In Utah, a majority of the population sleeps in or heads to church on Sundays. I decided to rise early and head to my own place of worship.  However, instead of one steeple, I stood amongst a dozen snow-clad spires and gazed towards the heavens.  As the tiny, white, angels fell from the sky, I knew it was going to be a great day.  My usual cathedrals reside in Little Cottonwood Canyon, but today I joined the congregation at Snowbasin for a morning of soul shredding.