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Teton Pass in The Ski Journal

Teton Pass Jackson Hole The Ski Journal

The Pass is nuts.

If you’re not up there by 8 a.m. you won’t get a parking space. (Cutoff time last year, by comparison, was 9 a.m.) And Glory Bowl (a.k.a. the Gut) is the new unofficial first run of the season. Pretty remarkable considering that in the ’70s, locals never ventured onto Glory, at all, until springtime.

That’s the recollection, anyway, of Keith Benefiel. And Keith should know. He’s been skiing Teton Pass for more than 30 years, and has recently written a piece about the Pass, “The Hatch of ‘74: The Evolution of a Pass Skier,” published in The Ski Journal, that ought to be required reading for every Tom, Dick, and Harry trying to wedge his Toyota pickup between the No Parking signs at the top of the Pass in the morning.

A little historical perspective will help us all appreciate and care for the place a little more.

Tom Russo Teton Pass Jackson Hole Ski JournalAt the very least, every skier in this town will appreciate Wade McKoy’s picture of veteran ski patroller Tom Russo juggling. On skinny nordic skis. In wool pants. With a giant beard. This image alone is worth the $12.95 price of the issue, which is available at Wilson Backcountry Sports, the Valley Bookstore, and the Cloudveil flagship store. (Issue #2 also includes not-to-miss pieces on Jay Peak, Kitzbühel, alpine painter Alfons Walde, Shane McConkey, and The Maltese Flamingo by Greg Stump. This is the ski magazine we’ve all been waiting for.)

Another favorite: the gorgeous double page spread shot by News and Guide helmsman Angus M Thuermer Jr., of Fred Bowditch skiing the mysterious Riskin’ Fallin’ Bowl on the east ridge of Mt. Elly. The shot perfectly captures the ineffable joy of face shots on the Pass on a gloomy midwinter day.

Moreover, the story sings. A snippet:

“Hitching to the Pass was hard enough without Little Bear’s canine presence, so I would go in one door of the post office and out the other. When I returned hours later, he would still be waiting. He never knew a leash.”

Benefiel and wife Diane still live in a cabin in downtown Wilson, “50 yards from my favorite hitchhiking spot,” he says. And he still skis the pass, religiously. And even with all the crowds up there, Benefiel still finds all the face shots he wants by avoiding Glory and heading south.

“I like the trees,” he says. “I don’t feel any need to look back at my tracks.”

In this case, we’re glad he did.

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