"A lot of the appeal to us as skiers has to do with the immediacy
of the area," says Sievers. "From either area, you basically start skinning up from the front door."
A series of short, steep bowls that funnel back to the yurts
allow for as many—or as few—runs in as one likes; skiers can
sleep in, ski Breakfast Bowl and be back in time for lunch. And if
conditions aren't conducive to great skiing in one spot, it's easy
to switch to a different aspect without being committed to
a 3,000-foot climb.
I came to the backcountry yurts with a small group with one
commitment of my own: learn to ski.
The morning of our stay, I rise before the sun, feed the wood
stove, and sneak out the front door of the yurt to watch the sun
rise over the Potomac valley.
The afternoon prior we ascended the 11 miles from the valley
floor to the yurts, the low fog and insistent din of the snowmobiles further insulating us from the outside world. In the clarity
of a late-winter morning, I can see Mt. Morrell and its fire lookout above me and miniature homesteads below.
Back at the yurt, after a leisurely breakfast of scrambled eggs
and strong, black camp coffee, our group decides to take an
alpine tour.
Carl shows me how to apply the climbing skins, another modern update of an old technology. Synthetics have replaced the
www.distinctlymontana.com
15
