Telluride and Silverton are just ten miles apart as the crow flies. By car, however, you have to drive around the entire mountain range on the San Juan Skyway. Blue lights flashed behind us as we drove down the pass road towards Ridgeway.
In artificially bad English, we explained to the sheriff that we were just following the other cars. But even that didn't help. He kindly insisted that we had been traveling around 5 miles per hour too fast. However, as a first-time offender in the state of Colorado, you are only due a warning, not a fine.
On the winding Red Mountain Pass, it started to snow again, which was only right for us, as Silverton was another highlight of our road trip.
Silverton is behind the mountain in every respect. Looking at the facades, it wouldn't be surprising if Jesse James rode down Greene Street every minute. In fact, the most famous gangster of the Wild West was up to mischief in this area. Whether he also stayed at the Historic Teller House is not known.
In Silverton, freeriders basically have two options. Silverton Mountain with its old chairlift is about 6 miles into the valley. During peak season, however, only 80 riders are allowed on the mountain per day and only when accompanied by a guide. The second option is cat skiing at Molass Pass on the other side of the village towards Durango, where the nearest airport is located. As we only had one day left, we opted for cat skiing.
After a quarter of an hour's drive up the pass road, we reached the hidden base of the Silverton Powdercats. After a short avalanche transceiver briefing, we set off straight away. Three guides per snow cat, who took it in turns to act as driver, guide and tail man, led us into the remote terrain.
Blue skies, powder snow and deserted slopes: what could be better for a skier? Two or three turns, the skis gliding through the snow and immediately that surf-like feeling that we can never get enough of was there again.
The Silverton Powdercats area covers a terrain of over 140 square kilometers and stretches from 3,000 to 3,800 meters above sea level. From the end of December to mid-April, John and his team guide guests from all over the world in this beautiful mountain landscape. The area around the striking Greyrock Peak is something for connoisseurs. You won't find any steep slopes here, but instead endless gentle slopes, some open, some covered in sparse forests, which make cat skiing possible even in bad weather.
Run by run, we worked our way further into the area that day. After seven runs down the front side, John pointed down the backside. "We'll take a lunch break down there on the road (meaning the tracks of our cat)."
A nice cliff caught our eye on the way down to the break area. Of course, Jessi immediately pulled out her camera. And lo and behold, in these perfect conditions, one of our fellow Germans took the opportunity to make the first cliff jump of his life. "If not here, then where", he said to himself before plucking up all his courage and taking to the air.
What Jimbo, our second guide, finally served as a lunch buffet is something you would normally find in a restaurant, but not in a makeshift snow bar in the deepest Colorado backcountry. We recharged our batteries with sandwiches, fresh pineapple and cookies. Just as well, as we still had a long afternoon ahead of us.
While other cat ski operators often meticulously count the runs of the day, John and Co. gave the impression that they didn't want to stop. It must have been fourteen, fifteen or even sixteen runs before we finally tackled the last run down to the base with heavy legs.