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Chronicles of a Mountain Biking REALTOR

By
Real Estate Sales Representative with RE/MAX Realty Group
CONTINUATION of CHRONICLES OF RIDER DAVE Part 2
By Dave Peck
 

Bridger Bowl Bliss
I arrive early on my first powder day at Bridger Bowl. The mystique of Bridger's Ridge is well-known, but today I'm anxious to discover it myself. After dropping my daughter at ski school, I wander around the lodge until I meet a local guy who invites me along with his buddies. The group is understandably giddy about the prospects of cutting fresh tracks, so the introduction is short but welcoming. We arrive at the top of the Bridger Lift and with little warning or warm-up they take off and are flying non-stop to the next lift. They have a relentless, take-no-prisoner style. The lift ride up is the only thing that slows them down, which invites brief but pleasant conversation.

Next is my first trip up the High Traverse. This is just a sampling of the enormous amount of hiking that lies ahead. As we head for Exit Chute, the leaders race for the next unbroken line while I follow their smoke. The terrain is steep, billowy, and delicious. For the remainder of the morning we continue this single-minded pursuit of freshies. Eventually hunger sets in and the group swarms to the Deer Park Chalet for sack lunches and hot chocolate. When one of them whips out a moose sausage sandwich, I remind myself that I'm not in Illinois anymore.

After lunch, the guys go their separate ways and I decide to make for the Ridge. As I'm climbing the trail with a procession of hardcores, I notice a gal ahead with teli skis strapped to her pack. When we reach the top, I see that it's our babysitter from last night, Sloan. I'm trying to speak to her but instead I'm gasping for my next breath. Once I've recovered, she agrees to buddy up and show me the way down this maze of powder-covered terrain. We turn south and march along the Ridge until she motions towards the fall line. I sense that this perch is the catbird seat-the views are extraordinary.

We blast off with her in the lead. I'm in Sloan's slipstream trying to figure-8 her turns. This twenty something babe on boards (BOB) is so fluid on pins, it's uncanny. We duck and weave our way down the Nose. Just when I'm starting to feel like a ski stud, my tip snags a sapling, sending me into a pirouette. I manage a clean roll into the deep, bouncing upright and into the next turn without losing much momentum. When I catch up to Sloan, it appears she didn't notice the cartwheel-the only clue is the compacted snow inside my goggles. At the traverse above the Deer Park Chalet, I thank her for graciously hosting that alpine clinic and excuse myself from the next run. I've got to recharge my battery, and dry off a bit too.

I'm starting to understand this unique breed, the Montana skier, a little better. It's a different mentality. They don't climb the Ridge to be seen, like people in Obermeyer suits at Aspen's Sundeck. They do it because they're driven by the lure of adventure and the need for a challenge. Because the powder is light and the terrain is tough; because avalanche gear is the rule and not the exception. Also, there is an unusually high concentration of superb athletes in Big Sky country. After just one winter here, I realize that anyone I meet on the hill could be an exceptional skier if not world-class. This is a community connected by a common passion to go wild on the trails.

After a few more days tagging along with locals at Bridger-jump-turning down narrow chutes, carving wide arcs across 45-degree faces, and pointing ‘em through gnarly bump runs-I'm elated. The energy is shared both on the slope and in the chairlift line, the banter becoming easy and familiar. I feel like I've been adopted into the brotherhood.

I'm ready for the Big Couloir.

 

Comments (1)

Brett Fagan Bozeman Montana Real Estate
Taunya Fagan Bozeman Montana Real Estate - Bozeman, MT
Boutique Luxury @ ESTATE House, Bozeman, Montana

...that kind of day sounds familiar ; ) ...

Apr 17, 2010 11:28 AM