January 2020

You never know when the next perfect powder day will come, so until then, pick up Powder Magazine for your ski runs. From dissecting the steepest, most technical first descents, to lofting big air, Powder transports you with award-winning photography and engaging articles that will take you to the top of the mountain.

United States
American Media Operations, Inc
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6 Issues

in this issue

2 min.
be here now

IF I COULD BE ANYWHERE RIGHT NOW, I would be skiing. I would not be slouched over my desk, checking my email, apologizing “for the delayed response.” Again. Or be in a meeting pretending to take notes, or on a conference call that keeps cutting out. I would be in the parking lot, early, ahead of the traffic, before many other skiers get out of bed. I would put on my boots, soft and warm from the car heater on the drive up. I’d leave my phone in the car, put a String Cheese and a bag of Sour Patch Kids in my pocket, shoulder my skis and listen to the squeak of new snow under my boots as I walked toward the mountain, collecting snowflakes in my hood. If I could…

4 min.

Letter of the Month ALL IN THE FAMILY Your intro, “One of Them,” (48.1) brought a tear to my eye and pride to my heart. I was not born “one of them.” But at 18, I went out to become “one of them” without really knowing that was what I was doing or becoming. After ten-plus years of a ski bum lifestyle, it was time to give life to little skiers. Skiing with my babies in my belly, I dreamed of raising skiers, of creating children who are and who love being “one of them.” On skis at 15 months old, diapers in their snowsuits, breast milk in the lodge, they were skiing the first winter they were able to stand. They now wear their ski helmets in the house and stare out…

3 min.
oh fine, we’ll ride the lift

“F— THAT.” That was my response back in 2014 when I heard Taos Ski Valley was installing a lift up the iconic, 12,450-foot Kachina Peak. Kachina to me, and to many others who love Taos, was a special place only accessible by a hard-fought, 40-minute inbounds hike. It was a place where fresh snow stuck around and most noobs refused to go. We feared that if everyone got a free ride up, the majesty would disappear. And it did, at least at first. Main Street, the easiest way down, immediately turned into a mogul field. People who did not belong up there got stuck and had to be rescued. The summit, which is dotted with prayer flags, some days was packed tighter than two coats of paint. The whole thing felt…

4 min.
hard to come by

ONE OF THE LONGEST tenured photographers in Powder history, Wade McKoy has been shooting skiing for 45 years. In the 1970s and ’80s, he was among the first to document the nascent big mountain ski culture growing in the ski bum petri dish of Jackson Hole. Over the years he has photographed such legendary figures as Doug Coombs, Mark Newcomb, Stephen Koch, Rick Armstrong, and Jason Tattersall. A native of the Deep South, McKoy, 68, didn’t learn to ski until after college, when he moved to Jackson from Mississippi in 1974. He remembers the exact date and time he carved his very first turn, on his 250th day of skiing. But among his proudest achievements is the longevity and success of Jackson Hole Skier, an annual ski magazine he and his…

2 min.
women, sign up now for our new women’s ski clinics for women!

Storm Cycles for Ladies: Code red! It dumped a foot overnight and then Aunt Flo showed up unannounced. Learn and practice techniques to shred while you shed your uterine lining! (Not unlike the techniques you use every month to carry on with your life and responsibilities despite ravenous pain, emotional unpredictability, and bloodshed.) Participants must be menstruating. Complimentary Women’s Ski Touring: Everyone knows women make only 82 cents for every dollar earned by men, resulting in a gender wage gap of nearly 20 percent—or as high as 54 percent for minority women. To compensate, we’re offering complimentary ski touring (an already free activity) at no cost to our female skiers! Meet at the Express Lift on Mondays and Fridays at 10:30 a.m.—smack dab in the middle of the work day. (Childcare not included.) Companion…

3 min.
just don’t ski

WE HAD NO CONTEXT, no anchor, nothing to root us. Just white. As my wife drove toward the top of Cumbres Pass, where the Sangre de Cristos meet the San Juans in southern Colorado, we came to a complete stop in the middle of the road. Driving in complete white-out—the snow and wind relentlessly hammering Highway 17—we felt unmoored. We kept going, but then, somehow, the car ended up in the snowbank on the shoulder. My wife put it in reverse and thereafter trended to the opposite lane of traffic, which had been plowed earlier in the morning. I really hoped another car wouldn’t come. If we felt lost on a state highway, was it a good idea to skin five miles in the thick of a blizzard to a yurt…