Skiing fresh pow Photo by Alex West

For all of day two we kick it at the lodge, Red's Ranch. The place is great for killing an entire day. We play pool, eat a lot, walk around the property and generally watch the snow fly. In keeping with its tightly knit feel, RMH leaves their general store unattended so we can just walk out there and browse around.

Another bonus of going to a heli company that has cow patties on the landing zone is that you just might have a cowboy in your midst. Ours is Whitey (of course) and he's a guide. He's one of those guys with an amazing story for his own life and anecdotes for everyone else's. He had been a cattle rustlin' cowpoke for over twenty years spending seven months a year on the range and the other five ski bumming at Squaw Valley and in Utah. "If you find yourself in a hole, stop digging." "Experience is nothing but a bunch of bad decisions." Whitey's cowboy logic keeps us entertained through the early afternoon around the chow table.

As the day creeps on we keep wondering if there is any chance of getting out there in the ship. Via radio we overhear a transmission between the owner, Joe Royer, and one of his guides:

Devo's voice over the radio: "Hey Joe, how late are we gonna wait 'til we call this thing?"

Whitey to us in the dining room: "OK! Everybody pick a time Ð we'll get a pool goin'!"

Us: "One-thirty!" "No, wait - two! Yeah, two!"

Joe Royer's voice over the radio: "Two-thirty. We'll take one run if we can get it."

We all laugh!

"The operative phrase becomes 'cold smoke' and it blows far over our shoulders, snow contrails lingering for minutes..."

The format of trips with RMH is such that you can't wait out storms for a week like you hear about in Alaska. The idea is that you stay here for three days and notch run after run until you burn your 39,000 vertical feet. And it works 99% of the time because this magnitude of a storm is so rare. The Rubies are classified as an 'inter-mountain' range which means they typically don't get the colossal dumps that maritime ranges do. Also, they are usually between two weather patterns and get moderate accumulations from big systems marching to their north or south. The guides say that every three-day tour gets at least one bluebird day and then a mix of partly cloudy and partly sunny days.

On our day three it is...still dumping! We are starting to have visions of Jack Nicholson strolling crosseyed through the hallways on his way to the RedRum. All of us do indeed love Red's Ranch but man, are we ready to get outside! We find ourselves at the heli pad preparing to fly to the snowcats. That way, if the storm breaks at all we will already be out there skiing and can sneak in a few lifts if possible. The storm never lets up so we keep doing cat laps in the lightest, deepest snow any of us have ever seen. The operative phrase becomes 'cold smoke' and it blows far over our shoulders, snow contrails lingering for minutes. Soooo, this is how skiers like you and me can live in eastern Nevada! After about six or seven runs we ski down to the mountain landing zone and get a final hop back to Red's.

This particular tour is obviously an exception so Joe Royer allowed a little leeway in his rules. Our time here is over but because tomorrow is just a welcome day for new arrivals he lets anyone in our posse stay on and see what happens with the weather. If it clears, guests can fly for a small additional charge.

The next day comes and is...a miniature model of the entire trip condensed into an eight hour span. The heli drops folks off on a summit just as a fogbank sneaks onto the range. They are stuck on the peak for a little while (read: grounded) and aren't sure what is going to happen next. They wait around until it clears enough for the ship to land and bring them back to Red's. There, they pack up and prepare to leave the Rubies when Joe rushes in and tells them, "It's clear. Come on let's go!" They are only one heli-load of people and bang out seven runs in three hours. Imagine their bliss: an initial day of skiing followed by a day of waiting, then a day of cat-skiing. Then the big tease of flying to a peak only to be packing bags shortly thereafter. Then the denouement - their own private heli and mountain range with fresh blower powder all over it! That's L-I-V-I-N'! And that's how it is supposed to be at Ruby Mountain.

For more information on RMH, go to www.helicopterskiing.com.

Special thanks to Joe and Francy Royer, Carol, Devo, YT, Mary and the rest of the crew!