Turnagain Pass: Rocket Sleds and Epic Shreds
- Luke
- May 13
- 3 min read
Updated: May 18
Turnagain Pass is Alaska’s worst-kept secret for snowmachining. Massive bowls, powdery stashes, and weather that’s usually cooperative make it a mecca for riders, skiers, and speedflyers. The pass is split like a messy divorce: riders on one side, skiers on the other. Everyone’s chasing the same thrill, though—epic lines and bragging rights.
The 2024/25 winter was stingy with snow, but higher elevations got hammered with enough storms to keep things respectable. The catch? All the good riding lurks beyond Seattle Ridge. No biggie, right? Except when you’re wrestling a 450-pound mountain sled built for glory, not reliability. The sun dips fast in Alaska’s winter, and when it does, the cold and isolation creep in like uninvited guests.
Early Season Shenanigans
Zach and I hit Turnagain right after it opened, buzzing with that first-ride-of-the-season energy. Snow was thin but consistent, only getting windblown where the gusts threw their weight around. We zipped up to Pyramid Peak for a quick photo sesh, then dove into Jrs Bowl to play. Heavy winds from the days before had sculpted snow-crusted trees that looked straight out of a postcard. I strapped on the drone for some sick footage, while Zach roasted my goofy goggles. “Dude, you look like a rejected sci-fi villain,” he cackled. Fair play—I got him back by mocking his sled’s habit of getting stuck every quarter mile. Gotta keep the vibes balanced.
Jr's Bowl was a blast. The snow was prime, and my Arctic Cat was shredding like a dream. That C-TEC 2 engine, paired with a single rail and a grippy track, feels like strapping a rocket to your hips. There’s a dirty joke in there, but I’ll let you fill in the blanks. We spent an hour highmarking the faces, machines roaring, adrenaline pumping. I was on my 20th highmark—yep, GPS-tracked like a nerd—when disaster struck. My clutch didn’t just fail; it exploded. I’m talking a full-on Michael Bay meltdown. Shrapnel took out my toe guard, footrest, side panel—everything within two feet. My sled went from rocket ship to pricey lawn ornament in seconds.
The Great Sled Rescue
If you’ve never been to Turnagain, here’s the deal: you ride from the parking lot, haul up a sketchy uptrack to Seattle Ridge, then drop into the bowls on the other side. It’s all fun until you need to climb back over the ridge to your truck. Deep snow can make that a slog even with a working sled. With a blown clutch? You’ve got a 450-pound paperweight. Zach and I sized up our mess and tried towing, but his sled was missing key track hardware, and we quickly realized we were doomed. So began the long, cozy ride out, with me and Zach closer on his sled than two sardines in a can. Romantic? Hardly. Hilarious? Absolutely.
Shoutout to Alpine Air, the real MVPs. I sent them the sled’s coordinates, and by noon the next day, they’d helicoptered it out like it was no big deal. Months of waiting on parts later—pro tip: don’t buy sleds from companies circling the drain—my Alpha was back in action.
Spring Slush and Sketchy Slides
The last ride of the season was a different beast. Zach, Brian, and I went out for some spring riding, but avalanche conditions had us on edge, especially after I triggered a small slide earlier that day. No thanks, Mother Nature. We stuck to the flats on the southeast side of Seattle Ridge, ripping around in slushy spring corn. Zach, true to form, spent half the day digging his sled out. Some things never change.
Turnagain’s Wild Heart
All said, it was a killer season. Turnagain Pass remains a wild, accessible gem that hooks you with its stellar riding and spits you out with stories to tell. From exploding clutches to spring slush, it’s never dull. Can’t wait to see what next year brings—here’s hoping for deeper snow and fewer mechanical meltdowns. Who’s joining us?
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