Vacation - Wonderful Wednesday

Having bought two lift tickets for Moonlight Basin—the sister resort to Big Sky—made it imperative that we go during the trip. Brant had heard from the bartender that Moonlight was the place to go for powder, and it had been snowing for a few days.

It was long trip on a relatively flat cattrack, but we finally got there (with a wrong turn or two that made for lots of skating). Moonlight has one very long lift (a six-seater) and several smaller ones. If you like steep double diamond blacks, you just need to take Six Shooter once and you’re at the bowls. We, on the other hand, liked the powdery blues that ran off the big lift and rode it several times.

The first (and best) run was down the Stillwater Bowl, navigating our way through thigh-high powder that would make a Utah skier envious. In fact, the last time we had a run like that was in the back bowl at Solitude almost 2 years ago. Spectacular. You might be able to see the level of powder here.

The next lift took us higher, but we had trouble finding a blue run that didn’t end in a long flat stretch. The closest was Meriwether, a middling long trail with some personality. And lots of powder on the edges. We had some great runs. As we tried to find the terrain park, we ran into some unavoidable black runs—wouldn’t have been too bad if I hadn’t skipped off the top of a mogul on my heels, only to get folded in half upon hitting the next one. That was an ouch. Fortunately, my knee (and ribcage) held up and we struggled on, finding some nice powder right under the lift line.

It was getting late and time to begin the long, tedious ride back to the main village at Big Sky. I had chatted up a local a few days ago and asked about Moonlight. He allowed that it had some nice runs, but not enough variety to warrant more than a day’s attention. I am not sure I agree with him, as there were several conquerable black runs we might have tried on another day, but I would agree that two days is more than enough to cover that side. And if there is a powder dump…the low trail to people ratio is hard to beat. The good news is that they plan to expand shortly, increasing the draw to the “largest ski area in America,” as they say. I would go back, but not just for MB.

The ride back was tiring but uneventful, at least until Brant got off-trail and looked to be heading down a steep glade (trans., place with trees tightly packed, frequented by expert skiers/riders or idiots, or both). Discretion turned out to be the better part, so he climbed out and we motored on to catch the last lift home.

We got back in time for me to collapse, then get cleaned up—Jane and I were going out to dinner. A night out for the folks, leaving the kids at home! We went to the same dinner extravaganza that Pam and Dave had enjoyed, although the temperature had fallen a bit since their trip. The crew picked us up at the bottom of the hill, and ferried everyone halfway up the mountain in Snowcats—large tank-like tractors.

Then we were hustled into a warm, round tent called a Yurt (which, by the way, happened to be the winning word in an earlier Scrabble contest). I’m sure I could find the derivation of it if I cared to, but a picture is worth a lot more, so here are two.

Then some fools went sledding next to the yurt. I was really surprised at this, because there hadn’t been nearly enough time for anyone to get liquored up to the degree needed to cause a sane human being to get on those things. But, miraculously, no one was injured and dinner proceeded. Filet Mignon, expertly cooked, with various trimmings, topped off by a chocolate fondue. An excellent meal, to be sure.

Despite the folk singer.

On the trip down the mountain, we decided to ride on top of the Snowcat instead of inside; it was more enjoyable than the ride up, unless you dislike sliding all around on a slick, freezing cold metal roof as the tractor lurches down the trail. But the view was excellent. Didn’t see any animals.