Bear Mountain rises 1245 feet above the base area. Most of the runs are through gladed trees.
“Drop your stuff,” Bluebird Backcountry co-founder and CEO Jeff Woodward instructed, “grab a volunteer ski pass inside and get ready to break a whole lot of trail.” Wearing reflective goggles, smudged green Patagonia ski pants and a navy blue shell with the Bluebird Backcountry logo etched on the chest, Jeff wasn’t dressed like a typical CEO. But then, Bluebird Backcountry isn’t a typical ski resort.
I was standing in a snowpacked base area in the middle of a gusty meadow in the quiet stretches of northern Colorado. To my left was the ‘lodge’ — a giant heated dome that triples as a ski rental shop (skis, boots, skins, avalanche equipment), retail shop, and registration counter. Next to the lodge I spotted a group of six skiers standing in a circle with beacons out, their heads tilted to the displays. On the other side of the dome, beyond a snow-walled plaza of wind breaks and Adirondack chairs circled around firepits, I watched a pair of balloon pack-toting skinners shuffle up one of the gentle slopes out of the base area.
SPONSORED BY: PATAGONIA
You could say that the concept of Bluebird Backcountry gained popularity before the actual execution had a chance to. The backcountry-only ski area has received an enormous amount of press over the past year and a half, from major outfits like the New York Times, Forbes, Denver Post, and Outside magazine. (Doug also interviewed co-founder Erik Lambert on Totally Deep Podcast last winter.) It’s an attractive concept: A human powered ski area where novices and experienced tourers alike can take intro to backcountry classes, AIARE avalanche courses, go out for a guided day of skiing, or just tour on their own in avalanche controlled, ski patrolled non-groomed terrain.
Last year’s initial test season was short and took place on a nearby ranch with terrain characterized more by snow-coated sage fields than ski runs. But this winter, Bluebird shifted to a different ranch with triple the terrain — they’re currently operating on 1200 acres with the potential for more. And the timing couldn’t be better as ski touring experiences a historical boom with many new users hungry to learn the ways of traveling off piste.
Doug and I arrived at Bluebird on a sunny morning last week to set the course for the area’s inaugural ski mountaineering race, the Bacon Brawl. (Bacon is a theme at the area; there’s even a skin-to warming hut where bacon is always cooking). Bluebird reported a whopping 75 inches of snow over the two weeks prior, which, let’s be honest, probably saved their bacon considering it had been such a dry winter throughout Colorado.
So, what’s it like to hang around a backcountry ski resort? Here are some highlights from our trip.
At the end of a two-mile driveway that feels akin to passing through a snow trench, you arrive at the makeshift base area with a bar, mini cafe, rental and retail shop, and no sign of a ski lift.
Base area from above. All skiers have to pass through the wooden archway to the left where they pass through a beacon checker, get their passes scanned, and show their shovels and probes to a staff person stationed there. Photo: Justin Wilhelm
All skin tracks are established and well marked. Tourers can head out on their own, take part in introduction to backcountry and avalanche courses, or spend a day with a guide.
To set the race course, we got to unopened areas where we found surprisingly cool terrain features above aprons of well-spaced aspen groves.
Among the list of cool terrain features, this steep pillowy line called Hammer Down.
This couloir, dubbed the Cosmic Couloir in the spirit of the race series, offered an adventurous boot pack. It’s part of guided-only terrain that wasn’t open yet.
Cosmic Couloir view from the top. Bluebird has a collection of ski patrollers who mitigate avalanche danger with skier cuts and bootpacking.
Late afternoon light on the northern Colorado mountains. Just out of site is Rabbit Ears peak and the road to Steamboat Springs.
Ski area boundaries are marked like a typical resort would be. Dangerous features, like the giant terrain trap on the north face of Bear Mountain are also roped off.
As for the Bacon Brawl, it was a success. Capped at 75 racers, it sold out within days of opening registration. Racers toured up and down Bear Mountain and a sub peak for a total of 4500 feet of climbing and descending over 10 miles.
There was no awards ceremony after the race but well distanced social time was had in the base area.
I have to admit, when we first pulled into the parking lot I wondered if we really needed to drive three hours to tour at Bluebird. From photos on the website (and my own personal history passing through the area to get from Laramie, Wyoming to actually decent skiing while in grad school), the terrain didn’t look particularly exceptional. Not to mention, northern Colorado is notoriously colder and gustier than the central Rockies we call home and I was dubious toward the potential snow quality.
But the more time we spent there, the more the place grew on me. At Bluebird, the barriers to backcountry skiing — gear, knowledge, community, safety — are stripped away. The entire scene is oriented around accessibility. It not only welcomes new users and takes them from their first skin track to their first avalanche course and beyond, it offers something that can take a while to cultivate in a sport so individually or small-group focused as ski touring: a community atmosphere. Sure, you have to pay for that access, but that fact doesn’t make it less salient or appropriate for the times.
Does having skin tracks and down tracks marked take out some of the adventure of backcountry skiing? Of course it does. But it also offers the chance for new ski tourers to develop foundational knowledge of their gear and their surroundings without having to worry (yet) about terrain management and constant evaluation.
Of course, there is the question of powder, and no, it’s not guaranteed. On our course setting day, we did find soft turns in zones that hadn’t yet been opened to the public. The lines we skied that are open, however, had been tracked up-bordering on bumped up. But maybe that’s not the worst thing.
If we strip away also the notion that backcountry skiing is entirely about getting the powdery goods, it opens up the opportunity for the joy of the tour to be the focus. That is, the journey of walking up mountains and skiing down them in good company regardless of conditions is the destination itself and soft, over the shoulders powder skiing is just a bonus.
Call me an idealist, but as backcountry skiing grows, places like Bluebird might be exactly what the sport needs.
A crew enjoys low-angle powder turns in one of the many aspen groves on the property. Photo: Justin Wilhelm
13 comments
Looks beautiful. I would use a place like this to do training laps, introduce friends to backcountry, and do solo days safely. Just hanging around in a warming yurt would be a pleasure. Too bad I’m on the right-hand coast! I’m not sure that our natural snow quality would support this.
Bolton Valley “Backcountry” is probably the closest thing to this on the east coast, but the of course Bluebird has much better terrain. RASTA and GBA zones offer marked and mapped zones too, but without lodges and fees!
Thanks for the tips! I’ve found that Burnt Mountain, adjacent to Sugarloaf, Mt. Maine is great, too. Its inbounds, ~1800 vert. ft., and has glades that have been opened up a little.
Burnt Mtn is a lift served area of Sugarloaf, usually scraped of moguls unless you are right there after a dump. Not really BackCountry
Ron, agreed. It used to be a 30 minute boot from the highest lift. Now there is a snowcat option. From the base, it’s an 1800 ft climb, with a lot of glade possibilities. Sort of half a**ed side country.
Natural snow quality on the “Right Coast”? I’ve been skiing boot top to maybe 10 inches of fresh powder, touring, and some resort skiing this season. First day of skinning, November 3rd ! Enjoyed 10 inches of fresh today at a resort, where I could find untracked lines in secret stashes into the afternoon.
There is little avy hazard, back East, except for Mt Washington area and Adirondacks. So as long as you avoid hitting trees, and don’t get cliffed out, the skiing is very safe. Get out with friends, and you can find untracked powder, even on the Right Coast.
Thanks to Bluebird for hosting a great event. Rowdy and a true test of fitness and skills. The Cosmic couli boot pack was a leg burner. Gracias to all that helped pull this off. I hope this event can continue.
I have a 4 pack… need to grab some friends and go check it out. At first was skeptical – why pay for whats generally available for free? But its great for new folks and also nice to have the avy mitigation, especially in a year like this. And from what I hear (including this), the vibe is pretty cool. I imagine will be an even more fun hang-out post Covid
I’m glad this is a good fit for some people. Not for me though I don’t think.
Granite Backcountry Alliance in NH has several gladed areas open to the public for use in NHW and western ME From their website
The goal of Granite Backcountry Alliance is to advance the sport of backcountry skiing in New Hampshire and Western Maine by providing low-impact human-powered backcountry skiing opportunities to the public through the creation, improvement and maintenance of ski glades.
Love this line and sentiment: “If we strip away also the notion that backcountry skiing is entirely about getting the powdery goods, it opens up the opportunity for the joy of the tour to be the focus.” This sort of reframing is bound to have immeasurable positive effects on many people’s backcountry experiences.
This seems to be the sentiment this year and I get it but man no I not really agree with it. Sometimes do I get out and are conditions not great? Sure. I love topping out mountains and I love the uphill but I ride the backcountry to ski powder. Even being in Summit and skiing the good ole I-70 corridor I have been most skiing really good snow and almost never crossing others tracks (amazing what going just a bit further will do for you). I haven’t even gone over 30 degrees in steepness. In my 26 days out I have categorized 21 as excellent powder riding.
I feel like the sentiment shouldn’t be able not caring about good snow, it should be about understanding how good riding is under 30 degrees. It is excellent.
Is there really anyone out there that actually thinks backcountry skiing is “entirely about getting the powdery goods?”