Being first on the Ridge Chair at Marmot Basin, in Jasper National Park, after a 70 cm in 72-hour snowfall was easy.  I just opted for a single lap from the top of the Canadian Rockies Express, through Milk Run and off Headwall, before pulling into the empty maze. Taking advantage of being on the first chair was more challenging, as I had to put the first traverse across The Connector and onto Chalet Slope without losing my coveted position.

As soon as my skis hit the unload ramp, I was off. I poled furiously to gain speed; deked around the patrol hut and pointed my skis down the fall line. There was neither enough time to enjoy a few turns along the Wyoming fences, nor to air the ET Cliffs. Still, I managed little speed, but it was just enough to carry me across the flats, up the small rise, and onto the top of Sunset Blvd. We’d ridden four wide on the chair and I could sense my chair-mates closing the gap. Skiers passing overhead stared jealously; they were so far back many of the prime lines would have first tracks before they even unloaded. I kept pushing past Diamond Glades, across the top of Jasper Ave.

With a hoot for joy, I plunged into Grizzly Glades. My first turn was long, to gain speed. On turn two, I tightened the radius and disappeared. It wasn’t a face shot. It was the white room. The snow kept coming, exploding off my chest, funneling into my face and sailing over my head. A dozen turns later, I emerged from the snow cloud, ducked around the Mini Rail Park and rushed back to the lift line.

Any 70 cm storm cycle will draw crowds, but the March 1, 2013, storm that hit Jasper, Alberta, drew an entire town. Even the mayor showed up. It hadn’t snowed this much – depending on your source – since 1998 or 1989.

Even compared to winter 2011-2012, when the northern Rockies experienced record snowfalls, winter 2012-2013 had been a poorly written sequel. Many locals had all but given up on the season. Road cyclists had been popping up in the valley frequently enough that I tuned my quiver of bikes rather than skis.

When this pineapple express storm popped up on the radar, daytime temperatures had been so high that I feared it might rain. As it settled into the region, Environment Canada posted a heavy snowfall advisory. I heard the entire town sigh in relief. It started to snow. The Icefields Parkway closed. It snowed more. The hill opened on Saturday and the skiing was phenomenal. It snowed all day. The hill closed. It snowed harder.

In the morning, Drew McDonald, a member of Marmot Basin’s ski patrol team, sent me a single text message: 29, 37, 70.

To the non-number savvy, that text meant 29 cm had fallen overnight (H, 37 cm had fallen in the previous 24 hours, and 70 cm since the storm began. No wonder there was a traffic jam at the Jasper National Park gate.

Claiming first chair brought good karma, too. Our chair load of friends stuck together for a few laps. We timed the opening of Rock Gardens perfectly and flipped back just as the Eagles East gates dropped.

Again, I found myself pushing off the chair and skating hard for my line. No friends on a powder day. Into gate 3, skiers left. Convex. Dodge the hot tub shaped explosive debris. Go, go, go; don’t let anyone catch up and poach the first turns.

I arced two turns and disappeared back into the white room. ~ JB

Author Discretion: Not only were these images not taken during the epic 70 cm storm, but they aren’t even at Marmot Basin or in Jasper National Park. I was too busy skiing to take photographs.