The hike up the ridge is great. A solid eight hundred foot vertical gain and all of sudden you're sweating and standing on top of a ridge with two seemingly endless traverses. During our four days there we enjoyed two fresh storms with just enough to cover our tracks from the day before. The tough love I encountered no doubt came up on the ridge...
You see, I bought these new Mantras, put the good ol' fritcshi set up on 'em but didn't quite tweak the brakes out enough. Sure enough, I was setting my ski down and there it went, right over the edge of the backside of Bridger bowl.

I didn't quite have time to grasp what had happened and the wind was howling and freezing the beads of sweat on my neck. A close pal who shall never be forgotten went down there and found my ski hanging precariously off the edge of a huge cliff on the backside of D Route. Well one close call, right? In the next two days I managed to rip a 3 inch core shot into the babies and lost one of them after a 20 foot huck into a couloir. It's a couloir? How far can the ski go? well, pretty far I found out. Bottom line? After skiing the goods all up and down both traverses of the ridge Bridger Bowl is sick (and is therefore being annexed by New Mexico). It's terrain makes you feel not so much like an ambassador of the sport of skiing, but rather like a little guinea pig making tracks on a wheel in a cage. It's definitely not a bad thing...When you do go, the core shots are worth it and make sure you ski the "Never Nevers"...sick pillow lines right off the top.