A thrilling ride through Stowe’s wild side

“That sidecountry and backcountry is a little bit like Disney World,’’ Tracey Eykelhoff, professional ski patroller, said later. “Skiing is like flying. You can do 90 [miles per hour] and guide yourself down a hill, or float effortlessly on some fluffy pow. It’s liberating for a lot of people.’’

The first few turns were bliss. A Nor’easter the day before had left three feet of fresh “pow,’’ and as I began my descent, the heavy snow pulled the nose of my Burton Vapor toward the earth. Every turn was a struggle in powder this deep. It was knee-deep as I fought through the heavy snowpack. “For whatever reason, the snow seems to grow a little deeper out there [in the backcountry],’’ Eykelhoff said. “There are some wicked killer lines and glory shots if you look in the right places.’’

They call this place Kitchen Wall. Buried in the dense pines at the summit of the Gondola, Kitchen Wall can be accessed by veering right, just before the first sweeping corner of Upper Perry Merrill. Technically it doesn’t have a name; it’s not even on the trail map. Most likely it’s some local ski bum’s name for the deadly ridge I traversed. But the name fits the setting. It’s unique, like the waist- to shoulder-deep lines I rode over a 36-degree pitch. It feels unlike anything else on the mountain.

My iPod sent Rob Zombie’s “Dragula’’ screaming through the speakers in my helmet. The violent drums and crashing cymbals drowned the silence of the crisp mountain air as I slashed into the open clearing and halted atop a rocky outcropping. There wasn’t a tree for 10 feet in any direction, only a sea of white below me. Adrenaline coursed through my body as I turned the music up louder and blasted into the natural terrain park.

After slicing through gullies, chutes, and riverbeds and weaving in and out of stands of 30-foot pine behemoths for 45 minutes, I was into the home stretch. But I caught a glimpse of what was ahead of me, and I couldn’t relax yet. To reach the exit, I would be forced into a narrow slot lined with rocks and branches on both sides of my feet. I stood up straight, locked my arms to my sides, and took a deep breath, trusting the mountain to deliver my inert body across this final chasm.

As I was about to emerge from the tree line 25 feet ahead of me, one skier zipped down the Nosedive trail. Ignoring his surroundings, he clipped a young skier and sent her tumbling in a little cloud of ice and snow.

I couldn’t help thinking about what Kitchen Wall offers. I had just ridden for over an hour in the heart of Stowe’s backcountry and not only did I find epic terrain and conditions, but I didn’t see a single person. I was alone and having more fun than I ever could have on any marked trail.

The backcountry offered a natural sanctuary that cannot be found on any of Stowe’s famed Front Four. No tourists, no reckless torpedoes rocketing down the mountain at top speed, just me and the mountain. And I was just fine with that.

Michael Wood can be reached at mcwood113@gmail.com.