Skiing.
Today was one of those priceless sunny and calm days at Glenn Alps. There was fresh snow covering everything; it looked like an artist's nightmare (although maybe real artists are more optimistic about depicting snowscapes). Being aware that it could be my last ski up to Powerline Pass of the year without fighting a monstrous headwind I was loath to turn around. So I didn't. I kept skiing.
I skied past the point where my girls team turned around, past the point where my boys team turned around, past where Dylan's tracks turned back, along a faded track from before last night's snowfall, until those tracks too stopped to make an asterisk in the snow and disappeared into themselves for their return path. I skied through the sparkling and untouched snow, past chortling ptarmigans, a few of whom the winter white seemed to have caught by surprise. I skied over snow dunes and among plebeian shrubs looking regal in their ermine fur coats. Although enjoying the sun rise over the mountains I skied before the dawn into the shadows at the very base of Powerline Pass. I skied into five runs of (admittedly very bad) tele turns and through seven layers of kick wax. I prayed to stay ahead of the cloud of snow dust licking up the legs of my shadow as I descended the upper valley. I skied into the whispered, hissing conversation between my skis as they returned to smoother tracks without interrupting them. It was a day to rekindle my passion for skiing.
The Glenn Alps parking lot.
Ky Eiben waiting for a calf to follow mother moose across the trail.
The train of APU skiers headed home in the lower left corner.
I skied past the point where my girls team turned around, past the point where my boys team turned around, past where Dylan's tracks turned back, along a faded track from before last night's snowfall, until those tracks too stopped to make an asterisk in the snow and disappeared into themselves for their return path. I skied through the sparkling and untouched snow, past chortling ptarmigans, a few of whom the winter white seemed to have caught by surprise. I skied over snow dunes and among plebeian shrubs looking regal in their ermine fur coats. Although enjoying the sun rise over the mountains I skied before the dawn into the shadows at the very base of Powerline Pass. I skied into five runs of (admittedly very bad) tele turns and through seven layers of kick wax. I prayed to stay ahead of the cloud of snow dust licking up the legs of my shadow as I descended the upper valley. I skied into the whispered, hissing conversation between my skis as they returned to smoother tracks without interrupting them. It was a day to rekindle my passion for skiing.
The Glenn Alps parking lot.
Ky Eiben waiting for a calf to follow mother moose across the trail.
The train of APU skiers headed home in the lower left corner.
5 Comments:
Sounds quite amazing. I'm jealous.
After being a bit remiss in your posting frequency you go and get all sensitive on the faithful. Thanks for the post.
Awesome. I got a righteous evening ski up there last Wednesday... before Thursday's warm up. For October 8th I'm not sure it could have been better.
I think I might actually get in shape this year. Well, okay, relatively fit for a mid 40's redneck.
Keep the posts coming. Really enjoy the pictures too.
Wow. Great pictures, even greater text. I'm envious, too. Can't wait for snow!
anon- yeah... I'm not actually as tough as I usually act, thanks for reading!
james- rock on. I think we're going to scope out hatcher pass tomorrow so there should be more photos coming as that is one of the most scenic skis around here.
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