In search of powder: Erzurum, Turkey

Jonny Richards has skied all over the world, but his most fun, adventure-packed trip in recent years took him somewhere unexpected—Erzurum, Turkey. With deep powder, endless descents, and cat-skiing at a fraction of the cost of traditional destinations, this trip delivered big snow and even bigger thrills.
By Jonny Richards, editor-at-large
My best turns? Hmmm, maybe not quite, with Niseko always winning that. But definitely my favourite action from the last few years has come via Turkey. I know, seemingly ridiculous. But in my view, it really is the most fun (with a big dash of adventure), for the best price, that you can have on skis at the moment.
Sell-me-a-carpet-and-some-spices do they get some snow in eastern Anatolia too. It was snowing when I arrived at Erzurum airport last February, then once cat-skiing in the nearby Kackars (more of that in a moment) it went something like 40cm overnight, another 60cm within 36 hours, then a monster 70cm by noon the following day.
That’s far from a one-off storm in this part of the world too. And last time here in 2021, Fall Line again got bashed (in the best possible way) by a metre of fresh across three days; while the average annual snowfall stats for higher elevations are a fabulous 11m-plus.
Ok, not quite on a par with the aforementioned north of Japan (and Niseko’s fabled 15m yearly totals), but still tasty, and easily Alps-beating in terms of powder. Plus, Turkey (and this not-far-from-the-Black-Sea spot) is also a whole lot closer, and cheaper, than Asia.
Just how budget-friendly? Well, book in with Turkey Snowcats as I did, and you’re looking at just €1,590 (€1,890 peak season), which is less than half of what you’d pay for an equivalent British Columbia-type traditional cat trip.
In fact, all you need to buy extra here is the odd beer and flights, with daily options via Turkish Airlines or Pegasus, so even factoring in things like ski carriage, you’re still under £2,000. Marvellous.
“It really is the most fun, for the best price, that you can have on skis at the moment.”
It’s not totally without compromise: this is the Middle East, after all! And you’ll most definitely need to park any ideas of North American-style luxury when booking in for a stay at the remote Olgunlar pension (with the bathrooms in particular from a land time, and plumbing, forgot).
But who cares, when the welcome is warm, the food hearty, the sheets clean, and best of all, two Pisten Bully 600 models (thanks to a spare on standby just in case of mechanical issues) sit outside the front door?
Notably, you also get four days of cat action, rather than the full week some operators offer; with two warm-up days to begin the trip at 120 minutes away, Palandoken.
That’s far from awful given the resort is one of Turkey’s best – think 28 runs, 43km of slopes, and a mountain dotted with high-speed lifts and even a gondola. Plus, you can always pay extra to swap out a guided Palandoken day for more cat time…
Whatever you decide (and we’ll be publishing a more in-depth report later in the season), the Erzurum start is most definitely a good thing, with the airport close (20 minutes), the mountain under 10km away, and the 400,000-strong city offering exactly what you won’t be getting later in the week, i.e. a vibrant local scene and swanky hotel.
Back to those all-important trails and turns, think the country’s longest ski run (seven-and-a-half miles) below Palandoken’s 3,180m peak, while once in the Pontic range, prepare for multiple 1,000m descents below the mighty 3,931m Kackar Dagi.
Nothing was too steep or exhausting during my stay (think six to eight runs a day, depending on how much touring or boot-packing you fancy). But that slightly conservative approach – we still took on plenty of bowls, gullies and trees – may simply have been because the avalanche risk was so high.
Guide Yildrim was probably right to be cautious, as two buildings were wiped out in the valley just below us. As a result, on our final day, with the access road still blocked by avalanche debris, we toured out, dragging our bags by sled like some sort of demented polar-exploring crew.
Like I’ve said in the magazine previously, this place is wild, in the best possible way.