Your Own Private Utah

And you all thought I was just obsessed because Ogden is my home town and Powder Mt. is MY mountain. (Currently taking reservations to MY mountain.)

Peak Conditions
Sleek or Scruffy Slopes? In Utah, Take Your Pick.

By William Triplett
Special to The Washington Post
Sunday, November 30, 2008; P01

You don't often see ski resorts reflecting a town's dueling cultural influences, especially in Utah, which was founded almost exclusively by people of like minds and hearts.

But Mormon pioneers were not alone in settling Ogden, 35 miles north of Salt Lake City. Outsiders had an equal, and a most unwelcome, hand in the process.

Therein lies a tale of how two approaches to skiing can coexist in one area, occasionally a little uneasily but pretty much always to the benefit of every skier, from bunny-slopers to black-diamond demons and beyond.

The resorts of Snowbasin and Powder Mountain (east and northeast of Ogden, respectively) are about 30 minutes by car from each other. Both offer a rich variety of terrain: bowls, chutes, glades, groomers and more.

Apart from that, however, the two might as well be in different states, if not countries. It has much to do with Ogden's unorthodox and lurid history, traces of which are still evident. Things are far quieter these days, but local lore has it that mobster Al Capone once said Ogden was too wild for his taste.

* * *

Call Snowbasin an exercise in splendor. I'm a fan of big, wide, empty groomers that lope, snake and dip endlessly amid sweeping vistas and then deliver you to a mostly line-free chairlift. With 113 trails chiseled into the sides of six adjoining peaks, Snowbasin had plenty of these when I was there last Presidents' Day weekend. That's right: One of the most popular ski holidays, and I never saw more than maybe a dozen people at any lift.

At 2,800 acres, the amount of skiable terrain is respectable, though not huge. (Park City Mountain Resort, in the not-too-distant Wasatch Range, has 3,300 acres.) The lack of crowds probably has more to do with the fact that Ogden just doesn't have the cachet of Park City, and I suspect Ogden's regulars hope it never does.

Snowbasin's views can be breathtaking, particularly when you pause after coming off the tram to Allen's Peak (the second highest, at 9,500 feet). Looking off the back end, you can survey Ogden laid out below; off different vectors, you can catch glimpses of Nevada, Idaho and Wyoming in the distance.

Experts and would-be racers gravitate to the top of Allen's Peak mostly for two reasons: First, that was the starting point of the 2002 Winter Olympics downhill events; second, ungroomed, deep-powder trails with nearly 3,000 feet of vertical are accessible.

Only double black diamonds, the real expert trails, run from the top of Allen's Peak, but about a quarter of the way down you can gently carve your way onto a big blue (or intermediate) cruising trail that lets you glide to the multiple intermediate trails of Mount Ogden, the next peak over. Or stay on the diamonds and dive-bomb your way down to the base of the resort. The toughest trail I like is a single black diamond, which is why, after a highly embarrassing start on the men's downhill, I set sail for Mount Ogden.

Despite its abundance of snow and trails, what distinguishes Snowbasin is the Euro-style grandeur of its amenities and the state-of-the-art efficiency of its on-mountain equipment. The latest lift system whisks you to the tops of Snowbasin's peaks, and high-powered snowmaking machinery provides amply when storms, on rare occasion, fail to. Restaurants sport polished marble and wood decor, and Earl's Lodge, at the base, boasts elegant stone fireplaces and Venetian glass chandeliers.

Don't bother looking for such luxury at Powder Mountain. Don't even look for snowmaking gear. Or more than one high-speed lift. Forget about radicchio in your salad. Forget about a salad. (Snowbunny suggests the french fries and hot chocolate at the top of Hidden Lake.)
Powder Mountain is old school: You come for the plentiful snow dumped only by clouds over 5,500 acres of skiable terrain with 114 trails. You can lunch at any of four eateries -- on such no-frills fare as grilled sandwiches and chili. Indeed, compared with Snowbasin, Powder Mountain is a picture of austere localism. But it has a unique beauty and lives up to its name.

Topping at 8,900 feet, Powder Mountain is not as high as Snowbasin but is more spread out, and its trails seem to go on forever. With its Lightning Ridge Snowcat ($12 gets you a ride up to otherwise inaccessible and usually virgin terrain) and special tours for expert skiers who thrive on occasionally knee-deep powder (Snowcat Powder Safari, $300 per person with guide and lunch), this place draws the hard-core. But it also has more beginners' trails than Snowbasin, and its plentiful intermediate slopes cut through spectacularly wooded areas and powder bowls.

Again, it was a holiday week, yet for almost the entire time I spent on Powder Mountain, it could have been a normal Monday. Almost every trail I hit had untouched snow. When I stopped I could hear the softest of breezes in the trees. Maybe I had drunk the Kool-Aid, but there was often a real feeling of skiing the wilderness. I could see why Skiing Magazine not too long ago described Powder Mountain as "Your Own Private Utah."* * *

Why such a stark contrast? (Because Powder Mt. hasn't SOLD OUT TO EARL HOLDING. -sorry had to get it out.)

This relatively small patch of land would probably have been the exclusive province of Mormon settlers in the 19th century had it not been for the transcontinental railroad, which was completed just outside Ogden in 1869. With the railroad came workers from across the country, some even from abroad, who established camp on the edge of town.

And with the workers came drinking, gambling and prostitution. Not to mention brawling, bootlegging and drug dealing.

Mormon leaders eventually succeeded in shutting down the tent city, but its denizens moved into downtown Ogden, along 25th Street, which is near the major train station that was built to accommodate the transcontinental railroad and another line that passed through the area.

Ogden became the crossroads of the West. Passengers, usually rich, traveling between San Francisco and Chicago often stopped to visit.

To accommodate those outsiders, pricey hotels, restaurants, shops and other establishments proliferated. The houses of far less repute were eventually closed around the time of Prohibition, but the deluxe trappings and well-heeled visitors continued to be central to Ogden.

Locals kept to themselves.

Today, the train station is more museum than anything else, and much of downtown Ogden looks a lot like any other simple Western town: Banks and businesses line the streets; the skyline is relatively low and square. Family-style dining abounds.

The once rough part of town, 25th Street, is now called Historic 25th Street. The frontier-style architecture remains; mountains rise dramatically in the distance, adding to the Old West atmosphere.

The illicit trades may be gone, but an outsider joie de vivre still prevails, mainly in the form of boutiques, restaurants and bars. My favorite was the City Club, a two-story watering hole that boasts an amazing collection of Beatles memorabilia. Obscure posters, photographs and prints of the Fab Four adorn nearly every inch of wall space along with all the usual LP covers and buttons. Throw in at least one autographed guitar (by Paul), Beatles wigs and, of course, Beatles music, and you feel as though you're in a time warp with a cool backbeat.

One day when I decided to give the skis a rest, I had what I like to think of as a quintessential Ogden experience. It started with an afternoon drive outside town, amid blocks of modest single-family homes and then into open, rolling, snow-covered countryside. Before heading back into town, I stopped in the Shooting Star Saloon, a holdover from Ogden's unruly past. Built in 1879, it's said to be the area's oldest joint, and it looks it: scarred, stained wood paneling, stuffed elk and moose and even a St. Bernard on the walls.

Back in town, I checked out the Salomon Center, a mega-sports-entertainment-plex for families. Want to surf in winter? You can at the center's indoor facility. Teenagers seemed to love it. Maybe you'd like to check out the feeling of anti-gravity: Step inside the wind tunnel and float for a couple of minutes.

A few blocks away stands Peery's Egyptian Theater, built in 1924 in the image of Grauman's Egyptian Theater in Hollywood, in authentic Egyptian Revival style. Despite a sometimes troubled history, Peery's is still operating, and at a high level. I caught an extraordinary performance that evening of the internationally renowned Paco Peña Flamenco Dance Company, which was on a U.S. tour.

Then I went to the City Club, where per state law I had to become a "member" in order to drink alcohol. The bartender sponsored me. Or was it the guy next to me?

Can't recall. I was too busy wondering what kind of crowd a Beatles concert would have drawn in Ogden.

Q & A with Caspar Weinberger

Q: How many books does it take to write a 30 page paper on the National Security Council?
A: Many

The Hidden-Hand Presidency - Eisenhower as a Leader
Henry Kissinger - Doctor of Diplomacy,
American Foreign Policy
For the Record - Donald Regan
In the Arena - Weinberger
Understanding central America
Dutch - A Memoir of Ronald Reagan
Military Law 2nd Edition
Taking the Stand - Testimony of Oliver North
The Tower Commission Report
Nixon - The Rise of an American Politican
Richard Nixon - In the Arena
Nixon and Kissinger - Partners in Power
Colin Powell - My American Journey

Thanksgiving

Reason #1 I love Thanksgiving - cranberries.

It's called Democracy - get over it

I am a Democrat from Utah.

This means that I have lost my fair share of elections - arguably more than my fair share. I have been part of elections which were exercises in futility. State House races, US Senate races, races for governor etc. Let me tell you, it's been fun.

I was in Utah at my house in 2000 when they called Florida for Gore. I then got in my car and drove to Salt Lake. That drive will live in infamy, because somehow by the time I got to SLC Florida had switched to Bush. And everyone knows the name of the tune which followed.

I was in SIOUX FALLS SOUTH DAKOTA in 2004 (and had been there for 36 days knocking on doors). Let me tell you how FUN it is to have a man like Tom Daschle (the Majority Leader of the US Senate) get beaten by a guy like, insert your favorite expletive here-ing, Thune.

So you will have to forgive me if I am somewhat less than sympathetic to all of my friends, oh my favorite republicans and conservatives, who are having an existential crisis now that a democrat, no less a smart, articulate, educated, organized guy, gets elected to be the President.

'Oh, he will ruin the country, he will eliminate the military and we will lose in Iraq and the terrorists will win, he will make us all hug trees and force all married people to add a third person to their marriage - preferably someone gay.' SERIOUSLY PEOPLE.

Obama is not going to ruin the country - even if he tried.
TRUST ME - George W. Bush tried - and only half succeeded.

AND they are called elections. If you really are that unhappy, take more people with you to vote next time.

I have no idea what this means.

Movie Reviews

Maybe when I finish my masters degree I can move past undergrad blogging.

Word Association - National Security Edition

National Security Council
National Security Advisor
Condi Rice
Forbidden Rice
China
Japan
South Korea
North Korea
Axis of Evil
Iran
Iraq
CENTCOM
Secretary of Defense
Sec of State
National Security Advisor
National Security Council

A food review by a non-foodie

The Woodberry Kitchen is GREAT.

That is all. Thank you very much.

Transition

Man, when they say 'transition' they really mean it.

This whole city is on its head.

All the Republicans are losing their jobs, (no nasty comments now, everyone has to provide for their families. I know elections have consequences, but what goes around comes around, so be nice, soon enough it will be your head on the block) R lobbyists are getting thrown out on their tushes for no other reason than they are elephants (and now going along with that consequence thing - completely and totally irrelevant - eek!!!), every R Hill staffer I know who still has a job is doing hourly alms down at the vending machine.

Dingell got ousted from his Chairmanship in the most unholy of ways. (So much for playing nice and getting along.) The Ds who have jobs all want different jobs. We are moving offices and may be changing subcommittee assignments.

Oh it's just way too much FUN.

Funny, funny, funny.

I'm not even sure who this person is, but it is a friend of a friend and MAN is s/he funny. Take a look. And even MORE funny if you are of 'The Faith'.

My Religious Blog

O

I love, love, love, the cover of this Friday's New Yorker.

The difference between the European Council and the Council of Europe?

Did you know...
...that in order to be on the European Commission (as a Commissioner / EUcrat)you must swear allegiance to the European Union. This means that even though you are sent to the EC from your home country, if you are caught helping your country directly you are nixed.

APPARENTLY, there was a scandal a few years ago and all the Commissioners resigned. I guess the Commissioner from France was funneling money to her dentist. How in the world did I miss this?

You just learn something new every day now don't you?!?

BBC News - EU Scandal of the day, thusly.

I heart Grandma Bunny

Mr. Snowbunny's grandma had a stroke two days ago. She is really old and not doing all that well. Not so good. :(

She is doing a little better today and can say a few words. When presented with oatmeal this morning for breakfast she took one look and said, 'SHIT'.

Apparently Grandma Bunny doesn't care for oatmeal.

1.3 billion pictures of China

I'm listening to NPR stories about Iran and its neighbors finding background for my presentation in my Geostrategy class... such a wonderful time to upload pictures from China.

Election Day

I voted this morning.

It was a really neat experience. The guy in front of me was probably 75 years old, spoke broken English and needed an explanation on how to fill out the ballot. But he was there. He wanted to vote. I got a little choked up when I actually drew my little connecting line. I am a softie.

It reminded me of Denver, waiting in line to get into Bronco's stadium. It was almost 3 hours of security. There were people with walkers and canes who were going to wait for as long as possible to see Obama speak. That speech was worth every minute of that security line.

Peaceful transition is something Americans take for granted. I don't even really appreciate how magical it is to have an election, allow people to share their opinion and then have their opinion matter. I know, I know, it doesn't always work perfectly, but it works and it's pretty amazing.

I gave my Froggy dinner companions a tour of the Capitol during lunch today. It it a 'very special day' they kept saying to me. 'Yes, yes.' I responded. We were talking about America and the election and how important it is and then we walked into the dome. They stopped talking and looked up. It was a priceless moment. They were amazed like everyone who walks into the Capitol. It is more than just a building, it is a belief that all people matter and that we can all be better.

Tomorrow is a new day and I hope it will be a very good day - for everyone.

'You must be the change you wish to see in the world.' ~ Gandhi

Day 4

I had a dinner last night at the Darlington House with a lovely group of a dozen folks including 3 members of the French Assembly. It gave me the opportunity to practice my very limited French, oui?

It was a beautiful dinner with 6 courses (including a cheese course - always a good thing). The only problem is that it took everything I had to stay awake. Literally, I was falling asleep from the time they offered me the sweetbread appetizer (I passed - I'm not that much of a Francophile) to the pumpkin cheesecake (tasty, but not as good as Mutti's recipe).

Got home a little before midnight and actually slept through the night for the first time in 4 days. Vive la France.

Alive, but not awake.

Well, I'm back from China. It was a great trip.

I learned as much from the Chinese as one can from a passive-aggressive Communist country and took a few hundred pictures.

If I can stay awake for more than 4 hours at a time I'll post them and write a missive.