I've been skiing Colorado resorts for some time now, and I often find it hard to explain objectively why I like Telluride so much. Telluride certainly doesn't have Vail's snow or massive acreage. By mega-resort standards, it is a small mountain, hard to get to, and at best quirky when it comes to lift placement. And yet...standing atop Milk run this bright sunny morning, looking down at velvetty groomed perfection leading all the way to town 1785 vertical feet below, I can't say there's any other mountain I'd rather ski.
Telluride is one of those elusive 'wa' sort of places. Winding along its ridgetops, maching out through the compression at the bottom of Coonskin, stopping always to be dazzled by the views, you just can't easily express what happens inside you here. But oh, what a feeling!
I kept hitting Milk Run over and over, fresh tracks of the groomed sort until my legs started to protest. Then it was off to the Plunge—also groomed—for another round of effortlessly smooth high-g curves. And no crowds! You know, it's as if some crazy bastard built this whole damn place just for your own personal enjoyment. Like going to a movie and finding yourself the only one inside.
Perfection. Sheer perfection is what today offered. But wait—what's this? I see on the patrol board that Palmyra Peak has just opened. Well now...there's really no choice to be made, is there? I think I'll zip over to the Prospect Lift and start hiking. Check back soon and I'll let you know how it goes...