Day 11- Anaerobic Short Swing

This season is proving not as good as the last. Oh well, says I. There is always something to do in the backcountry. One of my faves, especially when I don't have the time for a propoer tour or when conditions are sub-stellar, is the anaerobic jaunt. Actually it isn't a jaunt at all. Does it count as an eating disorder if you work so hard that you vomit? I dn't know, but there is probably an argument for some kind of disorder at least, though I am convicned that there are benefits to taxing your cardiovascular system by redlining it for an hour or so.

Last year my best time on Short Swing road-to-road was 75 mins. I recruited Nate to the idea of trying it out. He and I did a run a few months ago of about the same exertion and had good pace with each other. Plus, I've been talking smack to him about how much faster I am than he is, and how he should train as much as he can beforehand so that I beat him by less when we race each other in the Powderkeg. He's a youngster. I'm trying to keep him in line. I'm planning on bringing him to his knees, puking in the snow.

At the start, less than a few minutes into the skinning, he is going for the pass. I push it to the next level to keep up, not knowing if I'll be able to sustain that rate for the steep uphill coming soon. I want to talk more smack, but I am gasping for air and know that I will fall further behind if I waste my breath choking out words that he won't hear anyway because of the headphones. Once we hit the uphill, one of his earbuds falls out, and I pass him, needlessly, since once I am past him he is right on me again. I let him pass. His pace is brutal, but that is what today is about. I hold back the vomit, and try not to let the pace slack as Nate gets a bit further and further ahead.

I won't bother with an explanation of the downhill, other than to say I probably looked like a drunk clown flopping through the aspens, as my legs couldn't operate normally. I met up with Nate at the road, he was a few minutes ahead of me, but my time was 58:04, seventeen minutes off of last year's best. I attribute that to the power of group dynamic and synergy, when you add one and one and get 2.3, or maybe even 2.4. Thanks for pulling me along Master Nater! I'm still going to kick your trash when it comes to a real race! (I was just holding back this time to boost your young ego!)

Day 9- Reynolds

After the unfortunate avalanche death at a resort and repeated warnings of a dire nature from the avalanche forecast center, a lot of folks stayed home or skied low-angle trees. We went lower elevation south face. The south face doesn't have much of the layer that is producing slides, and there has been a lot of snow lately that is building up on these slopes and hasn't seen too much sun. We skied the south face of Mt. Reynolds. A first for all of us in the group. It was pretty good, and would be better with a few more feet of snow. So, check out the video of Andrew and listen to him hack off the tops of scrub oak with his board. Unfortunately this clip doesn't have the upper section, which was purdy darn deep and velvety and worth the hike, but not really worth a second round I guess because we up and went to a different shot afterward without any hesitation. Those shots are in the photo, along with an avalanche that was sympatheically released by a skier named Tyler who reportedly outran the avalanche.

Day 7- Montreal Hill

Even though we started skinning around 8 AM, there was already a skintrack all the way to the top. On the way up, we analyzed the number of pole holes trying to determine the size of the party, as well as any down tracks to subtract from that number. I can't remember what we deduced. I know that I was wrong, but that's nothing new. It was obvious once we reached the bottom of the run, and could see the entirety of Montreal Hill. There were two skiers, and they we just starting down their run. They saw us as well. Next thing I knew it was mad dash to get up the trail first.

Of course, the skiers were cool and there was no need to rush. The coolest part was when the guy started telling us what a good skintrack they had put up. I know where the guy is coming from. Everyone likes to have his/her work admired and respected. It was a good skintrack, for the most part, except for where it went through the trees and the roots pushed you one way and the braches the other. Drew said the hardest part of the day was getting out of the tree pit when the awkward V3 skin move pushed him down. I wish I could have seen it. There are few funnier things than someone stuck in a tree pit.

We hear them on top of our second lap. The ceaseless "wup-wup-wup-wup" of the rotors send anger from my brain to every part of my body. This was the first time for any of us on Montreal Hill, mainly because this is the first stop on the Powderbirds Heliskiing tour. Now, they were coming to poach our lines. I see them coming over Poleline Pass, and with a few quick switchbacks I am standing on the ridgetop at the start of the run, giving them the single-finger salute at full attention. They fly over, see us, and fly off to another spot in the drainage. We know they'll be back. The avalanche danger today is high, leaving few spots that are safe for them to ski. The favorite one of the heli-maggots is the one we are standing over. The group of Drew, Tyler, Jade and me regroup on the ridge. We take our time with the change-over, and are still on top when they make the next fly-by. We salute again, this time from a relaxed position.

We ride the snow and it is beautiful. This is the pinnacle of existence, to ski untracked, soft and fluffy powder snow. I can hear the snow collapse under me with the tell-tale "whoopf," but this slope is not steep enough to slide, and the sound propels me down a little faster.

Day 5- Upper Days

"Whoopf!"

I recognize the sound. Knowing I was on a steep slope I was already moving when I heard Drew's voice yelling, "Avalanche!!!" Three quick steps and I was behind a big pine, leaning into it, waiting. Only a few seconds pass before snow is tumbling past my ski tips on its quick trip to the bottom of the run.

It was the second of three that we knocked off that day. This one was bigger and faster than we had expected. Our protocol wasn't perfect. Luckily it was all still managable and gave us the head check we needed to ski smart to stay alive. This year's snowpack will prove to be exciting, and we will need to have our heads about us!

Check out the video of the third one on my face book page.

Day 4- Grizzly Gulch

Obviously I wasn't the only on with the idea. If I wasn't solo I would go another route. But now I am too far into it, and the danger is high enough that there is some security in the fact that if I go down, someone will find me soon enough. When did the backcountry become so popular? It is a lot of work, enough that I think most people would be kept away. And the cold! Especially today! Wouldn't all of these people be more comfortable drinking cocoa at the Gold Miner's Daughter? I keep going. I pass many groups doing avalanche training. They dig pits that are two feet deep before hitting the ground. Choss-crust-pow. Every pit. Choss-crust-pow. At least I am moving. They have to be freezing just standing around listening to instruction.

As I get to Michigan City, I can see at least twenty people in the area. It is like a resort without the lifts. I skin quickly to the top of Patsy Marley and take my homerun to the car. Short tour today.

Day 3- Meadow Chutes

Sunshine. It is better to skin when the sun is out than when the cold wind blows snow in your face and there is no sign of it quitting. The sunshine lets me skin without an extra jacket and a hat, and to see the others further down the skintrack, advancing upward, smiling, taking in the celestial love. Day three was all sunshine and twelve inches of powder on top of a nasty rain crust. Underneath the rain crust is the faceted layer, one that will haunt the year with avalanches I'm afraid. Sunshine is also better than avalanches.

Nate and I skin ahead and put lines in the fresh snow. By the time we establish an up track we meet with Danielle, Shane and the man who fired me from REI all those years ago- Mike. We joke about it now. It is far in the past and exactly what I needed to happen when it did. Now, we are skiing together. If he were buried in the snow, I would dig him out. We all put our mark on the hill, one at a time, like delicate strokes from the artist on the canvas of the hillside.

The next day I skied at Solitude. I didn't realize how wonderfully framed our tracks are from the top of the Eagle lift. On every ride up I see people oogling over the marks in the snow across the drainage. I hear someone say, those look so good. I smile and think, "It was. It was so good."