Day 8
A beautifully sunny day, but no new snow.  I knew that powder was expected 
over the next few days, so I set myself one goal: “Don’t blow your wad.”

Walking up to the tram base, I was surprised to find the complete absence 
of anything resembling a line.  I walked right onto the just-arrived tram 
with about 30 other shocked skiers and off we went, with me staring at the 
Hellgate Cliffs and wondering if I’d rather be climbing.

As we floated past the Cirque, I could see a strong wind was blowing from 
the West, so my first-run decision was made.  I immediately headed for 
Upper Cirque. Wind-transferred, settled powder welcomed me back to Utah 
like an old girlfriend.

At the bottom of the cirque I reminded myself of my goal and chose to ski 
Chip’s Face rather than  the more  difficult runs to skier’s left.  The 
Face had been groomed to perfection and had not yet been skied.  I am not a 
snob.  I love well groomed cruisers as much as I love curvaceous women; as 
long as it’s natural, of course.

At the Tram, I found that there was still no line, so I went up for sloppy 
seconds, only this time I skied Great Scott instead of Cirque.  And guess 
what I found when I reached the tram.  Yep, no line.  It seemed like it 
would be just me playing with myself all day on the mountain. 

One of my reasons for choosing to ski Snowbird on this trip was that I was 
curious about the new Peruvian Lift and the Tunnel connecting Peruvian and 
Mineral Basin.  But I couldn’t see myself bothering with the Peruvian when 
there was no line at the tram.  

This time around, I was determined to take it easy and gentle.  I was going 
to ski groomed all the way down.  Down a windblown and crusty Regulator 
Johnson to Lunch Run, over to Harper’s Ferry East, which still had wall-to-
wall corduroy.  However, it wasn’t as easy as one might surmise from the 
list of trails.  You see, before I even turned onto Johnson, my mind had 
decided to do it nonstop.  2900 vertical feet later I found myself stepping 
onto the same tram car that I had just beat down the mountain.

Ok, I decided that if I was going to have any chance of holding back, I 
shouldn’t ski down to the tram again.  I popped over into Mineral Basin 
somewhere in the vicinity of High Stakes.  MB opened up during my last year 
in Utah, and the only time I had ever skied it was for one run, during a 
whiteout.  So I couldn’t be happy with just a run down a wide open bowl.  

Half way down, I found myself heading to the left, attracted by a series of 
chutes and cliffs just left of the very large Hamilton Cliffs.  The chutes 
mesmerized me as if I were sitting at a pirts bulc, three sheets to an ill 
wind, watching a hale dancer do her thing.  I was at their mercy.  Having 
spent too much time in the sun, the chutes’ heavy snow and barely skiable 
conditions used me up good, and I think they stole my wallet too.

Embarrassed by my weakness and my vices, I went over into Little Cloud bowl 
and skied the sastrugi of  Shireen.  On the way down I sang the lyrics of 
the song with the same name: 
“Today I heard the song that was playing
When I first met you.
I woke up next to someone
Who wasn’t you.”

Since Shireen was a bit used up, I next headed out a bit further on the 
Road to Happy Valley, and found that Last Choice had the same blown snow 
that I had found earlier in the day.  All alone still, I went for several 
repeated performances there.

But I saved my favorite lift for last.  Over on Gad 2, I skied all the 
groomers, and then got a piece of Tiger Tail, and finished up by paying a 
visit to the Organgrinder.

Somewhere in the vicinity of 20,000 verts, I was spent, with nothing more 
to give.  I had not met my goal.  The only way it could have been better 
was if Amy had been there as well.

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