A fresh powder dump in the Wasatch can only mean one thing: Dawn Patrol.


Scottie's Bowl, Little Cottonwood Canyon.


It was as good a place as any to drop in.


We could have just fallen to the parking lot below.


Mark.


Tyler.


Myself.


The Knuckle Dragger.


A day like today felt like a bonus. Especially after a week of sunshine and singletrack. The powder tasted superb. Trust me. I ate a lot of it. The dawn skin up the gut of the bowl was steep and rewarding. I don't know who the group ahead of us setting the track were, but they did a fine job. After I made my first turns down the bowl the only thing I could say was:

"May I have some more please?"

And so we climbed back up for more.

It was without a doubt one of the best commutes I have ever had into work. And it probably was one of the better trips into school for Dug's 14 year old son who showed us all up on his first day in the backcountry. Well done Ian.



Mark heading back for seconds...or was it thirds?