January 30 – February 1, 2026
I pulled out of the Zephyr Lodge parking lot and pointed the Tahoe north on Highway 40. The family was headed home to Kansas City, Missouri. I was headed to new territory I’d been dreaming to explore, Steamboat Springs.
The drive up takes you through some of the most dramatic mountain scenery in Colorado — on a clear day. This was not a clear day. Coming over the pass into Steamboat the snow was falling so hard I could barely see 20 yards past the hood. Parts of it were white-knuckle driving even with four-wheel-drive, the road disappearing into white in every direction. I gripped the wheel, kept it slow, and trusted the Tahoe.
It was worth it.
I arrived around 11am, suited up in the parking lot, made a sandwich from the leftover lunch meat still in the Yeti cooler from Winter Park, and caught the bus to the resort. The bus drops at a pedway that runs through a fantastic common area at the base — shops, warmth, the smell of food, a big crowd of skiers — and I walked straight through it all with my skis on my shoulder to the Steamboat Gondola and rode it to the top.
It was snowing when I got there.
I want to be precise about what happened next because it’s the kind of thing that sounds like an exaggeration: there were 8 to 10 inches of fresh powder on the mountain that first day. Not packed powder. Not groomed powder. Actual, untouched, knee-deep Colorado powder — the kind that skiers drive eight hours for and rarely find on purpose.
I had not planned for this. It simply happened. That’s what the Camino does.
I spent the morning working my way across the mountain, learning the lifts and figuring out how to get around before settling in for a long set of runs on Morningside. That’s where Steamboat revealed itself to me — the backside, through the trees, thick powder on the blue runs off the Morningside lift. Run after run, the snow still falling, the trees muffling everything except the sound of my skis.
For lunch I ducked into Four Points Lodge. There were signs about no outside food — I noticed them, acknowledged them quietly, found a spot by the window in the busy crowd, and enjoyed my sandwich with a view of the slopes. The lodge looked like it had solid food and bar options. I spotted a BBQ porch on the way in. Being from Kansas City I kept walking.
It was snowing when I left to find a hotel for the night.
The second day was powder again.
This time I found the picnic tables they call the Outback — and discovered what might be the best lunch setup on the mountain: a snow beach chair overlooking the slopes, my sandwich in hand, fresh powder all around. No signs about outside food at the outback. Nobody seemed to mind.
After lunch I made a discovery above the Morningside lift. I noticed people hiking up past the Alarm Clock and Snooze Bar run signs. Signs said East Face, No Names … I followed them.
The hike took me up toward North St. Pats, the kind of terrain you can only reach on foot — the kind of place that rewards the curious and turns away the comfortable. At the top I ran into a group of French guys who’d had the same idea. One of them spoke enough English to ask if I’d take their picture against the mountain and the sky. They returned the favor.
I’d heard the double black diamonds on 0ne side calling my name. I listened to it briefly, then made the wiser choice — dropping down Wake Up Call a single black and skiing back to Morningside lift. Some lessons you learn on other mountains. Some you remember just in time.
I covered the mountain from side to side both days, but kept coming back to the Morningside. Some mountains you explore. Some mountains you find a corner of and don’t want to leave. Steamboat’s backside through the trees was that corner for me.
I had five days on my Ikon pass at Steamboat. I planned to ski three or more but only ended up using two. The pilgrim’s instinct was already pulling me toward something else. I just didn’t know it yet.
Each night I drove the hour back to the Super 8 in Craig, Colorado — $50-60 a night, clean, sufficient, perfectly aligned with the hostel budget. The staff was great. I only booked one night on Price Line but when I left to ski I let them know I was day to day and they agreed to honor the same rate if I called back later for a 2nd night. I called and they honored while explaining to me that housekeeping didn’t work so the room would be just as I left it. The Camino doesn’t require comfort. It requires showing up.
Then it was 4 o’clock in the morning and I was wide awake.
I don’t know exactly how to explain what happened. I was running through logistical options for getting to Jackson Hole. The Camino has always run on instinct more than itinerary. Something just said: go to Utah. Ski Snowbird. Today.
I was on the road before sunrise watching the moonset. I was feeling excited and apprehensive at the same time. It was about five hours to Snowbird. Would this detour be worth it for half a day of skiing?
The drive from Craig to Snowbird runs south through Colorado and then west across Utah — several hours of dark highway slowly giving way to desert light and people scattered across high country lakes ice fishing. The Wasatch Range just ahead of me rising like a promise. I arrived around 11am and immediately encountered the first logistical challenge of the day: parking.
Snowbird’s lots were packed. I drove until I found a spot on Little Cottonwood Canyon Road behind The Lodge at Snowbird. Parallel parking a couple of feet from the edge. I made a decision that seemed entirely reasonable at the time: I suited up but left my tennis shoes on, walked up and through the back parking lot of The Lodge at Snowbird to the aerial tram, put my ski boots on there, and tied my tennis shoes to a nearby ski rack.
The tram took me up and Snowbird delivered me to The Road to Provo and the Knucklehead Traverse to the open bowl was very intimidating Maybe I should have started on some easier runs before jumping off into a black diamond bowl.
I usually get good direction from people I meet riding up the lifts and a Snowbird local delivered a tip that this ski pilgrim needed badly. “Don’t miss the tunnel to Mineral Basin.” Both the magic carpet ride through the tunnel museum and the other side of the mountain were a treat not to be missed.
I skied much of the afternoon on Mineral Basin and Mount Baldy before heading back to the front side. Late afternoon I pointed my skis down Gadzook’s — a fairly narrow black diamond with some serious moguls. I was feeling good. Maybe too good. Where it intersects with Bananas below, I eased up thinking I’d level out on the blue cut and collect myself. Instead I hit a bump, went airborne, and came down wrong on my left knee. Hard.
I lay there for a moment taking stock. The knee was talking to me — not screaming, but definitely talking. I was also quietly grateful I had my helmet on, because I’d gone backwards and my head had met the snow with some authority.
Not hurt badly enough to stop skiing. But aware. Very aware. I had a lot of mountain left in front of me — Jackson Hole, Red Lodge, Big Sky, Banff, Lake Louise. The knee was going to have to come along for all of it. That meant making smarter decisions from here on out: more weight on the right, less pushing into terrain that didn’t forgive mistakes.
I skied the rest of the afternoon on that understanding. When I got back to the bottom I found my tennis shoes right where I’d left them, still tied to the rack. Put them back on. Walked to the car.
The Camino provides. Even the hard lessons.
Back on the road by late that Saturday afternoon, I drove north through Salt Lake City on what seemed like heavy workday rush hour. Salt Lake City was much bigger and busier than I thought. On into Idaho as the light faded over the high desert before I found a Super 8 in Pocatello that fit the budget.
That evening I did laundry at the hotel — a dollar a machine. I mention this because after weeks on the road, a dollar a machine feels like winning.
Free breakfast in the morning, a little extra tucked away for the road. Next stop: Jackson Hole, Wyoming — and a detour into Grand Teton National Park that I hadn’t planned for at all.
The 4am wild hair had worked out. It almost always does.
💡 Ski Camino Tips — Chapter 4
Don’t fear the white-knuckle drive: Mountain passes in a snowstorm are manageable with four-wheel-drive, good tires, and patience. Slow down, stay focused, and trust your vehicle. The powder waiting on the other side is worth it.
Craig, Colorado as a Steamboat base: The Super 8 in Craig runs $50-60 a night — about an hour from Steamboat but a fraction of resort lodging prices. If budget is the priority, the drive is worth it.
Find the Morningside lift at Steamboat: Most visitors stick to the front of the mountain. The backside off Morningside — especially through the trees on a powder day — is where Steamboat really shines. Don’t miss it.
Hike to the goods at Steamboat: Above the Morningside lift, follow the boot tracks uphill toward North St. Pats for terrain you can only reach on foot. Drop back down via Wake Up Call if you want a single black option back to the lift. Worth every step of the hike.
Steamboat’s Outback picnic tables: Skip the indoor lodge crowds at lunch and find the Outback picnic area. Snow beach chair, fresh air, views of the slopes — and no signs about outside food.
Talk to locals on the lifts: Some of the best tips of the whole Ski Camino came from strangers on chairlifts. Ask where the locals ski, what’s worth hiking to, what you’d regret missing. They always know something the trail map doesn’t show.
Don’t miss Snowbird’s Mineral Basin tunnel: A Snowbird local pointed me here and it was one of the highlights of the day. Take the magic carpet through the tunnel museum and ski the basin on the other side. A unique experience you won’t find anywhere else.
The Snowbird parking hack: Snowbird’s lot fills fast on good days. The road shoulder is a legitimate option if you’re willing to walk. Or in my case, walk in tennis shoes and change at the tram.
Pocatello, Idaho — Super 8: A solid budget stop on the I-15 corridor between Utah and Wyoming. Dollar-a-machine laundry. Can’t ask for more.
Next: Chapter 5 — Grand Teton, Jackson Lake & the Golden Ticket at Jackson Hole
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The Camino provides. Come along for the ride.
Camino American Style 