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The Cult of Personality: Five Snowboarding Resorts
and Their Somewhat Twisted Character Traits |
June Park Whistler/ Blackcomb: Line By Line |
| "It's just the mountain's personality," a friend once said to me after
I'd landed head first in a heavy drift of cream-cheese powder and screamed
about how badly the mountain sucked. "You can't force a relationship with
a mountain. You've got to learn and adapt."
Over the years I've learned to ignore most of what he says. He's been to Area 51 and wears little pieces of glass around his neck that allow him to "feel" things others can't. When he gets bogged in a flat spot it's not because he wasn't going fast enough, it's because he hit a "gravity-free zone." When he slams on his back it's because he's hit an anomaly in the space-time continuum. He reads Terence McKenna and believes it. All of this would be pretty damn funny if he wasn't so serious about it. And that pseudo-scientific seriousness he brings to everything is exactly why I don't pay attention that much when he talks. Last spring, however, while fighting my way down a zooed-out run at Stratton Mountain, Vermont I thought about what he'd said about a mountain's personality, and realized that Stratton and I were completely different types. Stratton loves hanging out with aggro, uptight New Yorkers on 48 hour get-a-ways, and I'd rather pierce my forehead with a socket-wrench than hang out with coffee-charged New Yorkers on crystal. Stratton and I would never get along. Coming to terms with this fact made my whole experience more bearable. I enjoyed beating Stratton up. I cut it, slapped it, rubbed it's face in it, and went home happy. All because I understood where the mountain was coming from, and what to expect. Now I'm convinced that knowing the personality of a mountain can mean the difference between euphoria and absolute hell. So to help further the science of mountain psychology, here are some of the standout snowboarding resorts along with their personality traits. Hopefully, everyone will find the perfect match.
Jackson Hole: The Wild Man Jackson Hole is the typical, capricious hardguy. Located in the southwestern corner of Wyoming, the Hole is just as likely to swat you silly with a jagged rock and leave you for dead, as catch you in a puffy blanket of fresh powder and tickle you to death with a run through evenly spaced snow-covered trees. But, Jackson Hole is proud of it's whimsical nature. A plaque on the wall of the tram building puts it's mood right up front: "Our mountain is like nothing you've ever skied before. It is huge, with variable terrain from groomed slopes to dangerous cliff areas and dangerously variable whether and snow conditions. You must always exercise extreme caution. You could become lost, you could make a mistake, and suffer personal injury or death." The one thing Jackson Hole responds consistently to is respect. Once you understand the mountain, Jackson Hole becomes a polite, genial, wild man. Aside from world famous hell-evator drops like Corbet's Couloir or the Alta Chutes, Jackson Hole has powder glades built for high-speed charging in the Sleeping Indian and the Moran Faces. With a tram that rockets snowboarder to the top of 4,139 vertical feet in 12 minutes, seven chairlifts and enough extreme terrain to keep gravity addicts high for life, Jackson Hole is probably the best all-around snowboard resort in North America.
Snowmass: The Over-Achiever If Snowmass worked in corporate America it would get a parking spot right near the front door marked, "Employee of the Month." The resort does everything possible to be a "model ski resort." It is king at nuzzling the hindquarters of the American ski community. Because skiers love immaculately groomed intermediate runs that roll on forever, Snowmass has gained a strong following among hard-boot Alpine snowboarders who love laying out long, fast arcs on virgin corduroy 24-7. Being just around the mountain from Aspen doesn't hurt either. Since most glam-slam skiers and Hollywood poseurs hang-out in Aspen and ski at Aspen's main mountain (which doesn't allow snowboarding), Snowmass' slopes are virtually empty most of the time. Five high speed quad chairlifts that leave you wishing there was a line to rest in, 3,612 vertical feet of wide, rolling runs, and average of 346 inches of snow, make Snowmass the perfect place to breakout the Alpine board and carve like a turkey knife on Thanksgiving.
Snowbird: The Gentle Giant Snowbird, Utah is a polite and kind oaf of a mountain fighting desperately to end it's rugged ways and behave like a good Mormon resort. Thankfully, that won't be happening anytime soon. The raw, jagged mountain, which rises 3,100 vertical feet out of Little Cottonwood Canyon, just 45 minutes from Salt Lake City, is the closest thing America has to a European ski facility. Only 20 percent of it's terrain is beginner, and most of that is made up of cat tracks that snake down through the advanced runs like a life-sized version of Chutes and Ladders. What saves the mountain from being completely raw and crude is the 456 inches of dry, powder that smoothes over the mountain's rough exterior leaving a gentle soft pillow that allows snowboarders to do things they can't do at many other resorts, like launching cliffs, and straight-lining tight chutes. Talk to anyone who's gotten first tracks in the Cirque or soared over the numerous rock bands that litter the mountain and they'll probably say Snowbird is the best snowboard mountain on the planet. And they're probably not wrong. With a tram that takes snowboarders from bottom to top in eight minutes, and seven chairlifts, Snowbird is a powder riders paradise.
Big Bear: The Inner Child Snow Summit and Bear Mountain, located in Big Bear, California should have a large inferiority complexes. But they don't. Both are surprisingly well-adjusted considering their low snow totals, lack of extreme terrain, and large crowds. Somehow, because of nurturing childhoods, or hard time in counseling, Summit and Bear have come to terms with who they are and are doing their best to exploit the positive characteristics. The Big Bear resorts are leading the nation in snowboard park and halfpipe construction. They don't have the greatest terrain so they build it. Both mountains have hired snowboarders to design and maintain their parks. Undoubtedly, Bear Mountain is the hero park of North America as much for it's terrain as for the crowd of snowboard photographers who lines up behind most of the hits. Bear's snake run, big ol' table tops, and fall line quarterpipe have been featured in nearly every snowboard video and magazine this season. Pros love the park's photo attention, however, it is a bit on the big side. For New Schoolers just starting out Snow Summit has the goods. Their snowboard park is nearly twice as long as Bear's and has smaller versions of spines, gaps, table tops and sliders. Plus, Summit's halfpipe is a favorite among snowboarding's pros.
Blackcomb: The Melancholic Mountain Back when Hippocrates was labeling the different personality types he used body fluids as the basis for differentiation. Using his labels Blackcomb could be called melancholic, meaning, having too much bile. It's not that Blackcomb is gloomy, or depressing. It's just that during the summer it seems like it rains a lot. There are other summer snowboarding alternative: the southern hemisphere (which can cost bank) and Mt. Hood (which is overrun by squealing summer campers). But when compared to these, Blackcomb is the obvious choice. Rather than the flat, groomed "lanes" at Mt. Hood, Blackcomb has nearly 700 vertical feet on the Horstman Glacier, and if you're visiting early in the summer, great chutes and bowls in the Jersey Cream Bowl. Getting there means riding three chairlifts and a bus, but the terrain is worth it. Plus, Whistler Village is second only the Chamonix as a hangout for extreme snowboarders, film makers, and trust-funders. With dozens of great restaurants and kicking night clubs filled to overflowing nightly during the summer months, Blackcomb's dark, stormy days seems like a small price to pay for a real summer snowboard experience. |