I keep saying at every stop that we've gotten the best Powder of the tour so far, and I want you to know that I'm not just doing it for effect. I realize it seems a bit unlikely, but sometimes the truth must be told. This story is about how we drove through the darkness, a giant plume of white swirling behind our VW Touareg, to arrive in Big Sky, Montana to the silence of big fat flakes hitting the roof of The Huntley Lodge.

We managed a few hours sleep, but come 6 a.m. Dax Schieffer, public relations manager at Big Sky, had big plans for us. After a fly-by breakfast and a ride up the Swift Current Express in the dark, we found ourselves standing outside the warm glow of the patrol shack watching about twenty patrollers jam fuses into bombs. It was difficult to feel the excitement of enough explosives to level West Yellowstone, and the honor of an early morning Lone Peak Tram. The early hour, frigid temperature and our overall fatigue was weighing heavy on the experience at that point.

From the East, the sun broke through the night and the clouds to bask Lone Peak in a warm pink glow. Looking up at perfectly arced tram cables disappearing in the haze and at the ghost of the Big Couloir, all the nagging reminders of how early it was and how chilly it was faded quickly. Our ride up the second tram behind the lot of the patrollers was bespectacled by the views of the fresh powder lining the A-Z chutes and bombs exploding along the ridgeline. The moustache of long time patroller Jimbo curled up at the corners and said without words, "You guys picked a good day to come up." Indeed, Jimbo.

Dax led us into Marx's first and after carefully picking through the rocks on the top, a given at Big Sky even during a good snow year, the snowfield opened up before us. Thigh deep fall line turns greeted us for the next 1,500 feet, and at the bottom Gabe tried to put the snow quality into words. "It was perfectly smooth and there was just something about it. It was really light and silky and...I don't know. There was just something about it."

We quickly got back to the tram and got up the third "public" tramcar that morning. With only 30 people ahead of us, we found another 3000 vertical of freshies by coming down Liberty Bowl and ducking into the Bavarian Forest, only our contrails and tracks visible to those above.

After Snowbird last week it was hard to imagine it could get better, but Big Sky delivered in a big way. There's nothing like skiing hard all day at a place like Big Sky when it has great snow, and then retiring to our swank digs in the Huntley Lodge and making good use of the hot tub facilities.

We also made good use of Bozeman for a few days. Gabe and I were both nursing nagging ailments, but our friends in Bozeman assured us, and tortured us, that Bridger Bowl was in the best condition it had been all winter. The PTTP Tour party at the Molly Brown was a raging success with a good turnout of folks and maggots, and tons of prizes awarded from The North Face, Salomon, and Smith Optics. The $1.25 pint of Red Hook Winterhook was hard to beat as well.

We managed to make it out to Norris Hot Springs, just a short drive out of Bozeman, to soak our weary bones in Mother Nature's wonder. It was a needed respite from the mountain. With Jackson just a few days away, we both wanted to be on our game. We'll see if Jackson can one up Big Sky for snow. It seems like a daunting task, but if there's anywhere in North America that can, it's Jackson Hole. See you there.