WE KNOW THAT VIGOROUS activity, in the form of sports, creates an array of benefits: good heart health, weight control, and a balanced emotional life. But, personally speaking, I am intrigued by the way that sports reveals the true measure of an individual. I once played racquetball with a casual acquaintance who I tended to think of as generally self-absorbed, petty, and not particularly. Suitable company for an hour of bashing the ball around, but nobody I was going trust with any investments.
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| [gone for California] |
Our skills matched up well and the level of our games improved on roughly the same arc. Simon (not his real name) was a focused player who ferociously challenged every point. He fought to the
last drop of sweat or gram of energy to beat you, and was childishly jubilant when he won, though never gloating at the expense of his adversary. And when the points didn’t go his way, Simon was a gracious loser, never putting the blame on his racquet, the lights, the court. When a call was close, he usually conceded the point. So over the course of our playing relationship, I noticed a turnabout on my opinion of the man. Through the crucible of intensely wrought competition, I observed a guy who I had came to admire and even regard with a kind of affection.
This story is to preface a turn of events that has completely changed this ski season for me. My friend Brad, a durable and skilled backcountry companion, and a figure in many of these blog entries, has been forced by this devastating job market to give up his Wasatch home and relocated for work in The Bay area. From our first meeting, I recognized Brad as a cheerful, generous, and reliable fellow. But it was through the process of skiing, climbing, and biking together that I came to recognize his more enduring qualities: an uncommon civility and gregariousness, calm under fire, and a keen mind for the nuances of personality and character
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| [the payoff] |
Safely climbing and skiing these mountains is a formidable undertaking. Grinding uphill, sometimes for hours on end with a 15 or 20 pound back, on heavy skis and boots, often in brutal weather – this is no pursuit for the casual recreationalist. But the pay-off comes in the opportunity to ski snow and terrain that would normally be prohibited within the bounds of most ski areas. The backcountry also presents many hazards, not the least of which are avalanches, frostbite, treed terrain, and unarrested plunges down glassy chutes. People who will hold your life at the end of a 9 millimeter rope must be proven for skill, reliability, and good judgment. In my friend Brad Carroll, these characteristics were only completely revealed through many hard days crossing the Wasatch, Sierras, Rainier, and the Alps. It’s the pursuit of sports, at its extreme boundaries, that brings out these traits.
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| [new cohort - David, Tom, Sue] |
Brad has this genius for picking up conversations with completely strangers, and since meeting on an airport parking shuttle in 2003, we have skied and climbed hundreds of days together. Though he may have moved to the more civil flats of the Bay tideline, I am sure we will ski and climb again. Still, an era has passed and my days in the mountains will never be quite the same
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I have taken up with a new cohort in the backcountry. Returning to Utah from a circular tour of New York and Vermont, I hooked up with David Kliger, a convert from the miserable ski rinks of Northern New England, and two of his Connecticut friends, Sue and Tom. Highly agreeable folks and skilled skiers with a helpful and informed wariness of backcountry travel.
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| [Sue and Dave at minus 8] |
With minus eight and ten degree temps on February 2nd, we layered up and found good snow in the Rocky Point and Dry Creek drainage off the back of Alta’s Supreme Lift. February 4th was milder (slightly) with a stellar plunge down Holy Toledo, then shits-and-giggles-good laps off the north side of Benson Ridge. Though I have seen enough to trust their skills and mountain judgement, I haven’t skied enough days with them to fill out a true picture of their temper and nature. But that will come. You know, sports has a way of doing that.
Days' Vertical: 3,100 and 3,000 Season to Date: 54,500
Two days earlier, John and I did just that. We started out from the upper Alta Parking lot, headed for East Silverfork. However two hundred yards into the ascent, John’s Dynafit heel tower snapped. But thanks to a quick repair at Black Diamond, Retail Manager Dennis Maw saved the day and we were back on our way into the mountains via Big Cottonwood to enjoy a steep, untracked descent off the backside of Short Swing, north of the Spruces area. Another day enjoyed, thanks to the kindness of good friends.
