I spent the last month or so trying to get my brother a skiing setup. We grew up skiing, but he quickly switch to climbing with a couple days on a snowboard thrown in each season while I starting skiing 80+ day seasons. Anyways, last Christmas I convinced him to rent some skis instead of a board, he did it and had a blast, he also asked me to help him get an AT setup. Shopping with somebody else's money is fun and I helped him piece together a setup pretty quickly. After getting him some gear, the next thing to do was to get him to come skiing. I'm still amazed it ended up going as well as it did. Here are some pictures, enjoy. If anybody wants the original photos for a desktop or something, PM me.
At the Snowbird beacon basin, just making sure both of us know how to use our respective stud-finders
After a few practice sessions, we slogged up Flagstaff at the end of the day. The sun had nuked things, then a breakable 30mm crust settled in. It was some of the worst skiing of my life. A decent way to introduce George to Utah I thought.
The next day, we decided to do some recon of an area I like in BCC, before the storms hit.
We spent our 3rd day playing around in Grizzly and Patsy Marely, post storm as you can tell from the pictures.
Giving a quick lesson in pit digging, I only include this photo to keep our Mother happy.
Me
G, changing over.
G
G
The next day was a rest day, I went to school for a bit. Later on we went and shot some innocent furry creatures with my girlfriend and my roomie. We don't really have guns in Canada, I had only shot something bigger than a .22 earlier that year, this was George's first time.
Me, demonstrating the finer points of lighting up the easter bunny with a 9mm.
George only recently got his skiing setup, this trip doubled the amount of skiing he had done in the last decade. The previous few days we had worked on his 'up' skills, but I decided to take us to Alta to work on the down part. Skiing Alta reminded my why I was happy to turn in to an elitist backcountry snob, but it was good practice anyways. We played around on the lifts for the morning, had beer on the patio at lunch, then my feet got their normal ski resort itch and we started hiking.
We skied this line, named the Seagull. Tilt your head to the side and it's pretty obvious where it's name comes from.
G, eating shit on the apron. Apparently a day at Alta hadn't prepared him for variable snow with a breakable 10mm crust.
Bottom of the run.
The next day was a storm tour through the aforementioned BCC area. Ran into a couple dudes at the trailhead that had kindly broken trail 1/3 of the way up, we put it the rest of the way up, but 3-4"/hr snowfall filled it in mighty fast.
This particular area had around 30" of fresh, as demonstrated by my pole.
And also demonstrated by me choking on it.
And George choking on it....
For my Brother's last day here, we decided to go back to the same spot in BCC.
Me, reaching for something I guess...
Me again:
G, getting sodomized by a tree.
Me, demonstrating what happens if you bury a tip too far.
George, I'd like to thank my camera's burst mode for this one.
Me...
And myself again.
Lastly, George and I together. Thanks again to oldfart for snapping this one.
Somebody yell at me if this violates any 'quality over quantity' guidelines....
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