Dawn Patrol lets you get your steps in—with the reward of sweet downhill runs.
It takes 51 minutes to drive from my home to Snoqualmie Pass when there’s no traffic. At 5am on a winter weekday, that’s almost always the case. Peeling away from the semis barreling east on I-90, I pull right up to the snow berm that lines the parking lot of gravel and ice at Summit at Snoqualmie Ski Area. The dome light of my SUV illuminates just enough for me to pull on my ski boots, take out my skis, and start my workout.
It’s known as “dawn patrol,” prework exercise done by alpine touring skiers within the groomed confines of the not-yet-open ski resort. Our paths lit by headlamps, we inch uphill on skis designed to work like long, skinny snowshoes, then convert them to regular downhill skis for the ride down. It’s backcountry skiing without the avalanche hazard or wilderness travel: an outdoor treadmill with a mountain backdrop.
I can rock three 700-foot ascents before heading back to Seattle for work, which means three breezy ski runs as reward. On the best days the snow falls as the sun rises, giving those who work for it the first tracks in fresh powder; most days it’s a scrapy ride down refrozen moguls or newly groomed ripples. Some solo skiers rush up in race-ready spandex, others wear worn bibs but stop halfway up to peel off clothing as steam billows from sweaty base layers.
I’m rarely alone doing these workouts, other headlamps bobbing like moving stars up the same dark hill. I’d slog up in a straight line to the clicking sounds of my ski gear, a slight burn in my chest from the chilled air rushing into my lungs during the first, coldest lap.
Unfortunately, our local dawn patrol’s days may be numbered. It’s an activity that had long been self-policed, with individuals steering clear of grooming machines and other resort operations but not subject to many rules. But as the sport of backcountry skiing has exploded in the past decade, there’s no more free-for-all at Summit at Snoqualmie—a rare resort close enough to an urban population center to regularly draw a large number of users.
Citing safety issues, the resort now requires a special annual pass—$40 this season—and limits uphill travel to long, workout-unfriendly paths at the perimeter of the ski area. The new rules feel designed for people who uphill ski during lift operations, and in doing so take parking from (and possibly collide with) paying customers, but they apply to dawn patrollers, too.
I mean, just look at that sunrise.
Though the ski area largely sits on US Forest Service land, the special use permit issued to Summit at Snoqualmie allows them to restrict public access in certain ways. While avalanche-prone Alpental has always been off-limits, in recent years the other three Summit areas—West, Central, and East—have seen increasing uphill restrictions on various days of the week. This year, for the first time, there will be no uphill travel allowed anywhere on weekends in peak ski season.
Still, I’ll try to get back to dawn patrol this winter; the blast of cold air in the early morning always kick-starts a high that doesn’t taper until the end of my workday. I will go for the friends I run into unexpectedly, launching conversations about the true backcountry objectives we’re training for, or the strangers I start to recognize not by their face but by their ski brand, their jacket color, or even their uphill pace.
I’ll see the sun sweeten the Cascade skies to the color of orange sherbet at sunrise, and the chairlifts sharpen into view through morning clouds. I’ll feel the muscles in my legs strengthen and my mind clear as I reach the top of each lap. And then, as a little present for the workout, I’ll earn a few dozen seconds of downhill thrill before the day even begins.
