It's getting late. It has been dark for hours and the number of High Lifes is dwindling, a scenario too saddening to track. There is tension in the air as Danny focuses. Mark comes in with a pot of snow and puts it on the stove to melt. His footsteps send vibrations all the way to the top of the teetering jenga tower, and Danny pulls his hand away, eyes large, hoping the vibraions don't topple blocks on his turn again. They don't.
In the morning we will be riding the southies we checked out the day before. It has been cold and the snow is still in good shape. With all the avalanche danger we are a little on edge, but there are enough covered south-facing beauties below 10,000 ft. to send the endorphins to my brain.
The yurt is a special experience, combining the beauty of the movement of riding snow, with communal living in tight quarters with good people to create an experience that will not be adaquately explained here. With eight people living in a ten foot radius area for multiple days, sharing the cooking, cleaning, eating, skinning and riding, where the joys are well understood within the group and difficult to relay to any outsider, the itricacies of all these relationships, the small things, the nuances, they become a future of good memories.
Thanks to Danny, Glenda, Drew, Tara, Nate, Mark and Romero!
