On my third turn, with half our group below me looking up the treeless bowl and half the party above me standing on the cornice I'd just dropped off, my ski tips broke through the crusty wind slab into the soft powder below, and I did a head-first roll. I came up shaking snow out of my collar, my pants and sunglasses. Welcome to Monarch Snowcat Tours.

Last Friday, on an almost painfully bright, sunny day, I found myself standing atop the Continental Divide at an elevation of more than 12,000 feet in the staggeringly beautiful Sawatch Range of south-central Colorado surrounded by 13,000- and 14,000-foot peaks. I was part of a group of 10 skiers and two snowboarders, plus two guides, out for a day of adventure in the ungroomed steeps and deeps above Monarch Mountain Ski & Snowboard Area just 20 minutes west of Salida.

The resort's Bombardier snowcat (essentially a large metal box atop tanklike treads) had just dropped us off and lumbered away to the pickup point. It was showtime and we all wanted to look our best. Oh well. ... Over the course of the day and 12 runs we made, almost everyone — except the rock-steady guides — would make some silly move, crash and burn, and a warm camaraderie grew among the former strangers sharing in the glory of unbroken powder, brilliant blue skies and challenging skiing.

Noted Scott Peterson of Salida, "I love it, especially in the trees. It's quiet. There's solitude and it feels all yours." The marketing director for a local rafting company called River Runners, which launched in 1972 and specializes in Arkansas River excursions, added, "There's no other tracks, and it's like no one has ever been there before — you're the first to explore that line. Then it snows and it begins all over again."

We found our best tree lines in a run called No Name Trees, which offered up a 1,200-foot vertical drop over wind-sculpted berms and around the bases of large evergreens, the terrain sloping away at a nice, consistent angle. Most of the runs here are not huge — averaging 800 feet of vertical.

The greatest vertical drop was found on No Name Bowl, which started high above tree line. We had to hop off a 6- to 8-foot-tall cornice at the top and land on a steep slope — the site of several inglorious splats. Then it was creamy turns all the way to the bottom where we grouped up, followed by another leg through woods to where we found the warm cat — as always — waiting for us.

I hoisted myself into the front cabin to ride up with the operator, Steve McClung, who has been driving the $200,000-plus machines for 12 years. Looking at the vast array of levers and buttons and joy sticks — one of which could move the front "blade" in 12 different directions — I asked him how he mastered it. A man of few words, he said, "Mostly just training on the equipment — you just get in it and drive it."

Laying down the snow "roads" — they actually have names — is one of his most challenging tasks. He explained that they begin compacting the roadways as soon as possible — sometimes in September. As some of the exposed ridges have fierce winds that strip away the snow, he has to move downslope and "farm" snow from banks and push it up to the intended roads. So far, he's never tipped over, though once in preseason he got mired in some tractionless sugar snow and had to be pulled out by other cats. So what drew him to his work? "I was looking for something different after nine years of grooming."

For our lead guide, the hard-charging Kelly Millward, the appeal is "skiing backcountry, which gives you a sense of freedom and adventure." He has been a cat guide here since 1991, two years after the operation began. Growing up near Seattle, Millward skied a lot as a kid and noted, "Ever since I was 19 years old, it's all I've ever wanted to do. I first migrated east to Utah, where I spent two winters. I started out washing dishes at Snowbird and worked my way up, then landed my first patrol job at Snow Basin. It's my life — I'm a ski guy."

Our other guide, the graceful J.T. Fell with the GQ smile, said challenge is a big part of the appeal for him. He explained the guides have to have certification in Outdoors Emergency Care and in the use of explosives, as the 1,000-acre cat skiing area must be managed to prevent avalanches. Long before skiers arrive, the resort's ski patrol and guide corps lob hand-held charges into avalanche-prone areas to trigger small slides. "This is where I learned a lot of my backcountry, avalanche awareness. This has been my classroom."

Gail Bindner, now in her fourth season as snowcat manager and the head cat guide for seven years prior, said they have been fortunate there has been only one partial burial of a customer and a few injuries (including one death when a skier struck a large rock). But even a broken wrist or tweaked knee means an end to skiing that day, as evacuation in the remote bowls takes a few hours.

Cancellations are also rare. Occasional daylong white-outs, or spring warm-ups followed by cold temperatures but no snow, will result in closures. In that case, rebookings or refunds are offered.

Daniel Gibson can be reached at dbgibson@newmexico.com

IF YOU GO

A day of guided snowcat skiing runs $250. If you book the entire cat, discounts apply. Reservations are required, and booking months in advance is suggested. The season typically runs from mid-December through the end of the regular resort season (this year on April 12). Participants should be at least very capable intermediate skiers. The friendly, unpretentious resort, founded in 1939, has excellent in-bounds skiing, including some fantastic hike-to terrain in Mirkwood Basin. Monarch is about a four and a half hour drive from Santa Fe. For snowcat details, visit the Web site at www.skimonarch.com or call 888-996-7669.

Salida has many places to stay. About 45 minutes away is the terrific Mount Princeton Hot Springs Resort. Recommended places to eat in Salida include The Laughing Ladies and the excellent Butcher's Table.