From Dry Spell to Deep Days: Snow Returns to the Tetons
Time ticks strangely when the snow doesn’t fly. Not necessarily at first, but stretch the dry spell out long enough, and oddities inevitably arise. In the immediate aftermath of a large storm cycle, bluebird skies are welcomed by skiers looking to explore and exploit the boundless fields of freshly fallen crystals. But before long, easy untracked turning switches to powder-scrap searching and g-force grooming. The soft snow and enthusiasm still remain, but behind the scenes, things are starting to subtly change. Steady winds design patterns of sastrugi on impossible land shapes, as the solar rays metamorphosize and sublimate the unshaded landscape. The game changes too, as riders turn their focus away from the terrain and texture and towards the tiny details by dialing in their turn or polishing up a new flash trick. For a while it seems that no matter what the weather does, the skiing will always be sick. But as we approached a full month of snow-free sliding, there was a bubbling bewilderment building. Stories of brown slopes across the western US became hard to ignore when once-buried features began to resurface. It felt like a return to the scenario we'd seen at the start of the season when we endured another long, dry, and mild spell. That memory was giving jittery locals faint hope that the Teton Trickle, which had settled in to save us in January, was just around the corner. But the ways in which the mountain can heal are many and varied, and this time was different. It wouldn’t be slow and steady; it would be drought to deluge.
Somehow, despite the excitement of fresh-snow daydreaming, stretches of abundant sunshine have a sedative effect, and sometimes when weather returns, it can catch you by surprise. Lulled into your routine, a little system sneaks up, and one day without any fanfare, it hits. That day came for us on February 11th. The first signs of an impending change came on the 9th when 2 inches touched up the terrain. On the 10th, a solid 8 inches followed up the 2, but after such a long snow-free stretch, firm-bottom dwelling remained the only available off-trail option. The morning of the 11th dawned with a scant 2 inches of fresh over the previous 24 hours, leaving nervous, nail-biting skeptics envisioning strategic turn necessitation. Little did they know that in the wee morning hours a transformation was taking place. Snow stacked heavy and hard during the pre-lift hours, leading to at least a half foot of explosive pow before opening. Thanks to the underwhelming official snow tally, a minimal number of skiers took maximum early advantage while heavy accumulations continued. Around midday it became clear that this rejuvenation wouldn’t take as long as the last. The morning shin splashers were turning to afternoon face shots and over-the-head vapor clouds. With walk-on trams and empty trails, it was like a private powder party. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, we were back in the blower, and the satisfying sensations from the current feast had erased the mental craze from the extended famine, for now at least. By the time the quick-hitter had left the area, just shy of two and a half feet had fallen, more than enough to medicate the burly conditions on the mountain and fully satiate any surly dispositions in the crowd. The story of this storm may appear to be through, but the snow-starved locals and lucky-timing visitors were not the only ones feeling the positivity from the pow. While the commoners were cashing in, a colossal cadre of highly amped alpine aristocracy had quietly descended on Jackson in hopes of laying claim to the title of Rendezvous Royalty as king and queen of Corbet’s Couloir.
The steep stage had been set for some time. Smoothed from north winds and lack of traffic, Corbet’s was well prepared to play host. Park technicians and groomers had put final touches on the venue with fingers crossed that the green light would be given to the eager ski nobility. But ultimately, it was the blast of fresh snow that allowed for the jaw-dropping display that went down. Under partly cloudy skies, a large gathering of onlookers formed in Tensleep Bowl to watch the friendly battle unfold. Classic styles intermingled with cutting-edge creativity in one of the most entertaining contests to date. Novel entrances and unique transition sniping led to drool-inducing turns in the couloir and physics-defying tricks off the final booter. Massive double inverts had to be weighed against playfully difficult rail entrances. Loose, unbridled speed techniques needed to contend with methodically controlled approaches. Following reflective judgement by their peers, the 2026 crowns were awarded to returning queen from 2022, Piper Kunst, and first-time king, Tristan Lilly. All hail their big-mountain majesty.
And so now we slide on into the second half of the ski season. It’s been a little bizarre without an identifying personality so far. We’ve seen a little bit of everything, from cold powder mornings and mild bluebird days to corn snow in January and wild raging windstorms. Looking inside my stellar crystal ball, I see a promising new series of disturbances gathering over the horizon, but what comes next is truly anyone's guess. Regardless, in the end we’ll all confess that any day spent out in the snow is bound to be the best.
-Dr. Huckinstuff