Featured Photo: My “last tracks” to the right of center, Edelweiss Bowl, Teton Pass, Wyoming 2014
The only sound is the hiss of my skis moving in the deep ski track. Week sunlight filters through giant Ponderosa pines. Light gusts of wind pitch snow crystals into the air sparkling against the blue sky. I am following a track made by two experienced skiers made earlier this morning. After 32 inches of snow over the last six days, the avalanche danger is rated high. The track avoids avalanche exposure as it snakes its way up 1000 vertical feet to the top of Edelweiss bowl on Teton pass. It is January 11, 2024.
At the top of the bowl, I stop to transition to downhill mode. Patches of sunlight drift across the winter landscape. I am alone on the summit; the last day of my ski trip to Jackson, Wyoming. Stripping the climbing skins off the bottom of my skis gives time to reflect. I’m in a melancholy mood. It has been a wonderful trip, but I am feeling my age: two months shy of my 70th birthday. Three days earlier my son Charlie, his buddy Aiden and I skied Maverick, a 3000 foot vertical backcountry ski run in Grand Teton National Park. I was slow on the climb, kept up on the downhill run, and fell behind on the ski out the flats. Back at the car, I said to my son Charlie, “There’s a day coming when you won’t want to wait for me anymore.”
Charlie gave me a wry grin and said, “Not yet.”
Photo: Charlie Markusen skiing Mavericks, Grand Teton National Park, WY 2014
I skied two days with my youngest son, Tripp in the backcountry. With the low snowpack the lower elevation exits were thick with hazards of trees, deadfall and hidden rocks. He exceeded my expectations in both physical ability and attitude.
He and his buddy left for home this morning. Worried about me skiing alone, he asked me to check in with my Garmin and send a message when skiing and back at the car. His text said, “I know completely that you know what you’re doing and I’d follow you anywhere no matter what, but it would just make us all (sibs and I) feel safe and sound. We need you around.”
Photo: Tripp Markusen summit of 25 Short, Grand Teton National Park, WY 2014
Despite all the stupid things I’ve done in my life, mistakes made and bad decisions; I have done one thing right: raised wonderful kids.
Setting my bindings to downhill mode, I clip in and switch my boots from walk to ski. Standing up I complete my mental checklist: pant and jacket zipped; hat, gloves and googles in place. I ski to the edge and survey the slope—one track to my right and three on the other side of the bowl. There are no signs of instability or avalanche danger. Two skiers are on the summit and headed my way. Time to go. I make a ski cut to check for cracking. Nothing. Another ski cut and I’m turning and floating in bottomless powder.
Climbing back to the car, the clouds clear and I see my tracks… last tracks for today, maybe for the year, but not forever. I’ll be back.
Photo: Steve Markusen skiing Mavericks, Grand Teton National Park, WY 2014. Credit: Charlie Markusen
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