It’s never too early to plan for a powder paradise |

It’s never too early to plan for a powder paradise

special to the daily
Special to the Daily/Bill WardFirst light in the high country near Mustang Powder.

Midway through our third day of skiing at Mustang Powder, we were standing on a high ridge in the snow-choked Monashee Mountains. We had clicked into our skis and were preparing to dive into fields of beautiful, sparkling, uncut British Columbia fluff.

Nick Holmes-Smith, the proprietor of Mustang Powder, was tail-guiding our group that day, and he had an urgent message.

“OK, everybody, listen up,” he barked, smiling but sounding like a military commander. “Don’t cross anyone else’s damned tracks. Ski the powder. That’s what you’re paying for.”

It sounded like a tongue-lashing, but Nick’s message was intended to liberate the clients who weren’t taking full advantage of the Promised Land beneath their feet. Because the first and foremost goal of Mustang Powder is to ski powder.

Yes, the food was hearty and delicious. The lodge was warm, comfortable and attractive. The staff, from the guides to the kitchen help, was friendly, attentive and professional. But at Mustang the skiing comes first.

The picture at the top of this page should drive home this point. This sunrise view of some steep crags near Mustang was shot on our fourth ski day, just as we’d stepped out of the snowcat, atop our first run of the day. It should be self-evident that we were skiing at first light, every day. (One cloudy day we waited an extra 15 minutes for the sky to lighten up.)

Each day started with a 7 a.m. knock at the door, where an employee with a rolling cart brought coffee. Everyone was out the door and into the snowcats by 8 a.m. We skied all day every day, returning to the lodge at roughly 5 p.m. Those eight-plus hours were spent either traveling in the snowcat, or skiing. There were no lunch stops; guests prepared lunches from a generous buffet each morning and ate as the cat grinded up, down and around Mustang’s 30,000 acres of terrain.

Let’s stop on that point for a moment: 30,000 acres.

Vail Mountain has 5,289 acres of lift-served skiing. Snowmass has 3,132. Mustang Powder, with roughly two dozen guests in its remote lodge at any given time, has access to nearly 10 times the terrain of Snowmass and almost six times that of Vail.

Our party – me, my older brother Bill and my stepbrother Alex – benefited directly from this embarrassment of riches. Our vacation came when the Monashees, despite having received more than 10 feet of snow in December and January, hadn’t had any new snowfall in about a week. But that made little difference in the quality of the skiing; we simply spent a bit more time in the cat, bumping and grinding our way to the outermost reaches of Mustang’s vast acreage.

Out there we found seemingly endless lines of untouched, consistent snow, somewhere between boot-deep and shin-deep (it gets much deeper, but we weren’t complaining). Having never skied B.C. before, we were giddy – sometimes blathering like drunk-for-the-first-time teens, sometimes speechless with amazement.

Many writers have sung the praises of untracked powder, so there’s no need to describe the face shots, the quiet in the trees with only the whisper of your skis underfoot, or the wide-open bowls above treeline. I’ll just pick a few runs that, two months later, still linger in my mind.

• Fifth Dimension: A 4,500 vertical-foot drop down a deeply glaciated canyon, starting well above timberline and ending in a grove of ancient cedars that reminded me of Northern California’s towering redwoods. Owing to avalanche danger, Fifth Dimension had only been skied once before by Mustang clients, but we were lucky. “It’s gonna be mega,” shouted tail guide JP McCarthy before we dropped in. Four pitches and an epic traverse. Top to bottom: 1 hour, 10 minutes.

• Gladiator: We’d just clicked into our skis atop a high, sunny ridge when Nick announced, “If this doesn’t make you happy, we cannot make you happy.” And then, one by one, we jumped into Gladiator, roughly 1,200 vertical feet of steep, fall-line skiing reminiscent of Highland Bowl’s Y Zones in epic condition. Sheer delight.

• Barbaloots: Anyplace that names their ski runs after Dr. Seuss characters has my vote. (Mustang also named runs for Spinal Tap and other classic films.) I remember Barbaloots because we flogged it for several runs – a wide-open entry that got steeper and more thickly treed as we descended. Pick your line carefully and watch for sudden dropoffs!

• Outer Limits: A short hike/traverse through some woods to a steep, crescent-shaped drop into a long, narrow chute edged with rocks and trees. Our lead guide, Garret Boyd, jumped in first and calmly ripped his way to the bottom. I felt jittery as I dropped in and took my first turn, but the snow was creamy and deep. All I could say at the bottom was, “Thank you, Garret. Thank you, God.”

• Love you Longtime: A 3,500-foot descent through a vast canyon with multiple tributaries that dovetail in a huge boulder field. We skied this twice and had completely distinct experiences. Everybody found their own lines, from low-angle cruisers to mandatory airs. Better than sex.

Not every run at Mustang was epic. Our first day began on a wind-affected ridge that skied like a turbulent ocean made of ice. There were occasional dead ends and fallen logs in the dark timber. I fell into a hole in a boulder field and had to extricate myself. But these are all to be expected in a search for the best snow, and our guides found great lines in a vast and varied backcountry.

They also tried hard to accommodate skiers of varying abilities, as well as groups comprised of both skiers and snowboarders. There were runs that challenged the intermediates, but whenever possible our guides pointed out easier lines and “sportier” lines for different guests. Certain long traverses were hard for the snowboarders, but the guides routinely suggested alternate routes for the ascension-challenged.

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