Kendall Card 2.0

It snowed again, so like any self respecting backcountry skier I put my bike away for a few days and went out to ski some powder which promptly turned into another fine corn harvest.

With the road to Wolf Creek Pass open for the summer, I took advantage of this easy access location just 20 minutes from Kamas. Besides the access, the other beautiful thing about Wolf Creek Pass is that I would have the area to myself – no skiers, no snowmobilers, and virtually no drive by traffic.

After one powder day with my friend Alex and a solo corn day I asked my eight year old son McKinley if he wanted to go backcountry skiing. He doesn’t have touring equipment but I reasoned that if we got there right at sunrise the surface would be firm enough to bootpack up the main slope. With his excitement and the green light from his mother (knowing that he would likely be late for school) we got our gear ready.

At 6:30 I woke McKinley and after a mandatory stop at the local Chevron station to entice our taste buds with some of the worlds finest doughnuts, we headed off to the pass. A quick ski across the flats and we were booting up the main slope.

Reaching the top we had spectacular views of the Uintas and the Wasatch Mountains. McKinley looked around and said,

“Dad, this is so awesome. It’s like our own private ski resort for just you and me.” I had to smile, responding, “Welcome to backcountry skiing.”

After some hydration we started down. The snow was buttery smooth as this main shot gets the first morning light. McKinley went first and although he skied a bit timid I couldn’t have been more proud. When I arrived at the bottom of the slope he asked if we could ski one more lap. But of course.

Once more we arrived on top and took some time to snap photos with my camera phone (my digi is broken) and spent some time chatting. Some father’s take thier son’s golfing, others play video games with them while some go fishing in order to have keen time to openly communicate. I take my son(s) to the mountains.

I could have never thought so much enjoyment could come from skiing a little 400′ shot but there was no place I’d rather have been nor anyone else that I would rather have been skiing with than my oldest boy.

The second run was smoother, both snow and McKinley’s skiing. After skiing that run we hiked up to the highway and then walked back to the car. I said to McKinley that we needed to get him to school to which he replied,

Dad, I could miss school today. I don’t care when we arrive.” I asked him why that was. “Because backcountry skiing with you is so much better than going to school,” he said.

It was priceless.