Affirmation

Can Am
Can Am

“Why do I do this?”

The question was made in jest as I exited my car and felt the zero degree temperature. It was really an affirmation rather than a question. If it were to have been an actual question, then I would have thought the answer was self evident. Last year, that was not always the case.

Every season, I debate whether or not to purchase a season pass. By the time the lifts open, I seem to forget that I invested in a long term season pass worth of gear years ago. The only additional expense is the cost of fuel. I frequently forget to factor in the cost of not using my earned turn season pass more often.

Can Am
Can Am

Narrative

Vermonter

Big Jay

A narrative is a story or account of connected events. The narrative of every ski season varies significantly year to year, but each season’s narrative always includes a beginning. Let’s call today the preface to a new narrative.

My own narrative became contaminated. I developed a false self narrative and I followed the script off a cliff. The story began to frame me instead of me framing the story. The narrative no longer felt like my own. But in an insidious way, it still felt like I was writing the story. A default program stuck in an infinite loop; the story would not progress, the next page could not be turned.

I cannot control the narrative of the ski season. But I can (exert the illusion of) control (over) my own narrative. I can choose how to present the narrative arc of the protagonist. I can stop the record from skipping incessantly. I can lift the record off the turntable and break it apart like the problematic unconscious self narrative that was endlessly repeating in my head. I choose to recast my tale.

Buddy's Bench

Upper Milk Run

Reach out for help.

And then reach for the next sheet of paper, reach for a pen, and start writing again.

Reach for a summit that once inspired you and then open yourself up to be inspired again.

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