AN ELITIST'S TAKE ON SKIING WITH A GUIDE

I was gifted a guided ski day in the Uintas through a company called Inspired Summit Adventures. My immediate reaction was, “Why would I need a guide in my home mountain range?” I pictured myself hanging onto the back of some dirtbag’s snowmobile, skiing gentle hills under 30 degrees. But my second thought was, “Maybe it won’t be that bad… I’ve never actually used a snowmobile while skiing. And the Uintas are pretty remote.”

The night before, I packed my usual backcountry gear: the staple Glade Stash sunglasses, a headlamp, an extra puffy for the ride in, and a few random expired bars I’d grabbed from a bin in my gear room. At 5 a.m., I met Nicole, my guide—a humble Himalayan ski mountaineer—in Park City. We’re drinking the same brand of gas station coffee so there’s instant rapport. We loaded up the trailer and headed to the trailhead, and I braced myself for a day of childish instructions on how to tighten my helmet strap or how to pizza wedge.

Instead, Nicole hopped on her snowmobile and said, “Here’s how you accelerate, here’s how you brake. Let’s go!” And with that, she took off, leaving me to scramble to keep up. I threw on my sunglasses and tried to look comfortable as we sped 45 mph for an hour and a half to our first line. That’s when it hit me: I had already made my first rookie mistake.. I never backcountry ski with goggles, so I didn’t bring any. Within minutes, my actual eye balls started to freeze. To make matters worse. Come to think of it, I hadn’t even read the “What to Bring” page. What other mistakes lay ahead of me.

The elitist had become the student.

But I wasn’t about to admit my mistake. Instead, I developed a method of closing one eye at a time while we rode. As the Uintas zoomed by, I began to reconsider my anti-guide stance. There I was, covering ground in hours that would have taken me days to skin. Anything exciting in the Uintas had been forbidden fruit for the last couple months but here they were freshly ripe and safe and my legs still feel fresh and with the heated seat my bum is ready to work. What followed was the best backcountry day of my season. It didn’t feel like a typical guided experience—it felt like skiing with a friend. A very skilled and responsible friend. A friend who didn’t show up late or ask to eat some of my snacks.

We traded boot pack leads, which helped soothe my bruised ego, and Nicole regaled me with stories of skiing in Nepal and Pakistan. We laid down first tracks in a sweet bowl below a cliff band on Bald Mountain, took a straight shot off the middle saddle with perfect views of the Uinta alpine, and then we skinned around and finished with a perfect chute off the west side of Reid’s Peak.

The sun began to lower over the far Uintas and now properly worked and in need of a burrito or two, we decided it was high time to head home. Now that I was a recently converted client, Nicole asked if I wanted to rip around in the trees on the sleds. I’d had my fill of adventure for the day. I humbly declined.

Reflecting on the day, I realized something - the best experiences often come from letting go of preconceptions. Skiing isn’t about proving anything or maintaining some skill status. It’s just about fun and sometimes it’s really fun to let someone else take the lead.

Also.. maybe it’s nice to have goggles as an option. They don’t weigh much.

See you out there,
Tanner