The juxtaposition between the comfort of the office environment from which I type this post vs that of the alpine couloir I was in just 30 hours ago is, in simple terms, strange. Yesterday, my body and mind traveled from a precipitous 50 degree ski run to the comfort of my home in a few hours. It makes me think that perhaps the alpinists of old had it better than me and my contemporaries in that both the ascent and descent from civilization took longer, and thus, an easier time for their brains to adjust; they enjoyed more time spent in the mountains. Now, these quick trips into the backcountry feel like the extreme version of a ying-yang circle of existence, polar opposites that somehow placate one-another. Obviously, I’d take more time spent in wilderness, but I won’t complain about time I’ve enjoyed therein.
This past week I had the great fortune to find time to ski with good friends in the mountains of Idaho on two different outings. On both occasions, we were able to enjoy nights spent on the ground and days in the open (to paraphrase Doug Robinson). The weather contradicted itself wonderfully in that we traveled through snow squalls, enjoyed blue bird skies so calm lakes became mirrors, heard Sand Hill Cranes echo their mating calls from marshes into a myriad of canyons, and found silence unlike any other. The snow was good, if not great, and the camaraderie unparallelled.
Here a few images from these adventures….