
Turns where you find them: alley light and tempting vertical.
It was the best of times, and the worst of times. After several slow-to-fill-in seasons here in Western Colorado, we were getting dumped on by a storm system that was causing locals to ask each other when they remembered having this much snow. At the same time, so much snow accumulating so quickly made for sketchy backcountry conditions, and frequent highway closures. Concurrently, my girlfriend & I had embarked on a home renovation project occupying much of our time. As the snow in our backyard began to fill in the garden beds and pile up at the edges of the walkways, I began to wonder what adventures might lie close to home.
Last year, an anomalous October storm blanketed our town with enough snow to open up the possibilities of skiing backyard lines I had never considered before. When this year’s bounty arrived, I was better prepared to take advantage of the opportunities that lay so close at hand.
Poking around the neighborhood on leather boots and climbing scale tele skis doesn’t carry the consequences of backcountry skiing, but delivers on the thrill of recognizing and capitalizing on a minimal window of opportunity.
My first turns on the wild snow of my neighborhood were off a bike path on an old irrigation ditch, ducking through charred Russian olive groves to curtsy a few turns through the gently sloping terrain. Barely enough to get three turns in before flattening out at the bottom of the draw, then a quick shuffle to set a shallow angle skin track, and drop in again, farming what was once a grazing meadow for hippie dip turns.

Ropes aside, which were and remain duckable, alleys can offer a blank canvas.
Driving through town on errands the next day, I noticed a series of nearby alleys transformed into gently sloping couloirs. Doing a quick calculation of the tapering storm and forecast of rising temperatures, I realized today was likely my only chance to ski them. Returning home, I stepped into my Wal-Mart insulated bibs, laced up my leather boots, shouldered my skis, and set out walking down our neighborhood street in search of first descents.
Dropping in from a snow-covered dirt mound on an adjacent vacant lot gave me just enough speed to cruise down the first alley and remember how thin the margin of control is on leather boots and wire bindings. It is only my ego, and not my life, at risk, fumbling around in an alley rather than tomahawking down a remote couloir.

First tracks, no matter where, are always fine.
Awkward though my turns may be, there are enough moments of grace to motivate me to hike back up the two blocks for more.
On the way up, I couldn’t help but notice all the bonus “almost filled in” side hits, making me wish for another foot of snow and my powder skis. Such is the nature of the human condition – “Contentment is a fleeting thing, easily slayed by yearning.”
The second lap was a little smoother, not as panicked; a bit better anticipation of what the alley turns demand, and then on to the next alley.
Alley #2 was a bit steeper, complete with wire rope boundary, adding to the illicit “ducking the ropes” feel. Except there is a convenient pedestrian access slot, so I suppose it’s really not that illegal.
The drop is just steep enough to generate some useful speed on my AT setup, borderline terrifying on my old school gear. I take a few moments to visualize the first turn; a drop-knee left-hander in front of the electrical box, certain that if I can hold everything together for that first turn, I can handle the rest. Voila! The slope is just right, my speed is just right, the knee drops just right, and I come sailing through, low as schooner running before the wind, and make my way tacking down the alley, dodging the reefs of fences and black rocks of manhole covers.
I draw up short at port and disembark from my twin wooden ships to hoof my way back up for one more round.

And just on the outskirts of town, a three or four turn drop will do.
Starting from the other side this time, to close out the loop I started, I’m more confident from the preceding successful round: my imagery stronger, my self-talk more positive, I drop in and “slash” next to the wooden fence, and follow the wave up to the parking lot of the condo, surfing against the fence again, dodging the manhole cover that forces my turn a little tighter to exit early above it, towards the terraced landings of the down alley condo.
One more alley beyond may hold promise, but on the premise of “two more & skip the last,” I decide to leave the last unexplored and shoulder my skis to walk four blocks back home.
9 comments
this article made me smile! so many times growing up I tried to ski the small patches of snow here and there to get my ‘fix’. the article was nice change of pace from recent article of wonderful big mountain experiences.
My own version is my front yard. 4 good turns to the riverside on a slope that averages 37 degrees. Luckily, avalanche conditions are usually safe. I try to get-er done at least once a season. Plus there is the “Rio Vista Traverse” that encompasses my yard, my neighbors, and NW facing slot on another neighbors, totaling 300′ of vertical! https://photos.app.goo.gl/38XFY8yxQVLE7zzK7
Just outside Victoria, coastal Canada, we live in a rural area. Ours is a long cut-du-sac neighbourhood. Very low traffic, roads are about 20 feet wide.
Each winter, we get some snow, but it’s usually heavy stuff.
Last winter, we got an overnight fluffy dump of about 14″.
Use it or lose it — NOW, in the morn. Later in the day it’s liable to be heavy snow.
I skinned up and climbed a nearby road-hill. Def mellow grade.
Dang, someone got first tracks – a truck guy (perhaps a truck gal) went up, looped, and came back down in his own tracks.
So, I skinned my way, within his up-track. Skied 3 runs (about the length of a soccer pitch). Wedel turns. One set to the left of the truck tracks, one to the right, and the last between the truck tracks. Slid home for coffee. Great start to the day.
My previous house was underground. I could get six turns off the roof. You can’t ski more locally than that. If there were snow enough, I’d do a lot of exploring in the nearby ups and downs on skinny skis with patterned bases. This touring had its charms.
I still go out after a fresh snowfall to tour on the old Piedra Stock Driveway near my home. If it’s a mellow tour you want, that’s it.
Great to hear about other backyard skiing adventures! Aside from the thrill of recognizing a limited window of opportunity, I like how it replicates the quick convenience of biking during summer, rather than occupying the majority of the day like most ski tours.
and a genre is born…
Ha! So fun to read these backyard, front yard, neighborhood ski outings. We live next door to Chatfield SP, and we often hurry over after an adequate dump for a neighborhood tour including a few fun downhills we have spotted.
Very cool, but not a “new” genre. This was 10 years ago, before JP died in an avy. Classic skiing to a classic LCD Soundsystem song!
https://vimeo.com/32863936
Certainly not claiming to have invented the street king genre; my skills consider mainly of staying upright. Was definitely wishing for some JP Auclair skills when I was out there!
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