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Hundred Days



The Mountain Pulse Jackson Hole, Wyoming

The Moose is bustling, filled to capacity with flushed faces toasting to unexpected snowfall that snuck into the Village today. Too tired to cock back my head, I tilt the PBR vertical and take a long, satisfying swig. Amidst the barroom banter, Springsteen is singing “Glory Days.” Bruce, I couldn’t agree with you more… these are glorious days.

With few heading out the gates in the whipping wind, the sidecountry held some of the better turns of this season. Inbounds, groomers were blanketed in fresh snow, affording riders ideal terrain to perfect their form. Others cruised the Stash Park, hitting its unique gambit of jibs, kickers and rails.

“Is this what they mean by ‘dumping?’” a woman down the bar asks, nodding to the slope-side window and making apostrophe signs with her fingers. “No, but it’s getting there,” another responds. Yup, it’s getting there…tomorrow should be good.

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