to fill up the machines, while we would have spent $60 apiece for a single day ski ticket. We had skied untracked powder all day without waiting in line. We had avoided hoards of people on the ski slopes and had loved every minute of it. One day of skiing like this is worth a hundred on a big ski mountain. The experience, the friendship, and the powder are unbelievable.

On a ski mountain the only time one has a chance to ski powder like this is when it snows 12" the night before and you get on the slopes when the lifts open. By the time noon comes around all of the powder is tracked out because of the herds of people. In the backcountry though, you can ski all day without crossing another skier’s track. The vast national forests that allow snowmobiling throughout Colorado are not commonly used for backcountry skiing, making our experience that much more special. I despise flocks of tourists on big resort mountains, but in the backcountry I didn’t have to deal with this in any way. The snowmobile allowed us to find seclusion and the desired slopes where we could ski in peace. In these conditions we could return to the roots of skiing; no OUT-OF-BOUNDS or SLOW signs, but the freedom to ski pristine powder on any slope that caught our eye.