MOUNT BACHELOR —

At the top, the choices are endless. But the challenges can seem insurmountable: steep, wind-battered slopes that, depending on the day, can feature ice chunks, wind slab, breakable crust, or stashes of powder.

Riding the backside or the Cirque Bowl from the summit of Mount Bachelor is what many expert skiers and snowboarders long for, getting as close to the backcountry experience as possible without actually being in the backcountry.

While the Cirque Bowl — a precipitous, double-black-diamond run off the north side of the summit — is a well-traveled area when the Summit chairlift is open, the backside, or south side, is a little more remote.

For snowriders looking to stay off the groomed runs and revel in an off-piste experience, the backside is the place to be.

“It’s as Mother Nature intended,” said Bob Spittler, assistant ski patrol manager at Mt. Bachelor ski area.

Conditions must be fairly clear for the Summit lift and the backside to be open. And even if the Summit chair is running, snow conditions could still keep the backside closed.

This past Monday, a sunny day with hard-snow conditions, Spittler and I rode up the Summit lift and headed down the backside. We traversed west on our skis, taking in the spectacular views of snow-covered lakes and buttes, and the rolling terrain of the western slope of the Cascade Mountains.

The trail on which we traversed cuts around the entire upper portion of the 9,065-foot mountain.

“There’s as much terrain on the backside as there is on the front side,” said Spittler, a ski patroller at Bachelor for 28 years. “It almost doubles our mountain size when we open the Summit. In reality, there is no mountain-approved name for anything back there. It’s all just local nicknames from patrol or skiing locals.”

For example, Larry Valley, a large bowl off Bachelor’s southeast side, is named after a former ski patroller and groomer who worked at the mountain some 35 years ago, before the Summit chairlift’s first season in 1982-83.

West of Larry Valley are the Moe and Curly bowls (think Three Stooges). Deadwood Canyon got its name from the dead hemlock trees bordering the east side of the run.

As we continued traversing, Spittler pointed out the Wall of Voodoo, a sort of mound with a 15-foot drop facing the mountain. Some snowboarders ride the feature like a natural halfpipe.

We dropped in just above the Northwest lift, working hard to turn through the wind-packed snow. Some locals call the sharp grooves and ridges formed by wind “chickenheads.” But ski patroller Gus Johnson has the scientific name: sastrugi.

“It’s the scalloping effect wind has on the snow,” Johnson said. “You get cardboard and all sorts of things.”

Sastrugi and all, Monday’s conditions were what Spittler called “educational.”

“It might not be the best, but you might learn something from it,” Spittler said. “Today we’ve got frozen and refrozen — melt-freeze cycle. It might soften up, but it’s not smooth. Today is variable conditions in an off-piste setting.”

Conditions can change drastically from one day to the next. Because Bachelor was pounded with 16 inches of new snow this week, and Summit opened to sunny skies on Thursday, it was no doubt an epic day on the backside.

The bonus of the backside is undeniable: 2,000 to 2,500 vertical feet of uninterrupted snowriding. Ungroomed, and with a limited number of snowriders, the backside offers beautiful, wide-open glades, followed by powdery routes through the trees, all with a consistent fall line.

“It can be phenomenal,” Spittler says. “You’re above the tree line; it’s not as crowded. It gives a wide-open experience, whereas most of our resort on the front side is in the tree line.”

The times I’ve hit the backside of Bachelor on the right day are the skiing memories that have lasted — deep powder through the vast bowls, and even deeper as you ride down into the trees.

But if there is only one thing to remember about skiing the backside, it is this: Do not miss the catch line. Marked every 40 feet with orange bamboo sticks and “Ski Area Boundary” signs, the catch line is seemingly impossible to miss. No matter how far east or west a snowrider goes from the top of the backside, he or she will hit the catch line, which runs 360 degrees around the base of the mountain.

Near the bottom of Larry Valley, the groomed, gravity-fed catch line is split east and west. Go east, and you will end up at the Rainbow chairlift. Head west, and you will find the Northwest chairlift. Cross the catch line, and you are out of bounds — and will likely end up lost.

Spittler said that on each of the first 10 days that the Summit lift was open this winter, a number of snowriders missed the catch line and had to be located by ski patrol. He advised backside riders to carry a cell phone and to not ski alone.

“They need to be advanced to expert skiers off the backside,” Spittler said. “If you get hurt, there’s no signage for designated runs. It can be difficult to locate an injured skier. It’s a large area. It can be a long and slow recovery. We (ski patrollers) carry flares for the backside, to pinpoint what bowl they’re in.”

In addition to safety concerns, snowriders looking for the freshest tracks off the backside — or anywhere off the Summit lift — should get there early. An hour or two after Summit opens on a bluebird powder day, most of the upper portion of the mountain, even the backside, will be scarred with tracks.

“Nowadays, the equipment and the efficiency of the skiers and riders has gotten better,” Spittler said. “There’s more interest in going off-piste and finding an un- groomed experience. That comes along with the equipment, and we have a high proficiency of skiers and boarders. You can make Summit-Northwest laps in 30 to 40 minutes.

“You better get there when it opens.”