Skiing Silverton is humbling. Others in my group would use words like ‘awesome’ or ‘righteous.’ But not me. I went into the weekend thinking I was a hot shot skier — roughly two notches below the guys we see in movies — and left thinking I’m actually years away from flirting with that degree of skill level.
Let me take you back to 2 AM last Saturday night, closing time for most bars in the Vail Valley. Instead of belting out lyrics to a cover of “When the Levee Breaks,” I was five and a half hours south in Durango, Colorado, trying my best to stay awake at the wheel. My car was packed to the brim, filled with ski gear and three friends, two of whom were asleep in the back.
We were supposed to arrive in Silverton at 6 PM, which would give us plenty of time to watch the Redskins secure a playoff spot — that is until the Red Pass was closed. Our drive through Ouray, CO (just 45 minutes from Silverton) turned into a three-hour dinner, from which point we headed North, and then East, in order to circumnavigate to this famous backcountry mountain via some of Colorado’s most forgotten state highways.
Semi-Pro Tip: If you’re driving to Silverton, make sure you check to see if that pass–or any pass–is open before you get in the car.
Our alarms went off at 6:30 the next morning, followed by the unmistakable sound of ski boots clanking up a wooden staircase. Other guests of the Triangle Motel were already up, prepping for a seemingly similar day on this secluded mountain. I walked outside and asked someone in the parking lot where to get breakfast. He suggested a small store down the street, and implied it was his go-to spot during his Silverton adventures.
We opted for the motel’s continental breakfast. Between the best chocolate scones in the world (literally) and some eggs that had sat in my car for eight hours the day before, our group of four managed to consume enough fuel to get us to lunchtime — so we hoped.
When we arrived at 3:00 AM the night before, the motel’s parking lot was full. By 7:30 AM, it was almost empty. Every guest was there to ski Silverton. These were no winter-vacation warriors who had flown from Dallas to Vail to get their obligatory five days between Christmas and New Years.
Arriving at the hill, employees directed us into a parking spot. It was below zero, and the atmosphere was different than your average ski resort lot. No music was playing; no beers were open. Everyone was focused on putting their gear on as fast as possible.
We quickly shuffled up to the lodge, a cross between a tent and a log cabin. We placed lunch orders for turkey sandwiches to be retrieved after noon. In order to check-in we had to show that we had all the necessary avalanche gear. Being rookies in that area, we were the last guys in the lodge.
Photo: Matias Rodlauer
Outside the tent and next to the only chairlift on the mountain — a two-person apparatus that required removal of our backpacks — we were grouped with two others, a skier and a snowboarder. Our guide for the day, “Roof,” a nine-year veteran, gave us a safety talk (once again: not your typical mountain) and we were off to the races.
For the first three quarters of the chair ride, Silverton looked like any other steep resort – albeit with fewer people. It wasn’t until after we transitioned over the main ridge that Silverton’s reputation as a backcountry playground was upheld. There were jagged peaks to our right, already being hiked by die-hards that looked like stick figures in the distance. Below the peaks were large pockets of snow that had recently felt the devastating force of a controlled slide. The scars were noticeable: damaged trees and big chunks of avalanche debris.
Photo: Matias Rodlauer
Our first run featured some hiking, a big fall by me (embarrassing), and tight turns into some of the deepest and thickest snow I’ve ever skied on a sunny day. We finished our first lap by skiing down to an unmarked road and waiting for a converted school bus — satirically named “Silverton Mountain Correctional Facility” — to drive us back to the one and only lift. (Some runs at Silverton delivered us to the bus, while others sent us straight to the lift.)
We lapped the mountain five times that day, each lap taking roughly an hour. Our biggest hike was the first run of the morning. It was the only one that required us to strap our skis to our backpacks. Otherwise, getting to our drops meant long traverses or short, uphill walks with our skis over our shoulders.
Lift rides typically involved one-on-one small talk with strangers, in which we would both acknowledge how Silverton drastically differed from our home mountains. “There’s really nothing like it, man” and “I’ve really never done skiing like this before,” became my small-talk lines for the day.
When we were there, it seemed like more than half of the riders were unguided, meaning that they didn’t opt for a guide to show them secret spots or caution them in certain areas. By the time you’re reading this, however, Silverton will offer guided service only because the avalanche danger will have become too high. Nonetheless, if you’re planning a trip to this one-of-a-kind mountain for next season, and you haven’t been before, go with the guided option. Roof knew every inch of the mountain, including the specific sections of glades that still remained untracked. Also, making powder calls to signal group members behind you, following a trail of “woo-woo’s!” as a means of navigation is a truly awesome experience.
Because only 30 to 40 percent of the mountain was open, we mainly had access to the front side. That area tended to be more gladed and less open than the back. Much of the tree skiing was tight and the snow was deep and heavy. It’s the type of tree skiing that allows a maximum of ten turns before you ungracefully stop because your legs are dead or you’re about to hit a tree, or both. It was tough skiing for a group of guys that were used to the more forgiving terrain offered by Vail Resorts.
Don’t get me wrong though, we loved every second of it. It was challenging but incredibly rewarding, much like running a half marathon. Skiing glades at Vail has been easier since the experience, but certainly less exciting. Here’s the thing: if you’re someone that enjoys skiing every bit of terrain available in bounds, and you’re starting to get that itch to go into the backcountry, then you have to go to Silverton. It will simultaneously scratch that itch and leave you wanting more.
