We got there before dark and spun a few laps on the two-seater up top.
The terrain, which I hadnt seen yet because it was my first time at Skibowl, was exciting.
Fall line from the top chair was a series of cliffs, narrow rock slots, and sparse trees.
You head skiers right, and a wide-open bowl follows a cliff hip.
Small side hits peppered themselves throughout, meaning whichever route you ultimately chose, youd be entertained.
But the light doesnt last forever.
As gray bird skies turned black, lift tower light fixtures flicked on, humming with age.
Im not sure if the lighter sparked, but the beers didnt seem to run out.
We hot-lapped til our legs burned.
Making laps in the dark is inverse to the standard ski day routine.
Usually, you rise at the ass crack of dawn, slam some coffee, and hit the road.
In the lot, everyone boots up, chattering excitedly about where to ski and what to do.
Slipping off a bright groomer and entering the void is like peeking behind the curtains.
The din of churning chairlifts quiets, and everything sits still.
The trees and snow are oddly dead.
Youre there during their downtime before the curtain draws back up.
Back in the artificial light, its fast and uninhibited.
You know how conversations seem to become more intense the later in the day it gets?
I like to think nightskiings the same way.
Or that enormous transfer is finally looking just right for a high-speed gap.
This looseness may or may not be encouraged by another factor – inebriation.
To some on NS, skiing and drinking are non-negotiable; you cant have one without the other.
While Ill crack a beer on the hill here and there, its not routine.
Night skiing is a different ballgame, though.
Its sharp, distinctive, and comforting despite its hectic nature, as potent as neat whiskey.
Every buzz has its crash, and when the dulling hits, its time to take a break.
Thankfully, the comforts of a warm lodge are undisputed.
A night ski only elevates these recuperation periods, and contrast is the key.
Outside: cold, dark, windy.
Inside: toasty, cozy, inviting.
The more striking the conditions outside, the better it feels to take a load off inside.
At Skibowl, we eventually hit this burnout point.
The wind was too much, the snow biting, and one friend was inexplicably skiing without gloves.
Condensation obscured the ripping storm outside.
Id visit that lodge again and again in memory.
Just dont start the next day with a Four Loko.
