Ski Week - Part 3

The girls returned to Wellington on Friday, just as the weather finally cleared. Friday afternoon was a lucky break in the weather. Huge tracks of virgin untracked snow lying in bowl after bowl out into the western glacier.  A quick 15 min skin above the Jumbo was all it took to access the goods. Luckily the was nobody else interested in putting the work in so it was just left to me to take care of the business of making first tracks. There I was out west again with the first big bowl in Solitude all to myself. The sweet first tracks of Tuesday were repeated in perfect Turoa fresh cold new snow.  Afterwards at dusk the mountain set itself off in a great display of alpenglow.

Mt Ruapehu in alpenglow.

On Saturday I had to return home, however the weather dawned bright, clear and perfect. I knew it was all on today in term of the perfect waiting fresh snow and the competition to get at it with the weekend hordes. The High Noon Express was still out of action which once again turned out to be a mixed blessing. Almost the same untracked snow was accessible via a 15 min skin above the Jumbo and again nobody could be bothered with putting the effort in the morning. So I added to my first tracks in Solitude, making 3 perfect sets of fresh tracks that were just mine alone. Eventually the rest cottoned on on what they where missing and a few started to venture out at about lunch time. Too late.

After lunch I made another climb and a trip out to then next smaller bowl over in Solitude. Not many people go there as it requires such a traverse but its one most perfect bowls on the Turoa side for holding great snow, with a perfect westerly aspect to gain the sun and remote enough to make it isolated from attention. The hour that I spent in the bowl was some of the most memorable skiing I've had in Turoa for many a season. The snow was so light, fresh and perfect that it was impossible to leave. I made three runs, twice skinning up to the top of the bowl again leaving my pack below so I could climb quicker and hungrily repeat the sweet gliding turns over and over in the untracked silken snow pack. The feeling of the skis was sensationless, just floating over an untracked alpine bowl. Sadly I had to leave the bowl behind; only with three sets of beautiful symmetric round tracks sitting nicely nestled along aside one another.