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No need to blush. For one thing, The Glades is a reward for all the skiing it takes to get to it. The ski resort is spiderwebbed with trails, and this area is hard to find. This quick 1,200 feet of perfect skiing is part of a three-mile run down the mountain, most of which is pretty routine skiing. If you want to ski The Glades all day, you must work for it.
I skied The Glades several times last year, first following the kidney-shaped turns of Stein Eriksen and later, in powder, across ice and frost, through sun and shadow, slaloming around the trees, playing with all the pretty people of Sugarbush. And the guy was right when he said it. It is poetic.
PAYDAY, PARK CITY
Park City, Utah stirs in a lot of history with its skiing, and the one key trail in town rides right through an old mining camp complete with wind-scrubbed buildings and silent hoists, their ore buckets rusted into place. From atop the hill on a clear day you can see forever—which is all the way to Wyoming. Payday spills down the mountain for two and three-quarter miles—flying easily all the way—and finishes with a fine flourish in a steeper, headier, 6,000-foot dash to the front door of the lodge.
The payoff of Park City is in running the hill from its 9,270-foot peak, across high meadows, along catwalks (they are old pack trails, and riding them calls for a lot of tight checking), down into the camp. Then, after a 1,500-foot rope tow over a high saddle, comes the real Payday. You burst down a rolling slope into a revitalized ghost town, full of new life in an oldtime western setting.
CHARTREUSE TRAIL, ALTA
Big hills can be beautiful when they're up to your fanny packs in light, dry powder snow. Such is life at Alta, Utah, traditionally a land of steely-eyed experts. But take hope, intermediates. There is something you should know about the place. Around behind that monster mountain, in a lonely, silent curve, lies America's best all-powder playground. Further, it is a run everybody can ski, whooping along through an untracked, untouched, unexpert field of fluff.
From a 10,400-foot notch in the Wasatch Mountains (Alta's ski lifts are on the other side in the accompanying illustration), Chartreuse takes up an entire mountainside, floating down in rolling solitude across—pick your course—two, three, four miles of sailing. At the top, standing on the roof of Utah, it seems steep. It is, at first. But unlike the other side, where those experts are, here you can relax. Let your skis run; it eases off quickly, and there are rolling flats ahead that you can stroll across. Great place for a picnic. There is a view all around, a new ski world to see. If you time it right, it can take all day.
Back in the days when Sun Valley was known as Hollywood in the Snow, it was Very Right to be seen there and all right to ski there—but don't go near the powder. First thing each day, while the socialites were wriggling out of their hangovers and into their ski clothes, patrolmen would swarm out over Bald Mountain and trample down all the fresh snow. Then at a given signal would come sunshine, followed by movie stars, followed by Steve Hannagan and photographers, followed by pictures in papers all over the country. And they all made it back to the lodge in time for tea.