Kissing Bridge Sucks?
Right now, I am a kissing bridge local. I ride a centered 154 with dull edges for just about everything because there are no steeps or powder, and we don't even have a pipe. Despite the stereotype about Buffalo (the closest city, which is 45 minutes away), I will be lucky to ride real, more than inch deep powder three times this year. I get 50 to 60 days in a season, which isn't a lot to dudes in Tahoe, but when the season gets started in mid to late December and you start to see bare patches in February, it's a decent amount. While spending my winter at this less than stellar hill, I've realized how it can become an asset to keeping my stoke alive, and how much it can teach you about snowboarding. Things that you will learn when riding at a hill with 500 feet of vertical drop a season: Indescribable stoke for any terrain: When it's icy, the runs are 500 feet long, the rails are rusty and the jumps are icy, anywhere is better. On a trip to Killington, Stratton or any other east coast resort with any vert it can be icy, shitty and by most standards, a washout trip. But not for me. The possibility for me to make more than 15 turns in a run will make me more stoked than anything. Sunday River is hardly Mammoth, but a well maintained park in any form is a blessing. Jumps that get raked, salted and otherwise maintained nightly is a concept that most of us mid-east coasters can only dream of - right before we get caught in a rutted landing and rag doll. Stowe isn't really on the same level as say, Mt. Baker, and Tuckerman's Ravine isn't really the same experience as getting a heli drop in AK, but a steep tree run is another thing that a lot of people take for granted. No need to hike: I tried this one earlier this season; there are woods on top of the hill, and they had a foot of pow in them, so I hiked up into them. I strapped in, dropped in and sank almost instantly. It's just not possible to ride out of resort boundaries. The chairlift takes you right to the top, which is flat as hell. You can ride down to the bottom, but if you tried to keep going, you'll hit a road, followed by more flat terrain on the other side. If you try to deviate out past the trails on the left or right, good luck. The trees are so tight it's impossible to find a line down through them, and it's so mellow that you'll just sink. Even if you were riding a 178 set all the way back, you would still be digging yourself out every other turn. No pipe means I won't be hiking that either. And the park is small enough that while I could hike something, I don't loose any momentum riding to the bottom and taking the chair back up. An appreciation for powder incomprehensible to a Whistler local: As I mentioned earlier, powder days are scarce. I ended up getting only 43 days in this year, but I got all of three powder days that have been more than three inches. The one time I've had a helping of powder this year it was tracked in two hours. Not tracked as in “you couldn't get your perfect slasher in”, but tracked as in completely moguled out. Without snowmaking in the trees, you get two to three runs before you've tracked the woods back to the half inch of boilerplate ice with roots sticking out of it. Bragging rights for knowing every line, chute, and hit in the place: In a place like Jackson Hole, it takes more than three seasons to conquer the place. There are miles and miles of terrain, secret stashes, and endless backcountry. I don't need to worry about that. I've shredded all of the woods trails, dropped the only cliff (it's not really a cliff, but close enough,) slashed the chutes that are 30 feet long and know where every lift pole wrap around lip is. So if you're ever at Kissing Bridge, find me. I'll show you all four decent lines. -Ian Browning
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