Slate Canyon Skiing

Lately, I've been watching some Warren Miller movies - Warren Miller's Journey, Warren Miller: Off the Grid - and it's got me to remembering some of my own skiing adventures. I'm not much of a skier. In fact, I seem to injure myself a lot while doing it (ski pole to the face . . . not pretty), but it sure is fun! In fact, I'm reminded of my first back country skiing adventure at Slate Canyon.

What? You've never heard of Slate Canyon?

Well, I suppose that's ok. Most people have never heard of Slate Canyon, even if they live in Provo, Utah, where the canyon creeps up and through the Wasatch Front. Most of the attention gets turned over to Rock Canyon and the Y. Because of that, you can find some very nice, very uncrowded terrain in Slate Canyon, no matter the season.

I was an accounting student at BYU and the thing is, if you're a college student, money is tight. And when money is tight, students get inventive. One weekend, I rented a pair of skis. On Saturday, I took my-then-girlfriend-now-wife Ashley skiing at Sundance and had a great time skiing. I didn't have to return the skis until Monday afternoon, so naturally, not wanting to pay for another lift ticket but still wanting to get the most out of my rentals, I convinced my friend Chris that we should hike up Slate Canyon and ski back down. It sounded like a great idea at the time.

(Yes, those are tennis shoes . . . hiking in the ski boots was extremely difficult and I had no alternatives, so I layered up with some nice wool socks.) We had some pretty great snow (Sundance had a foot or two of new powder), so I figured that Slate Canyon would be drowning in snow. I was right. So, with our spare adventure equipment, we hiked about 2.5 miles up the canyon and into the clouds.

With no one around, a foot of fresh snow, and a tiny trail, Chris and I knew we were in for quite an experience. We strapped on our boots and skis and pointed the tips downhill. Skiing down, we dodged protruding rocks and tree branches and managed to crash only a handful of times. Yeah right . . . I don't know how many times I tried turning to avoid careening off the side of the trail into the creek only to cross my skis and end up face first into the snow bank on the opposite side of the trail. Chris is a much more accomplished skier and made his way down the trail without too much trouble.

Even with the snow melting absurdly quickly near the valley, having to cross two creeks, and my pathetic lack of skiing skills, we made it down safely with huge grins and a thought - "man, that was fun, but what were we thinking!?" And that was my first, and maybe my last attempt at "back country skiing," at least until I get a lot better at skiing.