CASCADE JACKPOT: Pow in late March

Crystal Tracks

If I was a gambling man, I should have played the lottery. By all accounts, we cleaned out the house known as the Central Cascades. Only a few times, if any, during the year do all the elements combine to create those most memorable of days.

Fat flakes and falling temperatures grace low elevations while nearby Seattle chills in the coldest daytime March temperatures on record.

It was a dealer’s choice weekend and we held the right cards. On the first day, Mother Nature spotted us a face card. Perched high atop Crystal Mountain’s High Campbell lift, boot tracks were punched up the iconic Silver King peak. As the cloudy sky lifted, a ray of sunshine welcomed first tracks into Hourglass and Appliances. Finishing up with a lap through an untracked Damn Fine Forest, we knew this had the makings to become “one of those days.”

While we enjoyed the radiant sunshine at Crystal, the Puget Sound Convergence Zone hammered away on Snoqualmie Pass. Cryptic messages confirmed the backcountry traverse remained closed, and with an additional 15 inches piling up, Alpental prepared to serve up an Ace.

The next day, anticipation was off the charts as we impatiently awaited Patrol to drop the rope on the lower traverse. Hand signals exchanged abbreviated words revealing several plans of attack. Cold temperatures coursed through our already jumpy veins. Then, as a sign from Gods came forth, we passed the red velvet rope.

Words are useless to describe the deep, floating sensations we felt as we claimed first tracks down the open Hummocks. Cloaked in contrails of white cold smoke, we raced through some of the lightest as snow billowed over our shoulders. The Unicorn’s intimidating, AK-style rollovers and spines filled us with adrenaline. Choking on powder, Ben completes his straight-line proudly exclaiming, “I didn’t fall. Really, I didn’t fall.”

Twenty minutes of hard work booting up a 300-foot ridge soon became lusting pleasure. Peeling back the curtain, stash 261 hit Blackjack. A moment of breathlessness surrounded us while Matt aired into a plush landscape of billowing chest deep powder. Turn after turn, we cheered each other on, like rock stars playing an encore. After chasing rooster tails through No Fog Bowl, we retreated to the Backcountry Bar to toast the impressive finale, knowing the weekend would join legend.

Ben Cashman, Alpental Ridge

Ben Cashman, Crystal Mountain