It's a Bird... It's a Plane... It's a Skier?
The only audible sound was the loud whirring of the blades that spun rapidly above us. I looked out of the edge of the helicopter to see a vast range of mountains that seemed to stretch endlessly below us. They looked like great giants, endlessly reaching for the sky, and covered in multiple feet of fresh powder. With the sun, the snow looked like a great pile of small diamonds, glittering brightly.
There were four of us on this heliskiing adventure; me, the guide, and a recently wed couple that I hadn't yet taken the time to get acquainted with. Our plan was to strap on our skis and various equipment, and launch down the undisturbed mountain to achieve a minimum of 39,000 feet during the next 3 days.
The ground began to draw closer as we were about to set down. We strapped on our equipment and got ready for the riveting journey that we were about to embrace. The guide was going to go down first, since he knew this place from years of experience (which is far better than any of us), and our plan was to follow him. We set down, hopped out, and watched the helicopter fly off into the distance. "Let's go," the guide said with a smile spread across his face and a slight laugh. The guide shoved himself forward, followed by the couple, and then by me.
Suddenly I found myself lunging forward down this slope that was so steep it rivaled "The Rocket" an 80-story drop at Six Flags - Elitch Gardens in Denver, Colorado. The wind and snow rammed against my body. Adrenaline flooded my veins. My stomach hit my throat. My scalp pulled tight. Goosebumps scoured across my body. The world around me became a powdery blur. My heart raced as my body became a series of motions like that of a skilled Olympian. The many years of hitting the slopes all came together in one unbelievable rush. My smile was plastered from ear to ear and froze in place. (Whenever I recount this amazing trip the very same smile returns to me.)
I followed the guide down the mountain, and arrived safely at the bottom. We stayed at the lodge, had an awesome dinner, and before I knew it, I was ready for slumber. What an awesome day, and there were still two more to look forward to. Heliskiing is unrivaled to any other skiing experience you may ever have the opportunity to embark upon in your lifetime. Unless, perhaps someday we can ski the virgin "powder" on the moon.
To go heliskiing, contact: Ruby Mountain Helicopter Skiing, PO Box 281192, Lamoille, NV 89828, PHONE: 775.753.6867 www.helicopterskiing.com
Ruby Mountain Heliski is an amazing service. And Joe Royer,... an amazing man.
Twenty-five years ago I rolled up wide-eyed to a magnificent, if largely unknown wilderness in a '64 VW ragtop. Some called the place, "Nevada's Yosemite," though most know this corner of Northeast Nevada as the Ruby Mountains.
Up to that point I'd indulged in my own kind of continental drift, bouncing from one epic outdoor spot to the next: Hawaii. New Zealand. Snowbird. The Baja peninsula.
But that wanderlust faded once I found myself at this virtuosic intersection of nature (20-miles east of Elko, Nevada, 250-miles west of Salt Lake City). The VW I ended up letting go of. As for the Rubies, I never left.
The siren song that wafted down from the Rubies rode two chords: location and utter mystery. A high tide of sagebrush steppe that stretched from here to the back of beyond just up and quit at the edge of an 11,400-foot high, 100-mile long castle in the sky.
Picture a chunk of the Alps that had gone AWOL and somehow landed in Northeast Nevada. I was spellbound. On one slope of the strikingly abrupt and linear Rubies I found immense glaciated canyons. An even less accommodating face characterized the lee or East Side. It rose nearly straight up.
When not skiing I hiked or biked amidst stunning aspen groves, meadows drenched in flowers, not to mention the northernmost stand of ancient bristlecone pines.
Where Basque sheepmen once roamed today you'll find Himalayan Snowcocks, Golden eagles, Great Horned owls, elk and mule deer. Bejeweling the Ruby high ground I reveled in glacial tarns, lakes and treeless cirque.
But along with world-class assets the Rubies are blessed with awesome prevailing conditions. By that I mean a generous storm cycle.
A cold and arid desert known as the Great Basin surrounds the Rubies. However don't let the term "desert" throw you. Most of the precipitation that falls in the region comes down as feather light snow.
The process of sublimation wicks even more moisture from the snow. The end result is big surface hoar crystals that literally bloom as the day goes on. The snow-pack here ranges from 250 up to 450-inches.
National Geographic's Adventure magazine named our 500-square mile powder reserve one of "the 30 best outdoor experiences in the world." You can ski 20,000 vert and never cut a track. To gain a similar experience you'd have to travel as far as Alaska, Canada or New Zealand.
Whether you're looking for the Alps in our own backyard, or an experience that few have encountered, the Rubies are the gem waiting to be discovered.
- Joe Royer, Ruby Mountain HeliSki |
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