I Want It

David's Detour

A familiar emotion triggered when I climbed into bed last night: excitement. I knew today was not going to be a powder day. I assumed I was hiking for a top to bottom groomer run. Hardly something to get excited about. But I could care less about conditions. I was heading up to my favorite mountain for some earned turns. During the last few seasons, that giddy feeling was rarely there even for powder days. This season, I am no longer just be going through the motions.

It feels great to want it again.

David's Detour

And wanting it paid off. With a rock solid base, natural snow trails skied well despite undulations and terrain hazards. While Vista Way was pleasant enough, Avalanche was damn near amazing with what felt like peel away spring corn on top of a supportive base.

I want some more of that.

Mount Lafayette from Vista Way

Changeover

“It’s called a “changeover.” The movie goes on, and nobody in the audience has any idea.”
— Fight Club

It was raining at the base, snowing at the summit. The changeover was somewhere around mid-mountain. After a few runs, I went back to the lodge and shook off my soaked gear. I dried off, looked outside, and considered going home. I didn’t want to leave yet, but few things feel as awful as putting on wet gear.

As a general rule, I don’t ski in the rain. It has been over a dozen years since I last “enjoyed” this type of experience. But I decided that I wasn’t done yet. I wanted it. The wet jacket and gloves went back on, I went back out.

While wet gear feels awful, it felt great to want it again… to not let inconvenience and easily made excuses get in the way. What was truly awful were the years before the changeover. I am still trying to make sense of it. And I am still recovering from it.

It felt good to get after it again like I used to.

Deconstruction

Upper HardScrabble

“What was I expecting?”

The thought came to me about half way up a pseudo-skin track on Upper Ravine. A few inches of wind slabbed snow had mostly covered up the skin track, but a faint outline was occasionally still visible. Getting off the track wasn’t horrible, but staying on the invisible balance beam was much more enjoyable.

I turned back and to my right. Looking up to Mount Jackson, I could see a fellow skier descending the Saddle having skinned up via Mittersill. I was not completely alone which lessened the isolating feeling of knowing that you are fucked if something goes wrong. It was simultaneously comforting and annoying.

“What was I expecting? I deconstructed everything. What did I expect was going to happen?”

Upper HardScrabble

Twenty years ago or so, I started saying “the only way you can understand anything is to question everything.” But the logical conclusion of doing so is knowing everything and nothing at the same time. Paralysis. The world would be a better place if things happened based on knowledge.

But knowledge doesn’t cause things to happen. Feeling and drive and motivation and passion make things happen. Knowledge didn’t make me skin up Cannon without a partner three times during this past week. Not very smart, but a helluva lot of fun. Skiing might be the last thing that I have yet to deconstruct.

The one final aspect of reckless abandon that I have left. I treasure it.

It will not be deconstructed.

Keep Going

Upper Hardscrabble

Avalanche

Same skin track, different day. I’m all alone this time. Step. Step. Step.

A few more tracks. Still plenty of untracked. Move. Keep going.

All the way to the summit this time. The legs are still sore from Saturday. Shut up, legs.

Middle Hardscrabble

Turns. Beautiful turns.

Big, wide open, hard charging, bottomless turns. Right down the center of Middle Hardscrabble. Bewildering.

And then more bottomless turns on Zoomer. And again. Zoom Zoom.

Amazing.

Taft Slalom

Taft Slalom

Endurance

Zoomer

knowing how to endure is wisdom
not knowing is to suffer in vain

-lao-tzu (trans. red pine)

Memories trick us into believing that we are Ships of Theseus — that our essence is unchangeable. But memories are fallible, created by emotion. Memories are often false. They are visions of how we wished events happened rather than what actually happened. We are constantly changing, waking up slightly different than the day before. Our brains unconsciously clear themselves of excess baggage, enacting self defense mechanisms to shield our fragile egos.

I woke one day and realized that I wasn’t the same as I used to be. What happened to the unending passion and drive? The wants, needs, and desires were still there but not the energy nor will. What happens when you overcome all of the obstacles that you sought out? What happens when the only obstacle remaining is yourself, but that challenge turns into an utter failure?

Middle Hardscrabble

What happens is you get over yourself. Things will never be as they once were. I am a Ship of Theseus that has been slowly dismantled and rebuilt piece by piece until nothing remains of my past drives. Understanding that fact and accepting that fact — internalizing that fact — are two very different things.

Enduring is action. Action is movement. The old drives and will have failed. Keep moving. It doesn’t matter if there is no goal or objective or passion or will. It doesn’t matter that it doesn’t feel like it used to. It never was going to and it never will. Not for me. Not for anyone.

Movement begets movement. Keep moving. You don’t need a reason. You don’t need motivation. You don’t need passion.

Just move. Just endure.

Steve on Avalanche