Hike-to Skiing & Snowboarding
Silverton Mountain:
In a Class by Itself
Stunning terrain surrounds Susan as she hikes at Silverton Mountain, Colo.
Sucking wind.
That’s what first pops into my mind when I recall my trip to Silverton Mountain.
Note to self: No matter how fit you are, flatlanders should build in at least one or two days of acclimating before trying to hike to terrain above 12,000 feet. Scheduling prevented us from doing that this time, but never again, I vowed to myself.
Wow! Check out those views!
That’s my second thought. Once I could find it in me to look up instead of at my plodding ski boots, vast wilderness greeted me. Tucked up into the mountains far away from civilization, the only evidence of people was Silverton’s one chairlift and camp-like base area, plus cars lined up in the dirt parking lot, and you don’t see them for long. Everywhere I looked, I saw steep chutes and bowls sliced by jagged cliffs. Some of it looked unforgiving, some offered lines that begged to be skied.
Silverton Mountain
Colorado
Mail address: P.O. Box 654,
Silverton, CO 81433
Reservations: (970) 387-5706
Internet: www.silvertonmountain.com
E-mail: info@silvertonmountain.com
Hours: 9 a.m.-3 p.m.,
Thursday–Sunday only
Base elevation: 10,400 feet
Peak of chair: 12,300 feet
Peak of hike-to terrain:
13,487 feet
Acreage: 1,819 acres
Easiest run: About 35 degrees. Advanced and expert skiers/riders only.
Logistics: Reservations are required. Avalanche beacon, probe and shovel are required (rentals available). Silverton is a guided experience; unguided skiing/riding is offered only during the early and late season (see the website for dates).
Which leads me to the killer terrain.
That’s my third thought. Or maybe my second. It’s rather a blur because the experience is a combination of the two. Regardless, let’s talk about that killer terrain. It is worthy of single- and double-diamond ratings, all of it ungroomed, none of it easy to get down if you don’t feel comfortable off-piste.
As I looked around, it dawned on me that this was not the place to fall and get injured. Extrication off the mountain would take an excruciatingly long time. With just one lift followed by hiking, it’s similar to being in the backcountry, and once you’re at the base, then you’re hauled 6.5 miles down a dirt road plus another 38 miles to the nearest hospital in Durango. The seed of caution was firmly planted in my brain—first by the adamant warnings our guide had given during orientation, second by just seeing it for myself.
I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s rewind a bit. Once everyone had gotten avalanche gear, signed wavers and finished other must-do activities, we were separated into groups. Not by skiing ability, but by HIKING ability. This makes sense, since everyone here is supposed to be at least an advanced skier or rider. Participants spanned a wide range of ages, from a youngster who looked about 12 (this was his second day in a row here with his dad) to men and women in their 50s. We got to choose from two categories: medium-fast hikers and uber-fast hikers. Ummm…what about turtle-slow hikers? Giggles around me indicated that thoughts I’d meant to keep to myself had been blurted out. Oops.
But, oh, goody! We ended up in a group of men and women in their 20s, making us the old folks, since we’re in our 40s. A few were flatlanders, like us, but several were from Boulder. No fair! Even less fair: One of the flatlanders was training for a marathon. Needless to say, his lungs turned out not to be “flatlander lungs” and he even out-hiked the Boulderites…enough so that we’ve got photos of him standing alone on mountain peaks as he waited for the rest of us to catch up.
Once everyone had gotten avalanche gear, signed wavers and finished other must-do activities, we were separated into groups. Not by skiing ability,
but by HIKING ability.
Ah, yes, I shouldn’t forget to mention the lack of crowds. With a limit of 80 people allowed on the mountain on any given day during the guided season, and no more than eight people to a guide, you’re not fighting the hordes over fresh lines.
While I was a tad embarrassed by my inability to hike as quickly as the 20-somethings we were grouped with, I was pleased to see that once I clicked into my bindings, I could hold my own. I had no problem tackling the steep terrain or the snow conditions, which ranged from deep but wet to windblown to spring corn to absolute mush due to a recent spate of warm weather. Not exactly the billowy powder Silverton’s famous for, and I couldn’t help but wish we’d hit the jackpot for snow, since the skiing would have been significantly easier. I was grateful that I had years of experience skiing less-than-stellar snow conditions, since there’s no bailing out here if you decide you’d rather be on a groomer.
After the Hiking, You Test Out the Goods
Our first run was through a north-facing stash of pines called Thread. Scott and I were both feeling pretty confident, since our home mountain is Jay Peak in Vermont and we’re accustomed to skiing in the woods. The entry to Thread required that we follow one after another, creating a luge run of sorts through pines along the slightly vertical ridge. But we soon reached a point where we could fan out and pick our own line. The snow was deep, but wet, making it rather tricky to find clean lines through the trees. We kept tabs on each other by listening to the giggles and hoots.
After strapping skis to packs and crossing the river walking on quite slippery rocks, we had
to hike up the other
side of the ravine to a logging road.
Next up: The Cabin. It’s an east-facing, wide-open bowl of snow that was surprisingly light considering the warm temperatures. As we each dove into our line of choice, we discovered a bit of blower snow on top, the closest thing to powder we’d find all day—all two inches of it. If you bent your knees as much as possible, you could almost get a face shot! The bowl soon funneled us into a wide chute filled with spring bumps of corn. We all came to an abrupt stop at the bottom. A river blocked our way. Any thoughts of looking for a path alongside it were quickly dashed as our guide instructed us to find a way to ford it.
After strapping skis to packs and crossing the river walking on quite slippery rocks, we had to hike up the other side of the ravine to a logging road. I already didn’t like the idea. First, I didn’t want to slip and get wet. Second, the ravine on the other side was steep and the snow was deep. I soon discovered that I was too short to use the steps pounded into the snow by taller people before me, and ended up hugging the mountainside as I crawled up on my hands and knees. I declare this to be the most intimidating and difficult part of the entire day. Once we were at the top of the ravine, we skied down a logging road to the shuttle bus.
Oh, what joy! Our first shot at the infamous shuttle bus. We were soon packed in like heifers, standing chin to head to back to elbow with complete strangers as the bus careened down the muddy road. This shuttle driver needed some more driving lessons.
We arrived back at the base just in time for a noon lunch. Only lunch wasn’t ready yet. I was positive I’d skied off my bagel breakfast. Sustenance was in order. But we all agreed to head back up for one more run. We didn’t want to waste any time waiting around while lunch was being prepared.
I soon discovered
that I was too short to use the steps pounded into the snow by
taller people before me, and ended up hugging the mountainside as
I crawled up on my hands and knees.
This time, we hiked a bit longer to get to our destination: Tiger Claw. Scott scouted out the area for photo ops and after some discussion with our guide, he got permission to access Tiger Claw from a lower angle so he could set up for the shots. I was exhausted and decided to go with him, rather than continue hiking to the top. It turned out we made the right call: The top entrance was icy, intimidating the entire group as they tackled it one by one. From where we were stationed, we had the best entrance and after everyone else had passed, we dipped in behind them and found nice chalky snow. We all worked our way over the ridge to Sunset, which was filled with perfect spring corn as it funneled into a narrow chute. By the time we reached the bottom, we all had jelly legs.
After another lurching ride in the shuttle, we arrived at base and discovered that it was already 2:30 p.m. We were given a choice: Call it quits and eat lunch now, or take one last run and have a very late lunch.
I knew I couldn’t wait that long to eat, my body was tired and shutting down. Others decided they wanted to get in one last run. Although I encouraged Scott to join them, he agreed it was time to call it quits, especially after recalling that we had seven more days of skiing left in our trip. It also gave us time to wander around, talk with a few people, and get a better feel for what Silverton Mountain is all about.
The Obligatory Ponderings
I’m going to digress a bit to explain why Scott and I wanted to ski at Silverton. It wasn’t just because we’d heard all the hype about the terrain, though that was certainly a big draw. The reasons are a bit more subtle than that.
To us, skiing at
Silverton was an opportunity to get a
nice blend of the
cat skiing and
backcountry experiences.
We spend the majority of our time skiing off-piste when we’re at resorts. We’ve done a few cat skiing trips as well as some limited backcountry touring. To us, skiing at Silverton was an opportunity to get a nice blend of the cat skiing and backcountry experiences. While we certainly test ourselves in challenging terrain, skiing is much more about immersing ourselves in the environment and enjoying a communion with the mountains, each other and our friends.
Fortunately, our assigned group all seemed to be of a similar mindset. Nobody was trying to pack as many runs as possible into the day, instead we were all taking time to enjoy the surroundings and appreciate the uniqueness that is Silverton.
I would be remiss if I wrote about Silverton without addressing the reality of how it operates. This is not a resort. But it’s not absolute, uncontrolled wilderness either. You are a client here, the owners have certain guidelines they must adhere to in order to operate their business, avalanches are a genuine threat, and guides ultimately decide where you will and will not go.
When you hear complaints about Silverton, the major ones have a common thread: People didn’t get as many runs as they expected because a flatlander held everyone back on the hiking portion. Or perhaps someone thought they were a better skier than they really were, so everyone else had to wait and also was forced to ski the easiest terrain (which is still comparable to an ungroomed single-diamond at any destination resort). Most likely, you'll be in a group that is a combination of both, since many people overestimate their skiing abilities and not all of us who ski also live and play regularly at high altitude. The only way to avoid either of these scenarios is to bring your own group.
Silverton is a dream that Aaron and Jen Brill made come true. They wanted to create a
skiing experience like
no other.
I’ve also heard complaints of “farming the snow.” While we didn’t experience that, I think it should be expected, since Silverton is more like a cat-skiing or heli-skiing operation than it is a typical resort where people ski wherever they want and do as many laps on the same terrain as they want. Everyone’s paying good money to have a go at untracked lines, so it’s only fair not to let one group hog all the bounty.
While the complaints may be valid, there’s something about Silverton Mountain that shouldn’t be overlooked. Silverton is a dream that Aaron and Jen Brill made come true. They wanted to create a skiing experience like no other. They wanted a place where the mountain is left as untouched and undeveloped as possible. They wanted a place where like-minded skiers and riders can meet each other. They’ve certainly accomplished that. And it’s been done with blood and sweat and I’m sure a lot of tears too.
At the end of the day, I can think of few places I’d rather be than sitting around a wood stove drinking beer and swapping tales with the guides, the owners and a group of people who came to ski and ride a mountain that’s pretty much the way Mother Nature left it.
For more pictures of Silverton Mountain, please visit the “Skiing & Snowboarding” album in our Photo Galleries.