Lovely to watch the light powdery snow being lifted by the breeze then swish and swirl across the road. Then anxiety flashed into my dreamy thoughts as I warmed up in the van after an afternoon of trudging up and down the slopes, snowshoeless: if I happened to fall back and lose sight of my companions, this lovely drifting powdery snow would soon cover up our fresh, knee-deep tracks, making it impossible to distinguish the path back to the van from the older paths that occasionally crisscrossed the vast expanse of land around us. A sobering thought as the warming cognac was passed around.
This is what some of Altai’s countless unskied slopes looked like a few weeks ago. Something tells me that most of them are too remote to ever become crowded ski resorts, but you never can tell.