Ask any die-hard skier what their favorite season is, and you’re likely to receive a definitively delivered “Winter!” in response. And why not? After all, the solstice is the domain of sparkling cold smoke blowing through long blue shadows. It inhabits our mind like a nostalgic childhood memory suspended in time. It’s got the fluff our dreams are made of, and those dreams are powerful enough to pull us through life’s inevitable lows and summer’s sweltering highs. The shortest days of the year certainly linger longer in the psyche of a skier. However, despite the fact that I myself have surely answered the “favorite season” question with a resounding and self-assured “Winter,” today I’m in a different mood. So, I ask you to suspend your personal preferences, whatever they may be, and let me spin a tale of the true champion of seasons: spring. 

The most obvious reason that skiers would cite winter as their favorite season can be summed up in one word: snow. It is the medium of our chosen art, and its presence defines our possibilities. Bottomless powder is the golden goose skiers continually chase, and winter often lays claim to the lightest snow of the year. But, I’ve come to realize that in spite of the hype for deep winter dumps, spring usually delivers the best days in the mountains. It comes down to the incredible variety. 

Supercharged March storms roll in like a lion from the warming atmosphere and drop unexpectedly hefty amounts of snow, smashing any pesky early winter weak layers in the snowpack and boosting base depths to their seasonal peaks. Big air confidence peaks for the air freaks as well, with clean landing zones buried by the deep late-season storms. And while their water content may tend a bit higher than the solstice squalls, by playing the timing and aspects right, you can rip every type of snow imaginable, sometimes all in the same day. 

Early morning groomers run fast and gripping. Negate the need for caffeine as your blood vessels surge with dopamine. Uncharted couloirs tucked next door in the north-facing shadows tempt you away with the texture of drifted blower. A pseudo-spooky attraction takes hold, and you follow the blue hues further into the ethereal whiteroom. Protected from the solar rays, shady alpine avenues still provide an ample supply of unadulterated pow in springtime. Around the other side of the compass, on the south-facing slopes, the corn is ripening for harvest, so you switch gears and get ready to carve. The subtle touch and precise performance of perfect corn snow doesn't have the wow factor that jet dry pow does in our mind's eye, but it can lead to the most ludicrous lines opening up. Tilted high-angle velvet provides a special thrill due to its fleeting nature. Hitting it just right requires a complex mixture of knowledge, intuition and luck. When it all comes together, it’s magic. By the time spring afternoons hit, it's slarving and slashing time in the ski area. Soft mogul popping and mini feature hopping send slush puppy face shots flying high while the sun sinks low.

But it isn’t just the snow that makes spring the best; perhaps even more important is the fun-loving, free-spirited vibe that comes rolling in with the warm weather. The springtime sun's elevated trajectory puts a fresh perspective on the future and creates a nearly indefinable feeling that enhances our sense of positivity. It must be the same neurochemical recipe that sent you giddy with your first grade-school crush because the promise of new beginnings and fresh adventures as the world awakens from its winter slumber stimulate you like an alpine aphrodisiac. The frisky energy fills the air as the ski scene reverts to and doubles down on its hedonistic roots of flirtatious exhibitionism and unabashed voyeurism. Inhibition wanes, and ski styles loosen up from the infectious nature of it all. Snow-chilled cheeks give off a sun-kissed glow, increasing your heart's tempo and making your smile grow. 

Entire days take on an après ski atmosphere in the springtime. It’s like the circus has rolled into town and everyone is going to join. Multiglissé mania breaks out for your viewing pleasure with backcountry speedwing flights, mono ski bumpin’, lofty BASE jumps, extreme snowler-blading and more. No one is excluded from the party as retro-clad cocktail debauchery keeps the less vertically motivated in the mix. This is the communal camaraderie that brought modern skiing to the American masses after World War II, and it still hits today. To be free from conventional cultural norms and in the mountains with your friends, digging the universe. It’s an exercise in absurdity, a cleansing of the soul. 

So, the next time you are faced with the question, "What’s your favorite season?” pause and consider the splendor of spring. It delivers hefty storms on top of deep base depths. Season-long, powder-strong legs can carry you through anything this time of the year, and satiated snow joneses make every additional air and face shot feel like a bonus. Each weightless moment lasts a little longer with the knowledge that the off-season is around the corner. It’s like your mind starts recording in HD, prepping for a full summer of internalized reruns. Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel doesn’t make you sad or upset, though; it imparts an awareness and gratitude that sweeten every sparkling slope sensation. Communal fun and flirtatious fall-line frolicking fill the long days, and vivid winter memories begin to form legends in our minds, seeding outlandish inspirations for the next fresh dream. Spring sits in the sweet afterglow of winter, a rare space where we can simultaneously reflect on and enjoy our ski passion to its fullest. When next autumn grips us with its parching heat, I’ll probably proclaim winter is once again my thing. But today I say, "Spring is king!"

Stio Mountain Athlete and Jackson Hole snow reporter Jeff Leger--aka Dr. Huckinstuff--moved to Jackson as a wide-eyed teenager with an insatiable appetite for deep powder skiing and moments of extended hang time. Immersed in ski culture through the tutelage of founding members of the Jackson Hole Airforce, all hopes of him returning to "reality" were quickly abandoned. Over the years, Jeff has become a fixture in the ski scene from his constant photo and video documentation of Jackson Hole's finest flotational moments.