Even though we started skinning around 8 AM, there was already a skintrack all the way to the top. On the way up, we analyzed the number of pole holes trying to determine the size of the party, as well as any down tracks to subtract from that number. I can't remember what we deduced. I know that I was wrong, but that's nothing new. It was obvious once we reached the bottom of the run, and could see the entirety of Montreal Hill. There were two skiers, and they we just starting down their run. They saw us as well. Next thing I knew it was mad dash to get up the trail first.
Of course, the skiers were cool and there was no need to rush. The coolest part was when the guy started telling us what a good skintrack they had put up. I know where the guy is coming from. Everyone likes to have his/her work admired and respected. It was a good skintrack, for the most part, except for where it went through the trees and the roots pushed you one way and the braches the other. Drew said the hardest part of the day was getting out of the tree pit when the awkward V3 skin move pushed him down. I wish I could have seen it. There are few funnier things than someone stuck in a tree pit.
We hear them on top of our second lap. The ceaseless "wup-wup-wup-wup" of the rotors send anger from my brain to every part of my body. This was the first time for any of us on Montreal Hill, mainly because this is the first stop on the Powderbirds Heliskiing tour. Now, they were coming to poach our lines. I see them coming over Poleline Pass, and with a few quick switchbacks I am standing on the ridgetop at the start of the run, giving them the single-finger salute at full attention. They fly over, see us, and fly off to another spot in the drainage. We know they'll be back. The avalanche danger today is high, leaving few spots that are safe for them to ski. The favorite one of the heli-maggots is the one we are standing over. The group of Drew, Tyler, Jade and me regroup on the ridge. We take our time with the change-over, and are still on top when they make the next fly-by. We salute again, this time from a relaxed position.
We ride the snow and it is beautiful. This is the pinnacle of existence, to ski untracked, soft and fluffy powder snow. I can hear the snow collapse under me with the tell-tale "whoopf," but this slope is not steep enough to slide, and the sound propels me down a little faster.
