TR: More of the same and Then something completely different

[laseranimal]

well not exactly

2/23/07

Once again the alarm clock rouses me with its annoying beeping

I glance over a the numbers 4....5.....0 damn its early, but it was snowing last night, which means fresh tracks, and nothing gets me more excited then an early morning climb when there's going to be a perfect canvas to lay down some turns.

I had already gone through the trouble of packing up all the stuff I'd need just in case the dawn patrol urge should hit and to make sure I didn't miss anything in my pre-conscious awake moments it was already in the car, the only thing I had to remember was my boots, which were attached to my skis sitting right next to the car keys.

Boots remembered I'm on my way through the unplowed streets(I guess plow drivers don't get up that early). I'm not making great time but sunrise isn't until 6:45 which means it isn't going to be light enough to ski for another 40 minutes(little dawn patrol tip, you can ski before the sun comes up, thus maximizing your turns to time ratio).

With no further adventures on the road, I arrive to find the trailhead empty. Smiling at the thought of all the backcountry skiers who are snuggled in their warm beds dreaming of powder turns, I step out of my car and into a howling windstorm, so much for warm fuzzy dreams.

Deftly quick, I throw my boots on already attached to the skis which were skinned the night before(I'm all about efficiency) I buckle up and start climbing into the milkshake morning



The weather is damp and cold, the type of cold that manages to find its way inside of your jacket and boots. To me the damp wet cold is worse then the wind because the wind will give you at least a brief respite from its torment. But a damp cold just stays with you every step of the way.

The ascent is slowed by the 4-5 inches of new snow that has covered the uptrack, and my un-warmed muscles scream in protest with each lurching step forwards. I try to take solace in the beauty around me, as sometimes I can distract myself from the suffering by taking in the world around me, but this morning is the exception. The trees with their covering of new snow and without any illumination from the sun, stand bland, cold, and silent. At this moment, my world literally exists in black and white.



Mercifully the agony ends as I reach the large bush, why it's there, sitting in the middle of the ski trail, which has been cleared every summer by the hordes of local backcountry skiers has always been puzzling to me. But its always been the transition point from uphill to downhill for as long as I've been skiing here and today is no exception.

I take a moment to catch my breath, sip from my water bottle, and dig out my goggles before the tried and true ritual of flip, snap, and rip as I get ready to head downhill.

Kicking away from the bush, I pull my goggles over my eyes and drop in, happy to let gravity do the heavy lifting for a while, and for my efforts I'm rewarded with 6-8 inches of wind drifted powder that has covered and compacted the mashed potatoes we had been skiing into a firm solid base. My earlier tours had left me with survival turns on chunky, unforgiving snow, but now I finally have the chance to let the skis run. They delight in the light touch at the reigns and reward me by churning the snow spray up to my knees.

Intoxicated by my first run, I begin breaking trail up the hill once more, stopping briefly to admire my tracks.


The skintrack up is long and painfully arduous as once again I'm breaking trail, further adding to my suffering is the realization that I'm either going to have to lose quality vertical in order to traverse across to my car, or have to break trail a third time to get out of the basin and reach the car. Neither option sounds particularly inviting as I glance at my watch and realize that there might be a third option that I hadn't considered. If I hurry I can take a lap then use the track I'm currently setting and catch the traverse back to the car maxing out both my vertical and number of runs.

I reach the bush and drop in for more of the same, surfing down the slope marveling how much can change in a few simple days, and relishing my own private powder stash. I try to control myself and spoon my tracks leaving some fresh snow for the latecomers, but halfway down the skis beg me to peg the throttle and I oblige slashing huge arcs across the run. To paraprase the immortal words of Cloris Leachman: "those who are late, will get no pow turns"



I squeeze every last inch of vertical out before once again returing to the ruthlessness of the uphill climb. But the ease of a broken track confirms my wisdom, and I make great time to the top of the traverse trail and spoil myself with yet another decent on a blank canvas of white.



Physically spent from just under 15,000 feet of earned vert in the last week, I climb out of my gear and into my car, but before heading to work I allow myself a sigh of contentment. Dawn patrols can be hard on the body, but also on the brain. Skiing isn't usually something we do on a schedule, its our free time and we have all the time in the world to enjoy it with our friend. A dawn patrol is the antithesis of this normal skiing. You're skiing on the clock trying to maximize your yield before slinking back to the real world and the only thing to keep you company are your thoughts. Its a lonely addiction to be sure, and there are some mornings where I question my sanity for doing it, but on days like today it makes all those early mornings worth it.

2/24/07

And now for something COMPLETELY different

After logging some serious mileage the past week, I decided to sleep in and head up to the Mountaineer in Keene to get a pair of skis mounted. I had planned on doing some slide skiing while I was up there, but was informed at the Mountaineer that the slide I had planned on skiing was locked and loaded, and waiting for some poor sucker to trigger it. Bummed, but not entirely surprised I decided to bag it and head home after waiting for my skis to get mounted. Upon arriving home the temptation of newly mounted skis, and the lure of the hill in my front yard was too much for my willpower.

What follows is an epic account of the 1st through 50th decents of the front lawn face.

Minianimal on the really wide skintrack


Climbing, note minianimal in perfect belay position


Minianimal ascends the knife ridge of the snowpile col


only 15 miles to go before we're back at the trailhead


It should be noted that despite the breakable crust, minianimal managed to stay on top the whole time


kid just flies on the skintrack, he's a future rando racer for sure


even the best sometimes fall down


success!!!, now all we need is juice and beer to celebrate

[gravitylover]

Man you're killin' me here.



Ahh well, that's (part of) what this place is all about, living vicariously.

As for minianimal, I have skis/boots for him for next year. Couple of beers sometime and then a full picture laden TR of him learning to use them and we'll be good

[Orphic Seth]

YeeeeHA Brotha' Man! Way to get some.

[powstash]

Dawn patrols can be hard on the body, but also on the brain. Skiing isn't usually something we do on a schedule, its our free time and we have all the time in the world to enjoy it with our friend. A dawn patrol is the antithesis of this normal skiing. You're skiing on the clock trying to maximize your yield before slinking back to the real world and the only thing to keep you company are your thoughts. Its a lonely addiction to be sure, and there are some mornings where I question my sanity for doing it, but on days like today it makes all those early mornings worth it.

Truer words have not been spoken. Pretty much nailed the DP on the head here. Welcome to the brotherhood. There's no turning back.

[SummerSux]

Looks like Mini has some lift tickets already clipped to his jacket......suite