Utah's park of perfection

Three of America's best skifields have their roots in Park City, Utah. Cameron Williamson finds that New Zealand skiers are discovering this North American winter wonderland.

It's the cute-as-a-button ski town about half-an-hour's drive from Salt Lake City, but the snow- roofed clapboard cottages and quietly expensive art shops in Main St are hiding something.

This town has history in spades, Olympic champions in the dozens, more than 3000 hectares of developed ski and ride terrain and unlimited backcountry, and - here's a surprise for a Mormon state - the best whiskey and vodka in the Rockies, distilled in the centre of town.

Hard-core New Zealand skiers have known about Utah's snow for decades, but the trickle of grungy powderhounds is turning into a solid stream of returnees, says the town's international host Patton Murray.

"We're seeing more and more organised groups of New Zealanders arriving each winter because it's straightforward to get here and we have the best snow and the best deals."

Perhaps it's Utah's famous Latter Day Saints reserve that's suffusing the atmosphere on my arrival, one Sunday lunchtime in early March.

The stars who illuminate Park City for the world famous Sundance Film Festival have left town - "Man, you should have seen those Californians on stilettos in the snow," laughs my driver. The winter-sports stars who rip up the race courses and half-pipes are wowing Winter Olympics watchers up in Whistler - "That [snowboarder] Shaun White is on top of the world." The snow is thinning after a storm-free February.

My itinerary suggests a walking tour of the old silver mining town. Fifty years ago, after the silver ore became uneconomical to mine, Park City would have become a ghost town were it not for its other natural resource, powder snow.

But my legs are twitching after a trans-Pacific flight and a 1 1/2-hour connection from San Francisco. I need to ski.

So after a bacon burger and a pint of Pabst Blue Ribbon on draught from the locals' favourite grazer, Davanza's, I'm riding the Town Lift just a stumble from my condo.

Park City is the central base camp for three highly rated ski areas - Deer Valley, Park City Mountain Resort and The Canyons - and Olympic Park, site of the 2002 Winter Olympics with its ice rinks, swooping ski jumps and half-pipe bobsled tracks.

That's made it a logical home for many of America's best winter athletes - gold medal bobsled driver Steve Holcomb grew up ski racing in Park City; alpine racer Lindsey Vonn and freestyler Hannah Kearney have all called Park City home.

The town is world headquarters of Rossignol and Dynastar ski hardware empires, Skullcandy headphones, Black Diamond outdoor gear, and is still growing. The interconnection spreads to ski service shops too.

Need some hire gear? Try it on at one of the three Cole Sports shops in town, tell them where you want it, and find brand new skis, tuned and loaded, waiting at the bottom of your nominated lift.

My lift leaves from the centre of town. The Town Lift quad chair crosses the road (Park Avenue, of course) and zooms up through douglas fir forest straight into the heart of Park City Mountain Resort.

Squint your eyes and ... yes, you could be at any number of North American skifields. But one thing makes Utah the cream of the rest of the Rockies' crop: shedloads of light and fluffy powder snow.

The state even managed to trademark the line "the greatest snow on Earth" despite litigious objections from the Disney empire.

Even in a tight snow season like the last one, only a local would complain. The groomed trails are all in prime condition because the snow never melts. When it dumps, it dumps. Storms roll in from the northwest. Black clouds plump with precipitation, freeze-dried over the Nevada deserts, jettison their loads in falls measured in metres - normally more than nine each season.

Thankfully, the storm arrives on my second evening in Park City.

There's no wind, and the blow- away snow piles high on every surface. But only till the early birds hit the first lifts and feast on the knee- deep drifts.

At the top of the Town Lift, you're looking at a landscape of peaks, ridges and bowls that cover the 750ha of PCMR. Ride the main ridge on Bonanza, a high-speed six-seater and the breadth of the area becomes obvious.

Jupiter Peak at 3050 metres and the huge double black (experts only) bowl it serves spreads out to the right, while McConkey's Bowl's intermediate pistes with black (advanced) connecting couloirs beckons me left.

Already the beautifully graded trails lead me past woodsy balcony'd restaurants and old flat-planked minehead buildings. The snow is firm and dry, the air is rare.

The trails naturally funnel to the resort base, where a rickety luge entertains those who want more than the skiing. The base is a small town of bars and restaurants, hotels and lodges and the hub for lifts heading out in two other directions.

Eagle triple chair gives access to a sea of blue (intermediate) tree-lined avenues from Temptation to Climax. They meet at the base of King Con quad, and feed the Silverlode six- seater.

As the terrain gets more challenging, views up to Jupiter Bowl and out to the endless Wasatch Front range astound first-timers like me. Who knew heaven looked like this?

There's no reason to try a new field each day, but for the sake of exploration I ride Park City's free bus for 15 minutes to The Canyons.

It looks familiar, and I recognise the shapes as Park West - the resort that epitomised Utah cool in the 70s.

The Canyons incorporated Park West and tripled the ski area to 3700 skiable acres with 167 trails, 18 lifts, eight mountains, six natural half- pipes, five bowls and two terrain parks. It's like a small country in itself, and is dotted with quirky restaurants from the fire-warmed yurt - the 5-way Cafe - which sits on a crossroads at 2652 metres to the Legends Bar & Grill.

In the Legends' clubby restaurant you can order fresh halibut or a succulent New York strip, and sip imported beers and Californian pinot.

My whirlwind tour of The Canyons is done at unexpectedly high speed.

Mountain guide Hannah Bowling is about the same length as her skis, and she skis fast lines.

We start over on the dreamy side of the field where the Dreamcatcher and Dreamscape quad lifts rise through backlit aspen groves to Dream Peak (2825m).

It's a pinch-me perfect day, and while runs like Bogeyman and Sleepwalker wind down past the beautiful empty mountain houses of The Colony, Illusion and Specter lock onto the fall-line and require all your concentration.

Through the day we visit the Flight of the Canyon's Gondola (yes, they know our comedy kings), ski the Paradise Chutes and the Escapade Woods, and exceed the speed and flight-height limits on Apex Ridge (let 'em run!).

Fighting high-altitude thin-air issues with sheer enthusiasm, I even manage some hike-to treats up at Murdock Peak - epic backcountry 20 minutes from the lift. But Hannah's chuckle when I suggest we cover the area from left to right is a knowing one: even a week isn't long enough to ski it all.

I can see a return visit is the only solution.

Fast Facts

Getting there: Air New Zealand flies daily to Los Angeles and San Francisco. Salt Lake City is a 90-minute domestic flight. Free buses every 15 minutes connect the town and skifields.

Staying there: Park City Lodging has a full range of condos and ski-in homes in the area. parkcitylodging.com

Eating and drinking: From quality spirits at High West Distillery to buffalo wings and beers at Davanza's, Park City's restaurants are as good and broad as America's best. Grappa serves great Italian cuisine; El Chubasco and the Brewpub Cantina serve hot Mexican with beers; Grub Steak on Prospector Square does good meat/seafood; Molly Blooms and O'Shucks go the Irish way. Buy local beer and wine at the supermarket, try the bars for anything stronger.

More at parkcityinfo.com.

The writer was a guest of Ski Traveller, Park City and Air New Zealand.

- © Fairfax NZ News