| Skister Weekend
Roses are Red.
Maroon Peak is also Red.
Poems are Hard.
Swinging the pack on for the first time of the trip…the first of several stream crossings soon to follow.
Although the snow started promptly after stream one, the beginning of the trek was not without some short sections of dry tooling.
A mellow climb to start was pleasant enough...
…and the views were quite nice, as the Green Hornet would attest to.
Heading down before heading up. Snowmass stage left.
Stream hop number two. My formative years as a country club waiter pay off.
Over the river and through the woods, our objective comes into view for the first time. It’s not Grandma’s house. Not this Skister.
Twelve four ninety admires my Gladpad (patent pending) as we shuffle by. I never got Steve to sign it, alas.
Looking back from whence we had come from
Approaches grow longer, shadows grow taller
Close enough. Backcountry gear bombs explode in concert. Ka-Boom!
Sunset. Nightfall. Moonlight. Dreams...
Skister Sunday. The approach resumes.
ATjb (the skier formerly known as telejb) concocts a clever, contouring course.
The high reaches of the basin granted us the opportunity to feel small…
...teeny tiny even! (read with Snagglepuss panache)
We then strapped pointy things to our hands and feet and climbed and stuff:
My partners are fast…
…and I am slow…
…but they let me catch up when things get steeper, which is nice
And what’s this? A surprise gift of Mini Eggs! Happy Skister Michelle!
Snow Cap Beta
This next part is my favorite…
A true Skister celebration!
ATjb. He lives to ski.
On the apron and below conditions were rather fraverable, and the silky slide back to camp was much enjoyed. However, if the any of the preceding photos have somehow led you to believe that the skiing was good up higher, then I have hoodwinked and bamboozled you. On the contrary, the snow conditions above 12,500 feet were quite poor, for skiing. If you decide to ski this right now, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.
Back thru camp and on our way
aggressive skier + tired legs + willows =
This last part is my least favorite: The Unending Road of Unending.
Back across the stream before dark, at least. Now, let the agony begin...
My tiny light attempts in vain to keep up with the machines that I call friends. Each and every one of my strides was a small Skister miracle at this point.
Still Skister Sunday, but barely. I don’t think this photo could have come out much more appropriately.
Twas a fine trip, all things considered. Skiing in the couloir seems better than it actually was with each passing hour...and as brutal as that road was, it’s absolutely amazing to me how a day or two removed from the suffering can make it allllll better.
The End. Happy Skister!