Same Old

Just another boring photo dump. No words really.

The Stove

Another Verstovia pano.

Since I have been doing a ton of snow boarding lately, I thought why not do a post on it. The last couple of days has been spent in class, and in the backcountry (which is always teaching me new things, so its kind of like class as well).
At the beginning of the season (November 2011), my good friend Dana showed me the wonders that lie on top of Mt. Verstovia. In fact, Dana, Steph, and I have all taken the liberty of leaving our boards strapped to a tree at the treeline of Mt. Verstovia (let's just call it 'the Stove', okay?). It was a wise decision indeed since we have gone snowboarding literally every weekend for the past 3 months (barring a couple weekends)!!


The man, the myth, the LEGEND!! Steve R. on a patented Stove run.

Just this past few days I have had the good fortune to get out two times in three days! This last trip being an exceptional one. The stage: A beautiful blue bird Sunday morning with slight hints of Winter's mischief clinging to eaves and gutters in the town. Upon arriving at the first stop, Picnic Rock (elev. 2,550), I stood and gazed down at the immaculate bowl of the Stove. It looked like I had the absolute privilege of sharing it with only two other boarders, Steve Rifenstuhl (a local legend) and his equally awesome and outdoorsy wife Adriana. They were kind enough to have gotten up hours before me in order to break a very nice trail up this behemoth of a mountain.


Deep powder in the bowl.

The weariness from the 1.5 hour trek up to picnic rock left my body instantaneously as I gazed over the perfection the Stove had to offer and I strapped my board on and had a pretty decent run down into the belly of the Stove. From there I followed suit and started the 'Mt. Doom' walk up to a good drop in point.




I had only been in this 'heaven among earth' once so I decided to get as high as I could. I just kept walking and walking until the pre-broken trail stopped a few hundred feet short of the summit. On my way up I had spied an incredible and untouched run that included a killer cliff drop off a snow bank. I positioned myself directly above this feature and strapped in. Epinephrine filled my veins. My heart started to beat even faster than it had in order to get me to where I was; staring straight down the mouth of a terrifyingly good time. I dropped in, feeling as if I had too much speed I pulled up just short of the cliff's lip. I gulped as I stared down into what I was about to hurl myself off of. I unstrapped and hiked back up to the drop in spot. This time I wasn't going to stop, I promised. I hit the bottom of the drop well but I took a quick seat in the clouds of powder and continued on down for what would be one of the longest and most enjoyable runs I have done in the backcountry. The bowl of the Stove is WHERE IT IS AT!!! On a totally blue bird day the bowl has the absolutely best runs anywhere; or at least the best runs you can access without a helicopter.




I spent the rest of the day killing my legs hiking up and down the Stove and bombing off gaps, down hills, and just enjoyed having a Winter playground all to myself. The special thing about this place is the lack of any signs of civilization. For a good part of the day, I was completely alone. Surrounded by the mountains and left to my own devices. There is something very profound and utterly unique about a place like this that can cause concentrated moments of self reflection.



Snowboarding has given me a chance to broaden what it is I enjoy so much about rock climbing; and that is an experience distilled through a lens of athleticism and nature you get when interacting with your environment.


Mt. Edgecumb, as seen from the Picnic Rock outlook.

As the day turned from blue bird and calm to overcast and windy, I retreated to the shelter of Picnic Rock. This is a huge hill/mountain that abuts the greater Mt. Verstovia. It has more than a few runs to choose from, but for the most part they are all very short. But, what they lack in length they more than make up for in terrain. You can't go more than a hundred feet without bumping into a sweet kicker, drop, or cliff. The features are everywhere and there is usually more powder on this side of the hill since it stays in the shade and when the wind kicks up it gets all of the powder off of the ridge.



A little kicker at the top of a sweet run on Picnic Rock.

I played around on the front of PR for a while before my legs systematically shut down. There was just so much powder everywhere, but I just couldn't manage another (albeit) short hike back up. I grabbed my pack and bid a fond farewell to the mountains and of course the Stove, before dropping in one last time.

Its 2011 and Everyone is Still Alive

Good grief Charlie Brown! What in the hell have you been up to? Hmmmm, besides the usual? Not much, I guess...

It's definitely been an 'intriguing' start to the next year. Not a whole lot has changed really. The weather is always changing; I'm growing older; I'm learning new things; my outlook on life and people, places, and things is changing; so I guess a whole lot has changed. I think a smart person once wrote "Change is the nature of existence". This seems to be the theme to my meager and unrelentingly ambiguous life. Instead of fighting the tide I've embraced this fact and tried to go with lifes ever evolving ebb and flow. I would desire not to get too stuck in the muck and mire of dwelling in the past or rehearsing the future. Another smart person said, "Rolling in the muck is not the best way of getting clean." So with a fresh face, and strong desire to move forward I've made a comittment to return to school and finish my masters degree. With that I've also taken up a new outdoor interest: snowboarding. It's something I've wanted to try for a few years now. When I lived in Colorado as a kid (age 9-15) my parents would take my brother and I up to Winter Park for skiing. My father, being quite proficient at the sport was gone in a spray of snow flakes, leaving my brother and I to fend for ourselves. After a few times out we eventually got the hang of it and I can remember blasting down the steep snow covered hillsides manipulating the two skinny and long planks strapped to my feet with great ease and having an absolute blast. Not to mention the beauty of the mountains and the warm embrace of the lodge afterwards. So after a great deal of hand wringing and hopping from one foot to the next I finally made the financial plunge and invested in a few things I would need to get the adventure off the ground.

So far I've been out three times; twice to Crystal Mt., and once to Mt. Baker. I have to say that all three times were more than I had hoped for. With the occasional 'slam', I've actually managed to start carving as of my last trip, and I finally have garnered some visible control. My main goal has been to get good enough to start doing back country (i.e. Rianier), but really, it's just been invigorating to get into something new.

Mt. Baker parking lot.

Crystal Mt. My first time out was a heart wrenching one. My 'friends', all quite good and well seasoned skiers and snowboarders thought it a downright traditional faux-pa not to throw me down a double black diamond my first day out. This is said black diamond, The Powder Bowl. I took a lot of seats going down, but made it unscathed, and ended up going down another three times.

Mt. Rainier, as seen from the summit of Crystal Mt.

Now don't get scared. I've not given up climbing in the snowy white face of some new outdoor adrenaline fix. If anything it's given me a new perspective on climbing; hell on life in general. Yesterday I had a great breakthrough and managed to carve down my first black diamond with no falls and no drifting. I got to the bottom and had this supreme rush of clarity and unadulterated joy. It was like clipping the chains of my first outdoor lead all over again without the slightest notion of what this might do for my climbing ego or scorecard. I couldn't stop myself from hugging my friends and looking as if I had taken a large hit of laughing gas for the rest of the day. It was an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. And while this is the same reason I climb, it was amazing to find it in another activity. The struggle of learning how to move over snow/rock effortlessly; taking huge whippers or slamming after catching an edge is such an enlightening process that locks you into the 'moment'. It allows you to let go of so much that keeps you from enjoying these present moments in life that are happening all the time.

"A much more interesting, kind, adventurous, and joyful approach to life is to begin to develop our curiosity, not caring whether the object of our inquisitiveness is bitter or sweet. To lead a life that goes beyond pettiness and prejudice and always wanting to make sure that everything turns out on our own terms, to lead a more passionate, full, and delightful life than that, we must realize that we can endure a lot of pain and pleasure for the sake of finding out who we are and what this world is, how we tick and how this world ticks, how the whole thing just is."

Good friends Stephanie and Kyle at Mt. Baker. Such a great day.

Peace in the mist.

Best for friends for life! Right? The view was amazing, the weather was sunny, and the runs were open and not crowded. Can't wait to go back.

Bye! Thanks for reading...