CHASED BY STORMS IN COLORADO
WORDS: KATE ALLMAN
Call us armchair meteorologists. Freeskiers, as a rule, are unashamed weather nerds. We’re fascinated by atmospheric pressure and wind direction. Riveted to forecasting maps despite being entirely self-trained on how to read them. “We’re all a little obsessed with weather, aren’t we?” admits Loryn Duke, Communications Director (official) and 14-year local weather nerd (unofficial) at Steamboat Ski Resort. It’s February, and the mountain has already recorded more snow in the 2022-23 season than it received the entire previous year. After three years of pandemic-induced hiatus from skiing Rocky Mountain pow, I’ve returned in 2023 to one of North America’s snowiest years. Alta in Utah clocks more than 800 inches by April. Mammoth Mountain celebrates its snowiest season in record-keeping history. And in Colorado, every stop on my February mission produces the goods. “It’s you – you’re the snow charm! The snow follows wherever you go!” Loryn messages me three weeks later, after I’ve spent a day navigating the depths of Durango pow. In four weeks of road-tripping through Colorado I can barely go four days without new snow. It’s like a switch has flipped on every travelling skier’s ultimate aspiration. Instead of chasing storms, they’re chasing me. 120
Champagne powder Loryn and I are discussing the science of snowstorms over a margarita at Ore House in downtown Steamboat. The former homestead built in 1889 cooks the butteriest, pinkest Elk steak I ever slid a knife into and retains one of the more glorious treasures of pre-pandemic history: a self-serve salad bar(!). If any American ski town is going to crack the code for ultimate powder conditions, it’s likely Steamboat. The resort is so confident in its famously light and dry powder snow it even trademarked the phrase “champagne powder”. This isn’t just armchair expertise – Steamboat happens to be a magnificent place to study weather, hosting a prestigious annual weather conference for journalists and meteorologists. “Steamboat sits right next to the Mojave Desert. It’s why our snow is so light and dry,” Loryn explains. “As storms travel east from the Pacific Ocean, they lose moisture over the desert, then the first thing the clouds hit is the mountains around Steamboat. To get over the mountains, those clouds need to rise and cool, eventually falling as incredibly dry, champagne powder snow.” So, skiing here should feel something like slicing through spray from a freshly corked bottle of Veuve. A day testing the science with President
and Chief Operation Officer (COO) of Steamboat Resort, Rob Perlman, confirms it. “Hmm, usually there are no friends on a powder day,” Rob tutts, tapping his watch when my husband and I arrive two minutes late to meet him for First Tracks. First Tracks is one of the place’s many genius quirks; an optional add-on for keen riders who want to skip the crowds and hit the mountain from 7.45-9am (on a powder day, who wouldn’t?). We clamber into the gondola with greying locals carrying skinny skis, who all greet Rob by name and quarrel over how many days they have ridden this season. Anything over 100 days is the goal. Snow has been falling in fat flakes for two days straight, so at this stage I’ve not even seen the mountain in clear visibility yet. No matter – Rob knows the trail map better than the top sheet of his skis. We head for the trees to shelter from surprisingly minimal wind and begin splaying our edges through pillows that rise to our armpits. It’s all ultra-light and impressively easy to navigate. Rob’s favourite route is a line of trees separating two runs called “Two o’clock” and “Three Above: Keeping the streets clear in Steamboat Springs. Opposite: One of many epic powder days in Aspen this year. Photo: Tyler Wilkinson-Ray
