Winter’s Shadows.

Traces, shadows, ripples, remains…  Each moment has it’s immediate impact as well as another that can be felt long after.  Some things we work hard to forget, while other times it seems no matter how hard we try we can never remember something exactly as it was, or how we wished it might have been.  Moments compound, time shrinks and memories expand to encompass a miriad of emotions, thoughts, and experiences.

When the winter comes a better part of me becomes lost to the world.  My job, my location, my state of mind, all become focused on my immediate surroundings and the tasks at hand.  Try as I might to catalogue, to remember, to share, so much is wrapped together and buried under layers of snow.  This season’s memories might not be buried quite as deep under that immaculate blanket of white, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t just as many.  Time has a way of getting away from you, and while sometimes you’re the one out ahead, more often we’re playing catch-up while continuing to push forward.  It’s been a little while but I’m very pleased to have a moment to look back with you on a season some have been calling the worst.  Personally I’ll need more evidence than a few numbers and some dirt patches, because when I look back on these pictures, they tell a different story, I think you’ll agree.

I no longer really use a fancy camera, and other than the occasional bit of saturation for Instagram, the images are unfiltered.  All the photos are somewhat chronological, and run the gamut from summit shots to me taking pictures because I’m bored.  None of these shots are staged, lit, caressed, or otherwise re-fuckulated.  They’re not here because they feature someone famous in a bright jacket getting a face shot.  You won’t see any of these images in a magazine or catalog, they’re here because they make me happy, and for some reason or another they remind me of friends, a special place, time, or maybe just that life is good.  It’s hard to have a bad day at the best job ever, and despite not all of these shots being super creative or well thought out, I think they give you a pretty good idea of what it’s like to spend a day, a season, or a decade, in Alta.

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Ice formation at Sugar Pass.
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Devils’ Castle, Sugarloaf, and Mt. Baldy.
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Bloody poles after a bad cut on Banjo.
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5 o’clock clearing, LCC.
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The first of many Aprons. This time with Coleman putting things into perspective high above the booter.
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Pre-public on the Castle.
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Looking south from Sugar Pass at Timpanogos and a thick inversion.
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At least they tried making clouds.
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Fitz’s “my balls are getting crushed” face.
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Pete nearing the top of Baldy for a morning mission on Main Chute.
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No metaphor, sometimes you just get a little stir-crazy.
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Problem solvers.
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Thin is the new in.
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McEvans with a rare appearance somewhere other than High Boy.
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The legendary day that Glory Gulch was ripping so hard, I had to ski it twice.
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Cat crew.
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Tracks from the legendary Jim Collinson in the Castle.
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The Elevator, just moments prior to me straight-lining it and rag-dolling at the bottom. Wtf.
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Another Apron mission, this time with Claus.
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The very small dot high center is Adam feeling quite small at the Far Wall.
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If you see these more than stop signs, you’re doing it right.
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Fat graupel under Mt. Baldy on a mission to open Low 9.
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It skied well.
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The first of several meetings on the controversial Mountain Accord.
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Fresh air and a clear mind. Looking west on another Main Chute opening.
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Drain the Main Vein.
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Thanks for kicking my ass, Ben.  Good to get out and ride when the snow was less then ideal.
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Tide opening up the West Wall in style.
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Despite its reluctance to change, in some regards Alta is on the cutting edge of the ski industry.
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Printmaking class at ACE, thanks for another awesome lineup of community events.
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Never stop learning. Titus passing on some of his 30+ years of knowledge to the new guy.
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Gang colors.
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Gabe getting that February corn on the shoulder of Wolverine.
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Skinny skis ski deeper pow.
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Home.
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Eloquent and well-thought arguments are everywhere.
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Wind effect on East Greely.
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More Mountain Accord. This time the crowd was small enough for me to squeeze in a minute of crazed-enviro-nut ranting. “You’re blowing it!!”
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Bla-amo! Early morning missions were at a premium but somehow we still skied plenty of good snow.
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Early mornings at the office.
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Banjo always has something to say.
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Lining up. Making the slog up Yellowtrail Ridge for some avalanche mitigation.
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More views from the office.
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JB gets ready for a stick fight with the High Notch.
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Slayed. Paid Turns.
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Remy firing one off in Eddy’s High.
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Powder-cloaked East Castle.
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CFR gets reachy with a 2-pounder on top of Main Chute.

 

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CFR getting his toes wet in some shark-infested waters, Main Chute.

 

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K-Fred looks on in awe at the instant destruction levied by a few snowmobilers crashing our party in the Gargoyles.
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Coleman Worthen, ski-patrolman extraordinaire.
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Morning light from my front porch.
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Mr. Bez getting gnarly on the thin sticks.
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Sean-iqua taking it all in atop High Boy.
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K-Fred testing his ski mountaineering ability on the Eddy’s Bridge.
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Sunset colors as seen from Albion.
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Second breakfast is ready at The Buck.
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Fitz is drunk again.
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Honored to have spent so much time working with this guy and the fine men who make up the ASP Dog Crew, thanks for all the help and instruction.
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Officially a Dog-Fucker.
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The West Wildcat Glacier in rapid retreat. Climate Change is real.
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Best Friends.
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A record breaking season calls for new standards and refined definitions. In the case of White Squaw this spring, Low Snow meant No Snow.
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Can you just imagine being a dog in a land of infinite sticks.
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Results from Moqui’s 3rd Annual Biathlon. 1st by over 4 minutes equals domination. 1st from Rocco equals power couple status.
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Ski-cutting in the Photog Chute. Best worst year ever.
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Nap Time.
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2015 Dust Bow.
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Ganz getting ready for the all-clear on a late season powder day in High Nowhere.
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Pitted. 34 inch storm total.
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Deep.
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Annual ball game signals the end of the season. This place still gets my vote for most scenic ball park in the country.
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Gabe making his way along the High Meadows.
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Veteran.
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Rip one for Eddy. Gabe laying tracks down Eddy’s High Nowhere.

So there you have it.  Those turns with Gabe weren’t my last but they were some of the best I’ll remember.  Skiing is a privilege I hope to continue.  Despite all the bullshit we create for ourselves it’s refreshing to remember why we’re here, what we’re doing, and exactly how good we have it.  Right now, it’s the summer that lays ahead, and I’m getting stoked for that, but I still can’t help and think how precious the winter is: how magical, and fragile, it really is.

This was our fourth season of below-average snow and officially our lowest on the books, but even so, it skied a lot better than previous years.  Winter is at risk in North America and all over the Earth thanks to our overconsumption of fossil fuels and dirty energy.  There’s a lot of momentum for change in the coming years and I hope we can find the will, but I’m afraid the status quo is too entrenched and I wonder if it might not be too late.  We can all do our part towards protecting our winters and fostering a more healthy and sustainable world.  Remember every action has it’s consequences both good and bad, and that every day we encounter numerous opportunities to make sustainable decisions.  The snowflake is an endangered species, and if we kept that in mind every time we flipped on the lights or drove to the store we might be able to keep winter alive for our children to see.

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