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SILVERTON –– There's eight of us, staring down a roller that funnels into a narrow chute. Our guide, Shockly, instructs us to ski down to him, one at a time and says he'll give us further instructions when we get to him. I put my arm in the snow to see how deep it is; I can't feel the bottom. In other areas on the mountain, I sink down to my neck when I unstrap my board. There was 13 inches of new powder when they started the lift in the morning and the snow had been falling steadily since then. They don't guarantee top to bottom powder skiing at Silverton, but, unlike other resorts, the snow doesn't get shredded by tons of people; the pow lasts longer than a few hours at Silverton. The most people that are guided through Silverton's steep terrain a day is 80; there were only 20 on the day I went, which means the pow gets to stick around. Waiting above the roller, I see snow fly over people's head when they hit a hard turn, making some of them yell like little kids. I'm the last person in the group to ride that particular pitch and I still get face shots. I meet my group huddled underneath some cliffs and await instructions before we get to descend the next pitch. This time, I get first tracks; I get to feel like I'm floating for a while. "Usually the only people that don't have a good time are the people that aren't good enough to ride here," said Silverton's owner, bartender and D.J., Jen Ader Brill. Silverton, tucked away in San Juans, is still somewhat of a mystery to many skiers and snowboarders. Which is odd, considering it has plenty of what riders crave the most, the white stuff. The mountain is located in a micro-climate, which means it gets dumped on when Wolf Creek, Durango or Telluride might not not be getting any snow. The combination of all that snow and Silverton's steep terrain, however, makes it an avalanche hot spot. "People thought we were crazy to open a mountain here, said Brill. "We made it a goal to prove it can be done." The staff makes the safety of the skiers their priority and they have "a good safety record," said Brill. They constantly blast for avalanches on the mountain and they require all skiers to carry an avalanche beacon, probe and shovel, just in case. Beyond that, they'll only take you terrain they believe won't slide and stuff they're confident you can ride. If they don't think you're good enough to ride there, they'll tell you, in a professional manner, that they have doubts about your ability. However, some of the people who ride at Silverton aren't who you'd expect to be shredding at an expert-only mountain; the demographic is actually pretty similar to a lot of resorts, minus the families. There are, of course, the seasoned vets and young people who want to get hucknasty, and, surprisingly, some women with gray hair under their helmets. The thing everybody everybody has in common at the mountain is they all know how to ride; except for the occasional people who aren't as good as they think they are and get in over their heads; sometimes literally. In the morning they try and group people together with others at their ability level, but mismatching people is one of their biggest problems. At lunchtime when I went, they switched around the groups; pulled some of the slower people of one group and traded them for some of the faster people. It made a big difference; one group got three afternoon runs in while the other group only got in two more, which is why during peak season they have an extra guide on duty to accommodate the needs of different groups. If you are confident riding down double blacks at resorts like Telluride or Crested Butte and are also comfortable in tight trees, then Silverton would probably be a sick experience for you. It's the offers the same gnarly terrain and it's covered with powder. Snowboarders, however, should also be comfortable skating with one foot strapped in to access terrain without slowing down the group. The potential for a great day at Silverton is there even when it doesn't snow. A snow-less day or two may allow for some terrain to open that was a potential avalanche before. It's definitely a different experience from riding at any other resort, which might be why everyone there seemed like they were friends. After a day of riding, almost everyone gathered around the stove at Silverton's base tent for a drink and some laughs. The mountain does plan to ease into unguided skiing in April. Then, continue being unguided in months when the avalanche danger is the lowest, limiting the number of people skiing without guides to 500. Despite Silverton's seemingly bottomless snow, it's unlikely to turn into a mega-resort; they'll need a toilet that flushes before that can happen. And even then, there's no place anywhere on the mountain to give lessons to tourists from Texas, so it's likely to stay pure to skiing, which is what what the owners want. If you want to go ride the pow and steeps, visit their web-site, www.silvertonmountain.com, for information on how to make a reservation; you can't just show up. Furthermore, one just has to look at Silverton's bumper stickers and tee-shirts to get an idea who rides there. They picture a skier falling off a mountain and ask the question, "got balls?" Originally published in the Montrose Daily Press' Outdoors section, 1-3-06, by Cody Olivas

Yes, now I'm a snwboarder. I have all the new gear; and I'm sure I look... what's the word? oh yeah, FLY. That's right, I just spent a thousand dollars at the mountain shop and I'm ready to go. Now all I need to do is ride this Burton; it's the best, I guess, so it should be cake. Where to start? There's a line, those runs must be cool.

Monarch –– Riding up a chair lift we see el Sheer-Rock-O covered with snow. It's not a particularly big rock, 10 feet tops, and the snow underneath it still looks soft. None of my friends I'm riding with say anything; they don't need to. Their wide eyes and big grins speak loud and clearly. A few minutes later, we're standing above the rock. Becker, an Irishman with an attitude as fiery as his hair, doesn't ask who wants to go first; he just takes a couple of turns and hops off the rock and into snow. Flo goes next –– he sticks the landing too. Then they stop, look at me –– and wait. I've landed it numerous times, but those hucks seem like they happened in a different lifetime. A reckless life which ended in a five-second free-fall after I broke the huck guide's cardinal rule; I went over the edge without checking the landing first. At the time, being wrapped in traction felt like I could have been going to the morgue in a coffin. As it turned out, my re-birth began on that ride down the mountain on ski patrol's orange sled. Mother Mountain was just putting me in a six month time-out, to teach me a lesson. Confidence is huge in every sport. On the mountain, a confident rider can ride and react with an uncluttered mind. He can live in the moment and focus on the terrain he'll soon be riding, which is essential when a mistake can result in a loss of limb or life. The only way to become confident on the mountain is to spend a lot of time there. The more time you spend on your board, or skis, the more comfortable you'll feel and then you won't have to worry about how to dodge a tree or land when your in the air. Instead, you'll just do what needs to be done and you'll be able to spend all day riding without any anxiety. Last season I was spending four days a week dancing with dangerous women I only knew by chutes, steeps and cliffs and the thrill of riding them turned confidence into cockiness. Then, Mother Mountain spanked me with a torn ACL. After that, staring down a rock for the first time again is as much of a mental challenge as it is a physical one; especially in a new life I've promised myself I'd tread lighter in. After a few seconds, I quit thinking and point my board down the rock face –– it's time to react. The landing is soft, but when I try to point down the mountain I slide out. Once I realize my knee didn't pop out, the relief quickly fades into frustration, which burns my ass like a habenero salsa. "That's okay, next time point your board more down the fall line," says Becker. He would have asked me why I wore a skirt to the mountain if I wouldn't have jumped off the rock. Instead, he told me the wreck was 'okay' because at least I tried. As it turned out, jumping off Sheer-Rock-O was just another baby step Mother Mountain watched me take. She can be a hard ass, but if you show her some respect and avoid the wildest women she'll love you and keep you warm and safe.