The outlook was grim. Crested Butte, Colorado, had a thin, 30-inch base and the US Extreme Freeskiing Championships had been postponed due to lack of snow. As I grappled with the decision of what to do with my non-refundable airline ticket, every local I called had a forced optimism in their tones that barely masked their true mood: DENIED.

I decided to go anyway.

If the locals could handle the minimal snow, so could I. Those lucky enough to live in any ski town like Crested Butte are psyched when it dumps, but they're also stuck in for the dry spells. And living close to a mountain void of snow is like a constant reminder of the fun you could be having.

For those people who choose to make the mountains their lives, the cost for first rights to powder days is having to wait out dry spells. It's a small price to pay. So I decided not to hold it against a cool place just because it was low on snow. I thought, "I'm in." We planned on alternate activities such as backcountry skiing, snowshoeing, snowmobiling, watching hockey and visiting the local watering holes.

But my angle on flying to Crested Butte to willingly suffer at the bar in the Eldo changed when a storm dumped 60 inches of new snow in eight days. We traded our alternate agenda for a few days of riding the big dump.

Our first day yielded an abundant 13 inches on top of almost two feet from the previous days. We knew it wasn't an ordinary powder day. It was the first big powder day of the year. The legendary North Face opened for the first time this winter during our visit, and the energy from excited local skiers and snowboarders was contagious.

Local Crested Buttian Jeff Moffett brought us to the sweet spots as we skied laps on Resurrection off the East River Lift. The snowfall gave us the chance to ski long, untracked powder runs on intermediate terrain before we graduated to the Headwall and the North Face later in the day. The Glades were steep, deep powder stashes. We finished our first day on the other side of the mountain with a reconnaissance run down Twister with plans to explore that area more over the coming days.

We followed Jeff to his favorite stashes which soon became our favorites. For the first time this season, I choked on a cloud of powder snow. I finished my run gagging from the dry wake of powder that flew from my ski tips over the top of my head.

Though I was excited and a little anxious about heading over to the notorious steeps of The Extreme Limits (locals just call it The North Face), I learned soon enough the most difficult line at Crested Butte is the Poma that schleps people up to The North Face. Yes, the terrain this lift accesses is double-black diamond, but the potential humiliation you face if you miss the Poma sketched me out more than the gnarly terrain. Here's a quick lesson: you have to grab the Poma and put the round plate between your legs before the track takes a dip. If you don't get the plate securely planted and ready for take-off, you're potentially knocked off the uphill track and left to crawl out of the way in front of the audience of experts waiting in line.

Snowboarders have it the worst. We saw one snowboarder fall after he grabbed the pole and didn't get the plate between his legs in time to start up the steep hill. The Poma yanked itself out of his hands and he had to scurry out of the way. After four misfires, he was booed away by the people he was holding up, waiting to catch their ride to untracked powder.

"Today is NOT the day to learn how to ride this lift," said one local, jonesing to access this part of the mountain where the ropes had just recently been dropped and which requires a major amount of snowpack to open. One of the old-timers ahead of me in line simply hollered, "Loser!!!"

It had been longer than any ski town should have to wait for the white monsoons. During a couple rest days, we enjoyed other activities such as Nordic skiing, sledding, and a mandatory visit to the Irwin Lodge in the backcountry.

We even fit in a backcountry day to Coney's — a ridge a few miles from town. Phoenix Bowl opened that day at the ski area, but we were far from waiting in line.

We saw Dick Eflin, one of the original owners of the ski area, in the Poma line one day. Eflin used to hike the ridge before the Poma even existed. He and his business partner built the first lifts back in '60 and '61. Eflin was the general manager from '60-'67 and now owns Eflin Sports at the base area. For a historical perspective on skiing in Crested Butte, Eflin knows more than just about anybody.

Eflin described for us the early days of grooming the mountain. "Our first grooming machine was three bicycle wheels without inner tubes, and we just bolted oak slats on the wheels so it was like a big rolling pin, we pulled it up the T-bar and rolled it down the slopes."

According to Eflin, though Crested Butte may not seem to outsiders like it's changed much over the last 40 years, he's seen a lot of change. But the private, family-owned Crested Butte Mountain Resort is still small by comparison. Especially in a time when many corporate conglomerates, such as the publicly traded Intrawest, American Ski Company and Vail Resorts are taking the British Imperialism approach to ski areas.

Crested Butte is strikingly different from many other Colorado resorts in that it's maintained a small-town community feel. The tourists and locals mingle on the bus that drives through town every 15 minutes before it heads to the mountain a few miles away. And as a tourist, you don't feel gauged by resort prices. You can still get lunch in the lodge for $6, beers are $3 and the bus is free.

"It has grown steadily but it's grown slowly," Eflin said. "There are a lot of things we have now that we didn't have in the early days, free busses running around. There are a lot of nice things that come along with growth. I've never experienced more than a 10 minute-long lift line. And we're skiing things now that I never dreamed we'd ski."

The Banana and The Peel, two distinct features on the the west face of Mt. Crested Butte, are some of the runs that Eflin never considered as in-bounds terrain, but to those who want to tackle them in prime conditions, they're all fair game now.

Crested Butte Mountain Resort (CBMR) is still privately owned and run by two families, the Callaways and the Waltons. According to Ralph "Scout" Walton III, VP of Operations, there are pros and cons to consolidation.

"It's easy to map out the benefits on paper, but it's harder to achieve them. Larger companies can get lower unit prices, be it ski lifts or french fries, but things like trying to build one culture out of three ski schools is not so easy. The benefits are on paper, but the con is that it's harder to realize these benefits."

CBMR is not competing with the bigger resorts in terms of balance sheets, but it is in terms of skiers. And being smaller doesn't mean it's not business savvy. It recently sold the base-area Marriott to Club Med, a decision that was embraced by some locals, including the writer of a recent editorial in the Gunnison Country Times who said, "Imagine our lack of surprise...Imagine our relief. Club Med — the international party people... we're glad CBMR's still in the family."

Being private does mean that CBMR doesn't have the borrowing power of a publicly traded company, but Walton believes the benefits of being closer to customers outweighs the temptation of consolidation.

"We're a little more constrained, but what that creates is a sense of discipline. We're keen and sharp," Walton said.

Club Med will bring more skiers and dollars here from new markets, and though, to an extent, growth in Crested Butte is certain, this golden nugget in the Elk Range of the Rocky Mountains will for sure maintain its original character as long as possible.