As the skies become increasingly overcast, cold snow begins to blow across the remote, barren road. We drive through Yellowstone National Park (en route to Cooke City, MT) and pass 3 wolves strolling a ridgeline and a couple dozen bison lingering in the plains as we continue towards the mountains. They lay hidden behind the grey wall of clouds which stream in from the north. By the time we roll into Cooke, there were already a couple of inches on the ground. We shoulder our packs and anxiously hike into the mountains; towards a cabin nestled in the continuous, conifer forest.
The next morning dawns with over a foot of new snow. Touring south, we hop over the border and into Wyoming and the North Absaroka Wilderness. Snaking our way through mellow terrain that tops out above treeline the gale force winds push us back to the safety of the trees, where 1,500 foot shots awaited our tracks.
On day three the sky is bluebird and the storm had completely lifted. We tour high onto a ridge that cuts the Rocky Mountain sky with faces, chutes and lines in every direction–eye candy galore. We gaze down a funnel that dumps into a football field, 40-degree slope, but decide to leave it for another day. Ripping skins we bounce down treed ribs and gulleys; 1,200 feet of powder to the valley floor.