Skiing through bottomless snow is one of the most exhilarating feelings on Earth. But the deep stuff is becoming more and more elusive. Fortunately, we know 10 spots in North America where you can always float.   

 

By Berit Campion, Bill Gifford, Ben Hewitt, Kristopher Kaiyala, Mike Kessler, Gordy Megroz, Stephanie Pearson, Marc Peruzzi, Frederick Reimers, and Emily Stifler
 

 

Bridger Bowl, Montana

Best for: Hike to ski
Powder days last year: 24
Lift ticket: $45

Locals call it the Bridger Bowl Cloud, a cold front that blows down from Canada and dumps fresh snow. In December 2003 the Cloud dropped 71 inches on Bridger Bowl in a 24-hour period, shattering the world record. “The Bridgers are the first significant range it hits,” says avalanche forecaster Doug Chabot. “So they get all the powder. Lots of it.”

Bridger, which is only a 45-minute drive from the closest airport, in Bozeman, is most famous for the Ridge: an 1,800-foot-vertical, two-mile-long escarpment of chutes and hidden bowls. And, thanks to the new Schlasman’s chairlift, skiers will have access to an additional 311 acres of terrain this season.
On the biggest days, powder seekers can take a few warm-up runs on North Bowl and Bronco while patrol finishes knocking down potential avalanches, then go on foot: first to Bridger Gully, and then to Hidden Gully to rip the ski width–wide 55-degree chute into the Apron’s wide-open powder field. bridgerbowl.com

 

Taos, New Mexico

Best for: High-desert skiing
Powder days last year: 25
Lift Ticket: $66

The misconception that Taos is too far south to get good storms is the reason locals are so fiercely loyal to this laid-back 1,294-acre resort. They know what most of the rest of us don’t: The mountain, tucked into the Sangre de Cristos, is just 25 miles east of Taos and averages 25 feet of snow per year. Plus, its southern Rockies location keeps the I-70 corridor hordes away and the high-desert climate works magic on falling precipitation.

“Our powder falls light and dry, with about 6 to 7 percent moisture content,” says Dave Hahn, a Taos patroller and the only North American to have summited Mount Everest 10 times. “It’s inherently unstable, but that is the champagne we all love to ski, and since we don’t get a lot of traffic, it doesn’t get trashed out.”

With instability comes avalanche control, another reason why skiing Taos after a storm is so much fun. Finding the open runs with the freshest snow is a tactical game; you have to follow the sound of the bombs to figure out which lifts are open and where you’re allowed to hike. And Taos is all about the hiking: On the best days, you can trek the main ridge for 45 minutes to Kachina Peak, an Alaska-like descent. Fortunately, those days come often.

“At Taos it’s very common to be in perfect snow under a perfectly blue sky with a perfectly intense sun,” explains Hahn. “You feel as though you’re getting away with something when you ski such cold, cold snow so close to good margaritas.” skitaos.org

 

Mount Baker, Washington

Best for: Alaska-like chutes in the lower 48
Powder days last year: 24
Lift Ticket: $44

If consistently being number one in North America for average snowfall isn’t enough to convince you that it nukes at Baker, consider that in 1998–’99 the ski area set the world record for measurable snowfall in a year — a title it stole from Mount Rainier — with 1,140 inches. That’s nearly one-sixth the height of the Space Needle. And we’re not talking Cascade Cement here; because of Baker’s northern latitude just south of the Canadian border, the snow is lighter and drier than what falls on other Pacific Northwest resorts.
All that light snow is the reason the late Craig Kelly, who was to snowboarding what Tony Hawk is to skateboarding, called Baker home nearly all his life, despite traveling the globe and riding the world’s great ranges.

Since the early 1980s, Baker has continued to foster a pro (as in “way pro, bro”) snowboard attitude, but the resort has skiing roots, too. The Mount Baker Ski Club first met in 1927, a year after the historic Mount Baker Lodge went up and nearly 30 years before the first chairlift rose on nearby Panorama Dome.

Today, Baker, about an hour’s drive from the nearest airport, in Bellingham, and two hours from Seattle, is still locally owned and operated, and boasts eight modern chairlifts, a glitzy new lodge, 1,500 feet of vertical, and an IMAX-worthy backcountry that rivals that of European megaresorts.

You may think big snow and extreme descents exist only way up north in the Last Frontier, but if you can’t afford a ticket to go heli-skiing in Alaska, Mount Baker is literally and figuratively the closest you can get in the continental U.S. The steep, fluted spines on the Shuksan Arm, located within shouting distance of crumbling glaciers, resemble those of the Chugach Range, near Valdez. Only instead of pumping oil into huge tanker ships, Baker locals pump steady streams of caffeine into their bodies. Which is why you have to get up pretty early in the morning to beat them to fresh tracks. mtbaker.us

 

Jackson Hole, Wyoming

Best for: Extreme terrain
Powder days last year: 53
Lift Ticket: $87

Last year Jackson Hole received at least six inches of snow 53 times, meaning half of the days the resort was open were powder days. All of that fresh piled up to a record 605 inches of snowfall, yet even with those figures, Jackson makes our powder list not so much for the volume of snow it gets (459 inches in an average year) but for the terrain on which it falls. With half its 116 runs rated black diamond or tougher and its array of couloirs, cliff bands, and headwalls stacked on 4,139 vertical feet, Jackson needs a special sort of storm to render the mountain even skiable. “You need a dump that plasters dense snow into all the crags, making Jackson’s harebrained lines possible,” says Jackson Hole Alpine Guides lead guide Eric Henderson, “and then some light snow on top to let you surf right down them.”

Those lines, and that powder — not to mention the thousands of acres of backcountry and heli-skiing — are the reasons so many big-mountain skiers make Jackson their base. The downside of all of that expertise is that the hard-charging season pass–holders can pound new snow into submission in record time, lending credence to the locals’ joke that a Jackson “powder day” is more of a “powder hour.”

But hook up with a guy like Henderson and you’ll get to cut the tram line. With that advantage, a skier could bag eight laps in a day — or 33,000 vertical of powder, an amount comparable to an optimal day heli-skiing in Alaska but at about a fifth of the price. The ultimate route: Corbet’s Couloir, followed by a run down the flanks of  North Colter Ridge. jacksonhole.com

 

Sugarloaf, Maine

Best for: The New England experience
Powder Days last year: 18
Lift Ticket: $72

Thank god for wind. it’s not a force of nature you’d expect skiers to pray for, but at Sugarloaf, Maine’s second-highest summit at 4,237 feet, it makes the difference between a dusting and a powder day.
“One time in April 2007, the frontside trails only had a few inches,” says Sugarloaf patroller Mike Wiltse. “It wasn’t much, but the wind perfectly loaded the backside with huge drifts. We dropped into thigh-deep powder and ripped sweeping GS turns all morning.”

Rarely does a storm sweep through that’s not followed by powerful westerly gusts. Those winds help paste the mountain’s eastern flank and the backside of its summit dome — the region’s only above–tree line skiing — with gobs of luscious powder. Sure, this is New England and not Utah (250 inches is a big season), but when it dumps, Sugarloaf harbors fluffy secrets that easterners usually go West for.

At any hint of snow, skiers grab the first chair on the Spillway double chair and traverse east on the Spillway X-Cut to King Pine Bowl, ducking into tasty tree shots — like Cant Hook Glade, White Nitro, or Blade Glade — along the way. Or they head straight to Cant Dog Glade, an 880-foot birch-and-pine-studded ramp at the resort’s eastern boundary.

Finally, when the icy Maine air gets the best of everyone, locals and New Jersey steak-heads alike flock to the Widowmaker Lounge for Carrabassett Pale Ales. “Like a lot of ’Loafers, I am a loyalist, and that keeps me coming back,” says Wiltse. “There are hardly any lift lines. And the bars and restaurants are all close to one another. Plus, when I ski anywhere else in the East, it always seems like I get to the bottom a lot quicker.” sugarloaf.com

 

Silverton, Colorado

Best for: Getting back to the basics
Powder days last year: 33
Lift Ticket: $49

“Skiing silverton is like heli-skiing with a chairlift,” says big-mountain film star Chris Davenport. “It has steeps, trees, and adventurous terrain that you can’t normally find without flying — all blanketed by copious amounts of powder.”

The phenomenon began in 2000, when Aaron Brill, a 20-something snowboarder with an egalitarian “powder to the people!” business plan, opened Silverton. Located in the remote San Juan mountains of southern Colorado, it was a place the big ski corporations wouldn’t touch because of its experts-only terrain. But Brill saw it as a sort of anti-resort that could offer cheap guided skiing. Instead of high-speed quads and lodges hewn from old-growth timber, Silverton has a base lodge built from plastic tarps and employs one secondhand double chairlift to haul skiers up the hill, from which point skiers can boot-pack or skin to a number of chutes.

Eight years after its premiere the mountain attracts enough hardcore powder hounds to stay afloat. But with its terrain traps, blind cliffs, and often tricky unconsolidated snow (there’s no grooming), the masses stay away. And that’s the best part: The low number of skiers keeps much of the mountain untracked days after a storm. One of several fully trained Silverton guides can lead advanced to expert skiers over 14,000 to 25,000 vertical feet each day, depending on the strength of the group.

Of course, getting to the goods isn’t easy. Denver, the closest major airport, is seven hours away, and the drive through Red Mountain Pass can be a white-knuckle experience. But the quaint old mining town of Silverton is welcoming, with plenty of cheap, rustic lodging. And after six or seven runs of waist-deep powder, you’ll totally forget about the hot tubs and five-star meals at Vail. Besides, there’s keg beer and a belching wood stove somewhere down there, beneath the plastic tarps. silvertonmountain.com

 

Jay Peak, Vermont

Best for: Western skiing in the East
Powder days last year : 30
Lift Ticket: $65

The numbers don’t lie: 2007–2008 season, 417 inches. The previous season, 409 inches. In 2005–’06, 343 inches. And over the epic winter of 2000–2001, 581 inches. Is it Alta? Whistler? Vail? Nope. Those are the snowfall totals from Jay Peak, a craggy, chute-ridden, 3,858-foot summit at the northern tip of Vermont’s Green Mountain range.

So Jay’s got the snow, but does it have the steeps to prevent skiers from double-poling down half of their runs? Consider Tuckerman Chute, a narrow lane of snow that runs directly down the 40-degree fall line. Or Jay’s backcountry trails such as Dip, a generous apron of out-of-bounds-but-still-perfectly-legal glade that drops pre­cipitously to Route 242. “The cool thing about Jay is that there’s incredible skiing for every ability,” says instructor John Witherspoon. “I can take an intermediate-level skier to places he just can’t believe.”

Jay Peak, a four-hour drive from Boston and five from New York, has always been a throwback to the classic ski experience. But in June ’08 a group of investors purchased it — and began dumping $100 million into its infrastructure. If you’re coming for the nightlife, wait a few years. If you want the powder, get there now, before everyone else does. jaypeakresort.com

 

Powder Mountain, Utah

Best for: Having the slopes to yourself
Powder days last year : 40
Lift Ticket: $56

About an hour north of Salt Lake City is a secret stash of powder that the locals would rather you not know about. When a storm hits, Little Cottonwood Canyon’s Snowbird and Alta resorts are completely tracked out an hour after the lifts open, but there’s still plenty of fresh snow to be had at Powder Mountain, even days after it dumps. “We’re still not on the mainline map,” says Rod Kelly, the mountain’s operation manager. “We’re well-known to the Utah backcountry and telemark guys, but the masses haven’t really found their way here yet, so the mountain never really gets skied out.”

Add to that the fact that the entire mountain seems as if it’s hermetically sealed under a glass bubble that prevents sun and wind from quickly turning the snow into mashed potatoes. “A high percentage of our best runs are protected,” says Kelly. “They’re north facing and in the trees. Plus, snow blown off the top of the ridges fills in places that may have been tracked.”

When a front rolls in (as they often do; Powder gets nailed with an average of 500 inches of snow each year), the most committed snow junkies head straight for Powder Country, 1,200 acres and 1,800 vertical feet that eventually deliver skiers onto the resort’s access road. From there they can grab a shuttle back to the mountain and hit the trails off Hidden Lake lift, or make their way to Lightning Ridge for a $12 cat ride. From the drop-off, skiers can either jump right into 800 acres of steep, gladed chutes or hike 30 minutes up James Peak for an additional 300 feet of vertical. “When people ski here they become adventurous,” says Kelly. “By the end of the day they’re exhausted.” powdermountain.com

 

Ruby Mountains, Nevada

Best for: Everyman’s heli-skiing
Powder days last year: 85
Cost: $1,325 per person

Thirty some years ago Joe Royer was driving back and forth across the Great Basin of Nevada on I-80, en route between his job as a ski patrolman at Snowbird and his home in Marin County, when the knife ridge of the Ruby Range caught his eye. “I’d look over and say, Oh, God, there’s gotta be some skiing up there,” he remembers. He was right.

Rising up out of the sagebrush like a set of wayward Tetons, the Rubies were (and still are) known mainly for deer hunting. Then, in 1976, Ruby Mountains Heli-Skiing was born. Operated out of Royer’s high-luxe log ranch in Lamoille, it’s now one of the oldest heli-ski operations in the United States. (And probably the only one whose legal waiver covers the possibility that a guest might get charged by a bull.)

What keeps skiers coming back (more than half the clients are repeaters) is Utah-like powder and the Rubies’ perfect pitch. They’re steep but not too steep, meaning intermediates to pros will enjoy the terrain. “Everybody thinks you have to be an expert to go heli-skiing,” says Royer. “It’s really one of the myths.”
Clients split up into groups of four, each with a guide, and roam the Rubies’ 200,000 skiable acres of glades, bowls, and Comeline, a 2,200-vertical-foot classic. helicopterskiing.com

 

Revelstoke, British Columbia

Best for: Heli-, cat-, and lift skiing
Powder days last year: 73
Lift Ticket: $63

A longtime haven for backcountry skiers, Revelstoke Mountain finally opened its first resort last season and is fast becoming the most sought-after destination for those in search of a guaranteed powder vacation. How does a mountain make that kind of promise? The $1 billion resort employs helicopters, cats, and chairlifts to take skiers to stashes throughout the Selkirk range’s longest skiable vertical in North America (5,620 feet).

Although all that mechanical goodness is hard to get to (it’s a flight to Calgary, there’s a 45-minute trip on a prop plane, and a five-minute drive to the mountain), the first day will make you happy you made the journey. “What I like most is the deep, dry ‘hero’ snow,” says Anthony Bonello, editor of Biglines.com. “If it isn’t snowing, the storm’s gone out for a cup of tea and will be back shortly.”

Salute the steeps from the Separate Reality gondola, then ski over to the Stoke chair. Say a prayer as you pass the North Bowl’s tiny cliff area signs en route to the new Greely area to christen Discipline and Powder Assault, a pair of brand-new runs that are two of the longest and steepest chutes on the mountain. Then cruise down on Bacon & Eggs to the “Ripper” high-speed quad.

The next day cat-ski on Mount Mackenzie or book a heli-expedition with RMR’s Selkirk Tangiers. “We’re known for huge alpine bowls and world-class tree skiing,” says guide Jeff Honig. “And we’ll make sure you get it.” revelstokemountainresort.com