1,540 m · the manifest
Put your name on the board
No account, no checkout, no ten-step form. Tell us who you are and which week you want, and a guide writes back within a day to sort out the details. If you would rather talk it through, the lodge phone rings a real person.
The inquiry
1,540 m · what we ask, and why
Every answer buys you a better week
The prep sheet is not paperwork. It is how twelve strangers end up in the right cats, on the right runs, eating the right dinner, with nobody towed and nobody held back.
Which line you are
Groups are matched by honest answers, not egos. First-weekers get the mornings built around learning; the seasoned get the Horn. Nobody tows, nobody waits.
How many of you
Group size decides which cat you ride and whether your crew gets its own. Tell us early and your seats sit together.
Skis or board
The guides pick lines that ride well for what is on your feet: boards get fall-line glades, not flat traverses.
The A-Star box
If the weather opens a flying day, the manifest is already drafted and you are on it, instead of hearing about it at dinner.
The rentals box
The shed sets fat skis and boards aside with your name on them before you arrive. No morning scramble, no wrong sizes.
Diets and the rest
Sofie cooks for the table, not a buffet. Allergies, birthdays, a nervous partner: the lodge that knows, prepares.
And the two worries everyone has: if weather grounds the A-Star, heli days convert to cat days and the difference is refunded. Deposits are plain math, stated up front, no fine print with teeth.