Weekend of Pow

You park your snowmobile because the powder is too deep for the sled, and finish up the last miles on foot — at night. Your legs don’t stop pumping because they’re flogged by energy exuded from millions of pounds of recently fallen fluff that will soon know your Ptex. You sleep well that night, and start climbing for turns that next morning. Six or seven laps later you’re back sipping hot cocoa and remembering the day on your LCD, figuring out what would look cool on a computer screen come Monday morning. A few picks below. (All action photos by Jason Caudill.)

Jamie gets a taste.

Der Blogster himself, away from the desk.

Boone, looking for tree bark.

Louie, one turn begets another.

Luke makes an artful curve.

Mrs. WildSnow.

Legs flogged by unceasing pow storms, we continued onward through the night.