Brighton Opening Weekend: Pandemic Snowboarding

I had the immense pleasure of snowboarding Brighton's opening weekend with four chairs running (Majestic, Crest, Snake Creek, and Millie) and thought I would share my experience for those of you still trying to decide if skiing is in the cards for you this winter. Like so many things -- school, church, holidays, etc. -- no one knows quite what to expect from Utah's ski season. On one hand, it's hard to picture a sport more conducive to the virus. It's outdoors, socially distanced, face covering are common and easy to adopt, and most of the ticket purchasing and scanning is done digitally these days even in a pre-pandemic world. 

On the other hand (and aren't there ALWAYS two hands in 2020?), anyone who has skied a busy day in Utah knows how crowded and pushy people can be in lift lines, how chairlifts are not socially distanced, how cases numbers are through the roof and hospitals are overrun, changing the carefully calibrated risk tolerance many of us employed hiking and outdoor recreating over the summer. 

Brighton Trail Map

My decision to buy a season pass was twofold. 1) Outdoor recreating is what has kept me sane this whole pandemic. I'm fine to give up trampoline parks and Lagoon and the children's museum and movies and indoor dining, but by God, I need outdoor recreation. Luckily, science seems to support the relative safety of being outdoors and socially distanced. So we hike and we ski and we trudge forward to 2021. 2) Even if I never once snowboarded this whole season, buying a pass helps support my local mountain (Brighton), which is sure to be hit hard by coronavirus due to reduced capacity and services. 

But now I have gone once, and I am dying to talk about the first day, which felt shockingly normal and was one of the best mental health mornings I've had in 2020. Some factors first. Brighton opened on November 19 just to season passholders. We haven't had a lot of snow, but coverage was decent and the groomed trails were impeccable. The day I went was a bluebird day, warm, sunny, and not a breath of wind. Predictably, since ticket sales aren't open yet, there was ample parking, light crowds, and short lift lines. I arrived at the parking lot at 8:40 and was fourth in line for the 9:00 am first chair. 

I missed this. Image courtesy of Utah Ski Weather

Positives up front. Unlike many "public" places I go to, like Costco or Target, where everyone avoids eye contact and shuffles through aisles seemingly on a death march, there was a really positive vibe from the opening weekend skiers. You could tell people have been jonesing for winter sports since the mountains closed in March, and there was a real joviality, more so than usual, to the lift lines. Unlike normal times when people are ALWAYS skiing right up to or even over the backs of your equipment, social distancing was actually happening in the lift lines, which, admittedly, were not very long and were comprised of passholders who generally have a better sense of lift line etiquette to begin with. 

Now the negatives, or at least what could be perceived as negative. My understanding of chairlift policy in 2020-2021 is that on 2-3 person lifts, you should only ride with the people with whom you drove to the mountain. For quads, or four-seaters, two singles can ride up together at opposite ends of the lift roughly six feet apart. 

Image courtesy of Salt Lake Tribune

For anyone who thinks this fantasy is going to be enforced, barring a major managerial crackdown, let me avail you of that notion right now. I rode the chairlift about ten times in two hours. As a single (thanks to Robert for staying home with the kids!), I rode by myself twice, and that was because there was virtually no one else in line. Most of the time the lifties were just letting the skiers and snowboarders file in per usual, leaving the question of who's "together" to the discretion of the riders. I mostly rode on quads with one other person at the opposite end, which felt safe enough outdoors with masks. Once I ended up with 2 teenagers, at the direction of the lifties who asked me to join their group. It was still in the realm of fine(ish) for me. There was some space between us; they sat together and there was an empty chair between us. Masks were pulled up over noses and mouths, and I noticed that as we spoke we sort of faced away from each other, directing our respiratory droplets into the void. After months of avoiding conversation with strangers, it was actually really nice to chat. And everyone was noticeably down to chat. Usually on chairlifts you can sense whether a stranger just wants to ride in peace, often wearing headphones or giving a one word response to a greeting and subtly shifting away. On Brighton's opening weekend, every single person seemed eager for the superficial yet viscerally comforting chit chat of passing strangers, which, obviously, has been in short supply in 2020. 

I devote this much space to lift policy because this is where I see a lot of potential tension this season. The vibe on my first day was really positive and generous. I heard a few people request to ride up alone, even on the quads, and the lifties were happy to comply. I was able to spot and pair up with other singles to avoid riding up in 3's or 4's, thereby engineering a reality that matched my comfort level. It's hard to see this "policy" scaling up to busy days with notoriously cranky and entitled tourists who want quick lines to guarantee their money's worth. It also feels precarious to rely on the skiers and snowboarders to essentially self-regulate safety. The average liftie already struggles in normal times with crowd control. I foresee a lot of irritation, discomfort, and anger this season unless lifties are given more training and protocols for loading chairs according to mountain policy. 

Let's also talk for a second about masks. I would put mask compliance (by which I mean over the mouth and nose) at about 80% in the lift lines. Everyone had something on, but some people had to be reminded by lifties to pull them up over their nose. Everyone I rode a chairlift with had their masks pulled up appropriately except one guy, and I spent the entire lift ride debating whether or not to ask him to pull it up over his nose (I didn't because I'm conflict averse). In regards to my own mask experience, I am delighted to report that wearing a mask did not make my goggles fog up, and I even felt like it gave me an extra layer of protection to the elements. I didn't even have to wear sunscreen. Chalk up masking while snowboarding to one of those pandemic things that might make its way into my normal routine. 

An old photo I came across the other day, circa 2001. Awwww, Baby Becky. 

Easier times with two of my early snowboard buddies, Tracy and Lindsay. Big Bear, circa 2000. 

Pandemic considerations aside, it was a magical morning. The crisp, cool air, freedom of flying down the slopes, humming familiar songs on a empty chairlift, mindless chatter with strangers on a shared one, the shared positive vibe over the start of ski season; it all added up to a perfect morning that soothed my soul for what is sure to be a tough winter. This is not a recommendation post because only you can decide what feels safe and appropriate for you in 2020, but hopefully this information can help you make a choice of what's right for your family this season. Stay safe! And for the love of all that's holy, please pull up that mask.