Skiing in the rain at Deer Valley

It rained.

In Utah.

In the mountains.

In January.

This has never happened to me before. I can safely say I've never skied in the rain in my life. I know people in the Pacific Northwest and the East Coast ski in rain, sleet, and gloppy snow on a regular basis and think it's no big deal. But growing up in Colorado, I skied around Aspen where it was always cold and dry and never rained in the winter. I'm in my eighth year living in Utah and not a single drop has fallen in the Wasatch while on the slopes. This season, Utah has officially stolen my rain/ski virginity.

When Dan Kovach and I met each other at the mouth of Parley's Canyon to carpool up to Deer Valley, it was raining. Usually, rain in Salt Lake means snow in the mountains. But as we drove up to Park City, the rain didn't stop. When we parked the car at the resort, water was falling from the sky. And when we got on the lift and headed to Empire Canyon, the rain turned to sleet, then to wet snow that soaked right through our gear.

Despite it all, the skiing was surprisingly good. Up high the snow was moist powder that felt smooth and forgiving. But on lower elevations, we were turning through mashed potatoes. Actually, turning is an exaggeration. Concrete snow stuck to the top-sheets of our skis, adding 4 pounds of weight to every turn, forcing us into a sort of hop-slide-straightline form of skiing. To avoid that, we stayed high to ski the velvet cream, but all it took was a few minutes of sun peeking out from gray clouds to turn even that snow into pancake batter. And through it all, it rained.

I always wondered what it would be like to ski in the rain. I'd see pictures of skiers in Washington with beaver-tails to protect butts from slimy lift seats. From that image, I decided that I'd rather stay home then look like a beaver. But now I realize rain-skiing isn't all that bad. Sure it turns the snow to mush, water soaks through your jacket and runs down your back, and you can't see through water-logged goggles whatsoever. However, I found it was easy to simply laugh at the absurdity of the situation and concentrate on skiing. Once I got my rhythm and skied through the trees on creamy powder, everything else became a minor annoyance. That is until I got prune-hands inside my gloves and had to find a heater.

I guess now I can say I've skied in the rain. Unfortunately, it was in Utah where it's supposed to be dry, cold, light and snowy. Skiing in the rain wasn't quite the suffer-fest I thought it was going to be. But I'm not making plans to move to the  Pacific Northwest anytime soon.