Good Things Come to Those Who Wait (Hardwear Sessions)

By Dawn Glanc

When you plan a trip to the mountains in February, you plan for snow and cold temperatures. You expect winter conditions especially when the mountains you are planning to play in are 10,000 feet and higher. All my planning turned out to be a futile effort. Not one single snowflake fell for the first month I was here in La Grave. That means from February 9 until March 10, I saw no fresh snow. No powder days, no blissful days of whooshing down the slopes. The snow had turned to concrete and conditions were grim. And then, the night of March 10 came to town.

The night began with some cold wind, then the clouds rolled in. The storm was upon the village and was beginning to pounce on the mountain of La Meije. Snow began to fall. I almost could not believe my eyes. I went to sleep dreaming that I was a great skier. I awoke throughout the night, and to my dismay, rain was falling on the village. When we finally woke in the morning, only a few centimeters had fallen. I still suited up and grabbed my ski gear. This was going to be a powder day, damn it, even if it was only a few measly centimeters.

Farmer works in La Grave as a ski guide at the Skiers Lodge. I went to work that day with Farmer as his tail-guide so that I had a group to ski with. This is not a mountain I feel comfortable skiing alone. The mountain here is not your typical ski resort. The lift starts at 1400 meters and goes to 3200 meters. Then there is a surface lift, or T-bar, that goes to 3500 meters. There are only two tiny piste runs that are each 2-cat tracks wide. The piste runs only go from 3500 meters back to 3200 meters. The rest of the terrain is considered "High Mountain", off piste with no real ski patrol. There are no signs marking the green and blue runs, or any runs for that matter. This mountain and the risks are the real deal.

We loaded into the tram and headed up the mountain. As we climbed high up the mountain the conditions quickly changed from rain to raging storm. The wind was blowing and gusting, and the snow was still accumulating from the night before. The conditions were full on when we exited the top tram station. The powder day I had dreamed of was here! I stepped into my fat skis with anticipation of powdery bliss. The storm had only just begun, so the underlying concrete was not totally covered. The wind was also not helping with the even snow distribution. Pockets of powder are what we found, but we all skied with giant smiles on our faces. The storm was so intense, that every run we found fresh, untracked slopes. It was awesome. The storm never let up, even as the day faded into night.

The next morning I awoke very early and raced to the window. More snow had fallen on the village, so I knew the upper mountain was going to be good. It was amazing that me, the non-skier was as psyched as I was. Two powder days in a row, what could be better? As it turned out we got not two, not three, but four powder days in a row. The storm never let up until late on the evening of March 12. The fourth day of skiing was amazing. The snow was great, a bit wind effected, but creamy. All the bumps and underlying concrete were buried under the snow. The skies were clear and the sun shined bright all day.

I finally found what it is that skiers love so much about skiing. It is an amazing feeling to make perfect turns in deep powder snow. Floating down the slopes is an indescribable joyous feeling. The excitement of a powder day in the mountains is a powerful vibe that is unmatched in ice climbing. I am not going to be converted from ice climbing to skiing. However, on the upcoming powder days, which are forecasted for the following week, I will awake like a child on Christmas morning and enjoy the fresh tracks with my fat love skis.