The Last Last Last Day

To All, 

Its May 17th, and the worst Colorado ski season in memory has finally ended.  Most people I know gave up on skiing weeks or even months ago, but shouldn't have. The last few weeks have actually been really nice, and the fact that people stopped showing up made it even nicer. Nothing like short to non-existent lift lines to make a good day even better.  

Closing days at ski areas are always a bittersweet affair, for enjoying something you love for one last time creates some mixed feelings.  There aren't many activities we do that come with a finite end date, so enjoying those last few blasts down the hill makes me sad and happy at the same time. Ski area closings usually happen progressively, not all at once. Locally, Arrowhead and Bachelor Gulch close first, then Beaver Creek, followed by Vail and Steamboat. Breckenridge and Copper come next, and A Basin is usually the last to close.  This year they all closed early, which reinforced the perception that the skiing was terrible, though the last few weeks of skiing were actually pretty good.  I went to Steamboat's final day, and they got thirteen inches of snow that last week. If you looked up at Mount Werner from town, the ski area looked bare. But the reality was that the upper mountain was terrific, and the skiing was great. Since there was no snow on the lower part of the mountain, getting off the hill involved taking the gondola down the hill which felt a little strange.  It was worth it though. Although we didn't get any huge dumps of snow, there were other pretty good days and I was able to time my trips there to be there when they happened.  

 On the Thursday before Steamboat closed, I ran up there to ski on my birthday.  It has snowed the day before, and I was looking forward to getting into some of it. On the way up to the top of the mountain riding the Wild Blue gondola, things didn't look too promising at the bottom of the hill. But then halfway up, things changed. The world became white again, the transition from spring to winter was almost instantaneous. The skiing was great that day, and I was able to ski amongst the aspen trees for one of the only times all year. But it was a very windy day, and as the wind blew harder the Sunshine Express lift was closed for safety. At the end of the day it was necessary to download to the bottom on the Wild Blue gondola, since there was no snow down there. There was a bit of a line to get on, and I ended up sharing the gondola with two women, and a family foursome. The Wild Blue opened last year, and is one of the longest gondolas in the world, going from the bottom of Mount Werner to the top. As soon as it began its descent, it began to rock back and forth in the wind.  After some quick banter, everyone settled in for the ride.  Due to the wind,  the speed of the gondola was slowed waaay down, to maybe walking speed. As the gondola swayed back and forth, I thought about a detailed news report I had just watched that week. It was the fortieth anniversary of a tragic accident in Vail in which a cable broke, and a couple gondolas plummeted to the ground resulting in several fatalities.

  During an awkward silence, my inner wiseass awakened, perhaps feeling some birthday entitlement. I told my gondola partners about the Vail incident, and one of the women looked at me with lowered eyebrows and "thanked me for sharing".  There were a couple of chuckles, and then more silence as the gondola continued its ever so slow crawl down the hill, while swinging back and forth. After another silence, I added to no one in particular that the Vail gondolas fell 125 feet, and that they were travelling 60 mph when they hit the ground.  This time, just more lowered eyebrows from the woman, and a couple of nervous titters. After a half hour of the world's slowest gondola ride, we were almost to the bottom. The gondola was still pretty high, but the wind had finally eased up a little. The father of the family looked towards the bottom of the hill we were finally approaching, and said with some relief "Well looks like we finally made it!" My inner wiseass wasn't done however.  I heard myself say, "That's what one of the Vail survivors said just before the cable broke".  We were close enough to the bottom that everyone laughed, even Ms. Lowered Eyebrows.

In March I got to ski Aspen, and was initially disappointed by the conditions.  March should have the best snow of the year, but I wasn't used to seeing so much bare ground everywhere when it should have been ass deep powder. But then I thought about it and tried to put it in a different light.  What if it were May instead of March? If I were skiing those same conditions in May, I'd be ecstatic.  The problem wasn't the snow that I found myself on, it was the expectations I had for what March skiing should be like. So I managed my expectations, which I could control, and found myself enjoying the actual snow conditions under my feet, which I couldn't. By pretending it was May instead of March, I suddenly found myself enjoying a spectacular day of May skiing on Aspen mountain.  Since it was warm enough to feel like May, it wasn't that hard to do. It was wonderful May skiing, just in March. 

Like Steamboat, when Beaver Creek closed the following week the upper mountain skied well but the lower part was barely covered. I skied there a couple of weeks before they closing , and it was pretty good from top to bottom. But when I went back a few days later, I was shocked to see how much the snow had disappeared in such a short time. March is usually the snowiest month in Colorado, but this year it was the hottest and driest on record, and that really did a number on the snowpack. But the last day turned out pretty great.  I found a groomed run that everyone seemed to have missed, and just kept doing laps on it until everyone else discovered it, too. I didn't want the day to end, so I began thinking of doing the hike up to the Bald Spot, which is through a gate above the Cinch lift.  It had been years since I'd skied it, and it wasn't even sure if there was enough snow up there to do so. I knew that there was usually an end of season party in the pasture on the way to the Bald Spot, and hoped that I'd find someone else who might want to hike there as well. When I got to the pasture there were already about a hundred people there, some loud thumpy dance music blaring through some big speakers.  Meanwhile, some guys were building a ramp to jump off of, using their snowboards as a shovels. The pasture was sloped, and when the jump was finished some of them began walking up the hill. Then, one at a time they began skiing and riding down the hill to fly off the ramp they made. The first few didn't have much speed, but as the track became packed down they went faster and the jumps and tricks became better.  I couldn't find anyone going to the Bald Spot, and so, I walked up the hill and did a run and jump myself. No tricks on my part, just a boring jump off the ramp and clean landing.  Then a member of Ski Patrol showed up on a snowmobile, and I thought that would be the end of the party. But he was just there to announce that the mountain was closing for the season, and that Patrol was leaving, so we were on our own. He asked us all to be careful, and to please clean up after ourselves, and with that he turned the snow machine downhill and left.  

Then the party went into another gear.  This was a stage of the party I'd never stuck around long enough to see. People started disappearing into the woods, and emerging with dead branches. They began stacking them up just below the ramp, and when the pile was big enough someone set it on fire. At that point people began trudging up the hill again, and this time when they flew off the ramp they were going over the fire as well.  Most of them made it with room to spare, but one guy on a snowboard cut it a little close, possibly due to alcohol consumption.  Anyway, if he had he caught fire there would have been plenty of frozen water to put him out with at 11,500 feet. 

With the Beav closed my attention turned to Copper Mountain.  This is a mountain that I've really come to love and respect since I started skiing it again back in 2020.  It has a combination of high altitude and extensive snowmaking that makes a great place to ski during early and late season.  And the scenery is sublime, with some of the best views in Colorado and thats saying something. Sometimes I think that it might the last place people will be able to ski at in thirty years, given the warming and drying trends we've seen over the last twenty. Copper also previously announced an early closing date, but got creative and managed to squeeze out a few more weeks. Since the base areas seemed to be the weak point for most of the local ski hills, Copper took the snow from the tubing hill and moved it over to the base of the Superbee lift. Then they shaved the snow from the side of their halfpipe, and put it near Center Village to keep those lifts running. It was a brilliant move and it worked.

Their last weekend was a real lesson in how to run a ski resort.  This is when those bittersweet feelings first began to emerge, since A Basin was also planning to close on that coming Sunday. First, on the last Friday Copper was open they kept the lifts running until seven pm, something I've never seen a ski area do in my fifty years of skiing. In addition, for their last weekend they opened up the close-in parking lots and made them free, so there was no bus ride from the more distant parking lot needed.  On top of that, at 330pm they temporarily closed the upper lift so that they could send a squadron of snowcats up to groom Copperopolis, a wide blue run.  When they restarted the lift at 5pm, we were welcomed to the sight of a wide, perfect swath of corduroy. There was a beautiful sunset that evening, and many of us on the slope took our sweet time getting down the hill. For me, since it would be my last run of the year,  I was in no hurry for it to be over. It was sad to be packing up my ski gear for the last time, but I was consoled by the fact that it was such a great day to end the season on. I had begun skiing at eleven am, and skied until almost eight pm, and was pretty worn out but in a good way. 

Then on Monday came the announcement that A Basin was going to add another week.  This was great news, for I couldn't wait to get back on my skis. Even better, they got 20" of snow in the previous week days. So on Thursday night, I drove up there and dirtbagged it in the back of my 4Runner. On Friday morning I rolled out of my sleeping bag and into the lift line, and got to be one of the first people back on top of the mountain, with an endless expanse of fresh snow awaiting me.  The sun was out and I was as happy as I could ever remember being.  What followed was seven straight hours of non-stop laps down the mountainside.  It did get a little crowded, especially for the upper lift, but I realized that the lower one was being ignored, so I did run after run on that and was loving every turn I carved. When the final run was on tap, it occurred to me that sometimes at A Basin they can be a little slack as to when they stop loading the lift, and will go a wee bit past four pm.  So instead of taking my sweet time for my last run of the year, I pointed my skis straight downhill and went as fast as I could on very tired legs. That effort was rewarded though, for when I tore into the lift line at 404pm they let me back on.  I got to do one more Last Run, and this time I went as slowly as possible. It was a great way to finish a lousy year. 

But then, a miracle. On Monday I found out that A Basin was extending their season for one more weekend! On Thursday night I drove up there again, and once more spent the night in the back of my truck. After a burrito and some hot coffee, I was back near the front of the lift line and riding up the hill again.  This time fewer people seemed to have gotten the memo that they were back open, and the lift lines were very short all day. Although there wasn't any fresh snow that week, what snow they had held up well and it skied great.  The sky was a brilliant blue all day without a single cloud, and the snow softened up beautifully.  There was no lift line for the upper lift, so I did laps off that all day.

The small pond that forms near the summit each spring at A Basin was back, and its just not springtime at A Basin without a little pond skimming.  The first time I tried it many years ago I made it, but every time I've tried to do it since I've fallen short.  Its pretty humiliating to find yourself sinking into a frozen body of water in front of a hooting crowd of people, but for some reason I kept trying. On Friday that pond was a little smaller than normal, and a majority of the skiers and riders I saw doing it seemed to make it across. One person failed when another tried to do it at the same time, and when he reduced his speed to avoid the other skier he ended up in the drink. Another guy I watched from the chairlift didn't keep his tips up, and did a complete face plant into the icy water. So I waited until my last run to try it again, and secured my phone in my back so that if I went swimming too I could keep it dry. I waited until no one else was going, and began my run down to the pond.  One thing that I've learned from my many failures at pond skimming is that you need to go as fast as possible.  As I rocketed down the hill and approached the water, I noticed a guy waist deep in the middle of the water.  I yelled out a loud "Oh Shit!" and when the guy in the pond saw me heading his way, he began furiously paddling his way to the side.  This was my one shot, and I wasn't going to slow down or wait til next year to try again, so I was going for it whether he was in the way or not.  I hit the water with speed, kept my tips up, and shot across the water splashing the interloper in the process. (It turns out he was a Fail, and had gone back out into the water groping for his lost ski).

Mission accomplished, I was finally ready to call it a ski season.  And although its been a winter to remember for all the wrong reasons, at least it ended with three of the best days I've ever had on skis.  

Jack Bombardier

PS - I love Tik Tok. That seems to make me a minority amongst my fellow 65 year olds, but sorry I think Tik Tok is great.  The only other person I know who enjoys it is the young woman I met a few years ago while she walked from the headwaters of the Colorado River to the point where it disappears into the Sea of Cortez (her handle is "Nomad Diaries" if you would like to share her trip. This summer she paddled the length of the Green River). 

  Anyway a few weeks ago I started posting videos on Tik Tok myself.  I get to see lots of interesting things each day, whether it be scenery, wildlife or just interesting places in Colorado. Most of the videos are pretty short, so if you've got time to waste you can check them out at" Jack Bombardier" on Tik Tok. They're as plain as can be with no bells and whistles.  They are just little glimpses into mountain (and riparian) life

A Short Window To Fish?

 

To All,

Its been a bumpy ride this spring watching the Lower Upper Colorado rise and fall like a rollercoaster.  There have been some days when its been fishable, but they've been far and few between. After running at 400 cfs for awhile, (which is too low for me to get through Pinball cleanly), its inched back up to 500cfs. Living here beside the river for over twenty years, I thought I had a good feel for what the river would be doing next, but this spring has left me scratching my head. Its been more of a river to wade than float this year. 

However there is relief in sight. More water is scheduled to start being released later this week, just in time for Memorial Day weekend. I think that we may be entering a short window when the Colorado River might actually be worth fishing. That window may not stay open for long though.  We won't be seeing much of a runoff if any this year, and if things stay as warm as they have been, it won't take long for the water to warm up.  If that happens, we may be looking at voluntary fishing restrictions, and that could potentially last through summer. 

Even if that does happen, things should be sorted out by the fall, when the flows and fishing usually peak. But if you want to fish the Lower Upper Colorado River sooner than September, the next few weeks might be the best time to do it. Get out there while the getting is good!

Spring Sprang Sprung

To All,

It's Mother's Day 2026, in the middle of what has certainly been an interesting springtime in Colorado ("interesting" in a Chinese curse sort of way). After a winter in which we got only half our normal amount of snow, we're now seeing less than half the normal amount of water in our rivers. The Lower Upper Colorado River, flowing about twenty feet away from me as I write this, is currently at 468 cfs and dropping. That doesn't sound too bad, but for  context the mean average for May 10th is 2,200 cfs.  

Yesterday I drove along the Arkansas River to Salida, and things are the same down there. Flows are around 300 cfs, but it should be in runoff mode right now and much higher. The primary reservoir source for the Ark is Twin Lakes, but that's pretty low right now too. It doesn't appear as though it will fill either this year, which isn't good news for the normally bustling rafting businesses on the Arkansas.  There is a management agreement in place which is supposed to "guarantee" 700 cfs during the summer to keep those many rafts afloat, but if there's no water to supply it then that agreement might have well been written on water.  

  Driving through the heart of the state yesterday, I saw a lot of irrigation systems that didn't seem to be doing much. If there isn't water for the fields in May, what will July and August look like? The folks in Fruita that my wife has been buying hay from twice a year don't have any to sell this year.  She thought that she had lined some up to come from someone in Laramie she found on Craigslist, and paid them a $700 deposit using Venmo to pay for their diesel. But when they didn't show up yesterday, and she did a little more research, she realized that was a scam.  They've taken money from others using the same tactic. Now we're scrambling to find some food for our livestock, and we're not the only ones.  It wasn't very nice getting ripped off on top of everything else. I can't understand how some people sleep at night, I assume it must take a lot of alcohol or pharmaceuticals.

At this point the low flows aren't posing an issue for the fish, yet.  The cold water coming out of the bottom of dams is keeping the water temps from getting too high, but that probably won't last.  Its already risen to 65F about a month early. In every low water year we've had, water temps have spiked and in some years there have been voluntary fishing closures to protect the fish.  Unless we get a drastic shift in our weather, that will happen again this year.  

Then there are the fluctuations the river has been going through.  Typically, once the ice melts off the river in late March, the water stays low and clear until the snowpack begins to melt.  It usually peaks in June, and then drops back down to some stable flow.  With several reservoirs upriver on the Colorado or its tributaries, that peak flow gets smoothed out, but that water which is held back in May and June gets released in July and August.  Its the management regime which is what created the fine trout fishery we enjoy today. But this year that steady rise hasn't happened, or rather its already happened a few times, followed by a big drop.  The normal hydrograph profile that should look like Volkswagen Beetle looks more like the roller coaster at Elitches.  

In the twenty plus years I've lived beside river, I've never seen the flows bounce around like this before.  I'm hoping that the low water not being released now will be coming down the river later this summer when it will be more critical.  

The one bright spot this spring was the skiing, oddly enough.  It may have been one of the worse snowpacks ever recorded, but there were some good days to be on the hill if you were able to time your visit right.  And though the season ended earlier than usual, conditions were pretty good at most ski resorts when they did pull the plug.  Steamboat got thirteen inches towards the end of its last week.  The upper mountain skied well, but there wasn't a snowflake to be found down below. Getting off the mountain at the end of the day involved taking a gondola downhill, an odd sensation. On Beaver Creek's final day, most of the mountain was pretty well covered though it was getting thin at the bottom. It could have stayed open longer, but it would have involved a downhill lift ride a la Steamboat. Closing Day came two weeks earlier than planned, which doesn't seem like a big difference. But the Beav usually closes not because of the conditions on the ground, but due to Forest Service permits and elk migration. It often has excellent snow on Closing Day. 

 Then there is Copper Mountain.  Copper did a better job of extending its season than any other ski area I'm familiar with. First, they managed to stay open almost as long as originally intended when the season started.  There initially was an early closing planned, but they did a great job of moving snow around at the bottom of the mountain to keep access to the lifts open. The snow from the tubing hill ended up near the bottom of the Superbee lift. They scraped snow off the side of their huge half pipe to keep things white at the Center Village.  On the Friday of their last weekend, they kept the lifts running until seven pm. This is something I've never seen a ski area ever do.  They also waived paid parking for the last weekend, so you could walk to a lift without having to take a bus.  The other unusual thing Copper did was to groom the run Copperopolis at four pm, and so when the lift that served that run reopened at five it yielded access to huge swath of fresh corduroy.  A Basin got into things by extending its season an extra week as well.  Twenty inches of snow fell during its last week, so when the lifts reopened on Friday morning for its last weekend, I was one of the first people in line.  It was a wonderful last day to ski, with lots of fresh snow and sunshine. The end of the season may have come too early, but at least it was a positive way to go out.  

So now at roughly the midpoint of springtime, the coming summer looks like it will be a challenging one on many levels.  What gives me some hope for the Colorado River is that although the reservoirs upstream are only half full, there are several of them.  The "Lower Upper" sits in the sweet spot below the supply, but above the demand.  There is enough water to keep us going this summer, so long as its released when its most needed and not too much of it flows east instead.  

There is supposed to be something called a "Super El Nino" forming in the Pacific Ocean, which may or may not result in a wetter weather pattern this summer, fall and winter.  The snowpack numbers for the last twenty five years have shown a steady decline, but every few years there's an outlier year where the snowpack looks great. We are due for a year like that, so I'll be doing a snow dance in October!

Jack Bombardier