Fear and Loathing in the Mountains (please save us Hunter)

       Criticism is an art-form of the literary world, ancient and primordial. Funny, how it is increasingly absent in the feel good world of mountain culture. It’s lack there of is seen in everything from editorials to trip reports to gear reviews. Once upon a time a publication would not be afraid to take a potential advertiser’s product and give it a honest, level, impartial judgment. Nowadays, the reader should never take a reviewer’s published opinion seriously. They are most likely trying to placate their editor and probably hope to get sponsored by the very same gear company that they are reviewing. Or they are taking advertising money from the same company. So we are left with the observation that all products that are reviewed are awesome and we should immediately throw-away our still useful item and run-out and buy said new product post-haste. The same holds true in so-called editorials and in general most articles published in today’s skiing, climbing, biking and so on literature. Not too mention a vast majority of individual participant’s internet blogs. Currently, we are bombarded with feel good, self-gratification cheerleading in a variety of forms. Look at me, look at us. Are we not rad and insane? Don’t you wish you could be like us? Well, you better start trying harder. Buy this, go there. Nobody wants to offend or challenge. Many of the people at the heart of climbing’s so-called “Golden Age” refused to purposefully publicize and glorify their actions for the intent of making a living. If they were able to make a few bucks giving a slide show or selling a print then that meant a few more days on a wall. Long gone are the days of Doug Robinson writing about clean climbing, he’s off rap-bolting on Half-Dome in Yosemite while Yvon Chouinard is selling us the same yoga outfit with a different name every season.

        I call them book reports on my blog. I do not want to read them and you should limit your reading of them. There is probably something more worthwhile for you to be doing anyhow. Rarely, anymore do I take the time to actually read blogs or in general any writings in the mountain rags. There is a copy of nearly every Alpinist sitting at my house, and for a decade I used to read just about anything Climbing and Rock and Ice published. A year ago or so I thought that The Ski Journal was becoming something artistic and unconventional. Then suddenly I was reminded that skiing sold-out a long time ago.  Any sport that at its core is aligned with golf courses and real estate developments is definitively in need of a complete make-over.  If it is not being done with a helicopter, in Europe by Swedes, or by one of their bros they are not going to be publishing it.  Plus, just look at the gear.  Its not like its that hard anymore.  Sure, for some dude from Minnesota who gets to ski a few days a year it feels hard.  But I am pretty sure the only way an proficient alpine skier is going to fall anymore is by hucking themselves off a cliff.  Ask any photographer who has worked in the industry for a number of years and they will relate stories of the self-involved nature of the subjects and participants taking part in these sports. The Alpinist used to avoid posed photographs, surely their attitudes have changed by now, if not then bravo to them on their lonely journey.

         That is fantastic that you saved, borrowed, were given, or begged the thousands of dollars to finance your trip to some far-off land. Good job. No epics? Super as well, we cannot all be mountain martyrs. Its nice when limbs or lives are not lost on our narcissistic adventures. But all the same, please give your readers a little depth, something to hold them and inspire them. Stop the name dropping and clique building. Its great that we love to share our experiences in nature with anybody who will listen. But what is the purpose of these adventures? Should it not be to deeply connect with that ancient soup that is at the very core of our matrix? If we are only inspired by the boasting of some meaningless numbers, cultural voyeurism, and social/business networking then we need to re-wire this mountain culture for its surely becoming nothing more then a bubble-gum adolescent hobby. Bring back some of that attitude and the spirit of independence that is the vital soul of the mountains. It actually is the act of experiencing our natural environment on its terms that is the most noble calling.

       This probably just ruined my chances of getting sponsored. Damn.

Skier Gentrification

I'll give it ten years and this zone will be fully gentrified by the "dirtbag" skier "culture".  The goods are just too tasty.  Surely, we will be seeing more articles and photos imploring the masses to come ski this last best place.  It is the way.  Until then, I am going to get mine.


Six solid days on top of several previous days around Bozeman created a nice little ski holiday from my normal ski holiday. As my partner sat at home fighting a virus and wishing she could ski with me. I was honored to ski a few days with one of the few winter residents of Cooke who actually back-country skis. Hopefully I passed the muster, even with a non-dynafit set-up. The anti-social nature fits me well. Skiing and partying in posses has no attraction for me. It just slows the process down and you are held to the whims of the most conservative members of your posse. Skied two blissful days by myself, pounding some north-facing steep powder. Even got to listen to some streaming dub-step up high on the spines of Montana. Hell Yes! Oh yeah, namaste bitches.

Are You Famous Yet?

Been keeping it close to the vest since last year.

Seeking some modesty in this over-hyped world we've got going.

That charisma is gonna get ya'.

Self-Analyzation Arranged with Complex Paragraph Structure

I am coveting the mindset of the cool, calm and collected human animal. The Zen master within me is restless and is taking control. Working on the side of a cliff tearing it apart and then encasing it in metal. What a interesting way to get after the cash.  This cash that is required to fuel any existence in the modern-world.  I feel lost at times, we are not what we do for work.  Instead I believe that we are what we do for pleasure and health.  If those choices are peaceful, then the world benefits.  If not, then more hate, anger, and pain is put forth towards all life-forms.

I nourish my inner-peace with taking work in a foreign environment (i.e. the deep south), working with plenty of individuals with no comprehension of the world that I have chosen to live in, and being away from the things I love.  Practicing patience with those who would scoff at my life, moving forward and smiling and taking the time to learn another's perspective.  This causes deeper reflection for me.  Live has slowly pushed and pulled me along many paths.  I have found love a few times, felt absolutely lost just as often, and plenty of times just in-between.  My early twenties were a time of change and formation of the actual self.  At times nothing seemed worth it, yet I still long for the love of those days.  I was mistreated and I mistreated as well.  I ended up having to run-away for the sake of sanity.  Our brains take up to 30 years to fully mature. From the start a good life has always been there.  Loving family, friends, and safety were always present.  Others are not so lucky, even in this privileged state of affairs occurring in the modern Euro-American dominated paradigm.

Why do we do the things we do and for what? We all want to compare our situation to everyone else's. If you tell me how hot it is where you live, I will come back with the proper retort of how hot I have seen it. And so on. I almost crushed my finger off a few months ago, and now if I bother to tell anyone about it they will most likely reply with their own story of personal injury. Are we listening to each other? Or just waiting to flap our lips? Quietness is so surreal and special. It seems to be losing the battle in our little world and time-space. I am practicing listening and hearing people when they talk to me. Not arranging my next story or witty comeback. As the songs says: "You start a conversation you can't even finish it. You're talkin' a lot, but you're not sayin' anything. When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed. Say something once, why say it again?"- Talking Heads, Psycho Killer.  I remember the stories that are told to me.


You are still reading this.  Why?  Do you not need to be bombarded by some other data source?  I have not bragged about what I have been doing, instead I am contemplating the human condition.  It seems our culture could use a little more of that.  Stop this living for a future that is not guaranteed, choose to live for the present and the future will be beautiful if you are acting in a truly moral and ethical way.  Which way?  I do not know.  You and your ego can pick out of the magician's top-hat.  Everybody seems to have that one figured out for themselves and have convinced themselves that they are doing right by some mythical belief system.  Perhaps instead it would be wiser to practice the preaching.  Lay down the gavel of judgement and pick-up some true compassion.  There are whole tomes with millions of believers that are mis-quoted daily for the purpose of elevating the self.  Chase money if that is what is important, if that brings you happiness, security, and all that shit.  Perhaps our careers, credit reports, diplomas and consumeristic objects define us.  If so chase that race.

I will be busy chasing bliss.

Lets Get Known

Ski Season 2012 has come to a close for me.  Made it through a superbly fickle winter season and a surprisingly good spring season.  Plenty of poor light, poor snow, and then sometimes just good skiing days limited the number of quality photos that I was able to capture.  Plus, what fun is going skiing if you are stopping and freezing your hands to take photos all the time?  I love to ski.  If i can shoot a few decent photos out of all it, then so be it.

The following represent the best I was able to capture with an out-dated, but light, Nikon D60 with 18-55mm lens.  Limited editing was performed on the majority of photos and they are all relatively un-posed.  You may notice a lack of hucking, jibbing, helicopters, snow-machines, lift-accessed skiing, and the like.  There is enough of that already.  Its not about models, gear, clothing, and trying to get known.  This is all about getting out in the wilds, finding beautiful un-tracked lines and skiing them with good friends.

May your summer be fantastic and short, let the fall bring a stable early-season snowpack, and lets have a stellar 2013 ski season.


 
Thank You,

Andrew Whitmore

How thin is your skin?

Blogging is stupid.  

Here are a couple of bumper-sticker worthy sayings I've been working on.

"Climbing:  Helping Over-Privileged White-Boys feel special for 200 years"

"You reproduced.  Congratulations."

"Alpine Skiing:  So Easy You Can Do It Stoned, Drunk, On Acid and Still Not Fall"

Seasons

The Back 40 at South Cottonwood

Is it time to switch some gearing on the recreational focus?  I have been tossing this one around once more, like I always do in the spring.

Rock-climbing is a very unforgiving pursuit.  Its not exactly like riding a bike, paddling a boat, or most other activities (I prefer to not put climbing in the category of a sport).  The more time spent away from the rock the harsher the mental grip can become.  Clear, calm, mental rhythms are the essence.  Nothing is more annoying to me then being up on a a climb I know I can do but being too weak to finish it, well nothing except being scared in that situation.  Weakness equates to fear and is fertile ground for its growth.

So the season of change is upon us.  Skiing in the mountains well get some more attention, but at the moment my legs are feeling heavy and unresponsive.  Its all about taking advantage of the situation and not being pigeon-holed to one interest.

Whatever you do have fun.

NESP

Skiing takes up way too much of my time.
More death in the mountains in the past week.
Canada is still on my mind.
I didn't go to ski academy.
Started to submit photos today.
Ski camp is happening this weekend....

Snow Fairies Dancing

Friday-Saturday-Sunday.
Sleep outside, move yourself, bootpacking required.
No sleds, cats, and 'copters.
North-facing and wind-buffed.
The cornices are mitigated.
Leave your one-piece and clique at home...

Get Some

This is an open invitation.

"Live to Ski"- Thanks for the inspiration Steve Romeo.

Getting Out

With the amount of time I spend skiing and especially skiing in the mountains its behooves me to get out and taste the goods of other areas.  While we have extraordinary skiing opportunities here in Montana, I have been pining for a few years to get up to the interior mountains of British Columbia.  I am always one to opt for my own adventure via independence.  Plus, life is expensive enough as is.  So we were off to guide and provide for ourselves.  The amount of terrain available in ranges such as the Bugaboos, Monashees, Selkirks, and the myriads of other ranges blows the mind.  However, it seemed prudent to get a proper introduction on this initial foray.  So it was a simple choice:  Roger's Pass in the Selkirks.

Zana was able to get a week off of work and we made the trek up north through Golden to stay for 5 nights at the only roadside lodging at Rogers Pass in Glacier National Park of British Columbia.  Needless to say, we were both geeked to get out and explore this terrain.  Being one to usually live simply it felt quite luxurious to be paying for accommodations in such a ski mecca.  Nice, overpriced, and oh so convenient lodging.  The Canucks and Euros making us poor Americanos feel like good ol' common folk. The car was packed with $250 of choice USA foods and produce, a large grip of elk, and of course all of our allotted beer quota.  We quickly settled in for the week.

We may be paupers, but we know how to move and shred in the hills.  Having a ski partner like Zana is priceless.  She can move in the mountains for 12 hours at the same pace morning through evening.  Plus, she is oh so very excellent at reigning in some of my more fantastical ideas while out and about.  While I may want to boot-up and ski every halfway decent looking north-facing couloir, it is not always the best choice for that particular day's ski.   But, if we agree that conditions are ripe and ready she can be counted on to remain safe and yet steadily move towards our goal.

After a mid-day check-in we put skis and skins on and went out the backdoor.  2000' feet of steep, over-skied, forest brought us to a variable run down through some beautiful old-growth fir-spruce-hemlock forest.  Nothing to really make you buzz, but fresh air and mountain views are always good medicine.  The views out into the Selkirks were eye-popping and created fertile grounds for tomorrow's travels.

The forecast was calling for two more days of good visibility followed by some smallish disturbances.  We were able to get up early the next day and bypassed permits and got going before 7.   So without to much more wordiness here are a sizable array of visual aids.

(note on photos:  The majority of these are untouched photos. In my photographic pursuits I find that by not overshooting scenes I can control and learn more about situations and light.  Too much digital manipulation takes away from the process for me.  I like to come back from a good day with only a few select photos that I deem worthy out of the gate as opposed to sitting at computer for days sorting through endless shots.  While this may limit my output it provides lasting insight.  To each their own.)

Good Morning.

Z Crossing a large run-out zone going up to Balu Pass, cool temps for these ranges at 15 Fahrenheit. 

Looking west into the Cougar drainage.  We would ski the glacier/moraines in the foreground in absolute no visibility a few days later.

Cougar Peak and Ridge....terrain is looking big.

Looking South over the Trans-Canada 1.

Only posing of the week.  Zana making the low-angle slope look good.

Crystallization.

Cheops Mountain in foreground with Mount Sir Donald in the back....naming peaks like these for obscure white dudes always seems odd.

Next Day.  Up the Loop Brook to the Bonney Glacier.  This area had been closed for several days to allow for bombing along the road.  Thus, fresh and settled pow.

Looking North at Cheops (across from mouth of Loop Brook)

Z followed by our gracious local guides on the second run off the Bonney Moraines.  At first they thought we were just some more punks from Revelstoke aimlessly following a skin track.  Not these cats.  Hooking up with locals (especially veteran ski patroller locals) usually has its benefits.  Our benefits were two 700 metre runs of outstanding variety and intensity.  The next day's tour follows the spine-like feature of the Lily Glacier lateral moraines seen on the northwest facing slope in the background.

Bonney Moraines.  Incredible 100-200 metre features perched above some super rowdy runs.

Looking at the toe of the Lily Glacier (above blue ice-fall).  The next day's tour would lead us onto the Lily, but snow and super poor visibility would stop us after a few hundred metres of roped uphill travel.

Fantastic touring going up to the Lily.

Day Five proceeds.

On the way from Revelstoke to Nelson.  Revelstoke looks like a place to live.  Not just a resort town filled with real estate agents.  It actually has history and affordable looking housing.  More than a transient community for sure.   Nelson was as expected.  Everyone feeling groovy.  Probably lots of surfers living in the mountains.  Multitudes of lost looking souls.  Organic everything.  Looks like a good place to take a trustfund and act like you are poor.  Like a Canadian version of Arcata, CA.  Been there, done it.  We jammed after a meal and headed to Kootenay Pass.

Camping at the top of the Kootenay Pass.  Neato terrain.  Kinda similar to Teton Pass, but with no Glory hike or Taylor Mountain.  Skied inside a complete wet-blizzard, after the second size 2 avalanche release we agreed to bust camp and head to the states.  Skiing with no visibility and releasing avalanches just is not as fun as it sounds.

Amazing week in the northland.  Skied 6 out of 7 days.  I actually was able to wear Zana down at the end.  Got her close to buying a lift ticket even.  The world has once again been expanded for me, we are so insignificant in the grand scheme of it all.  Love the feel of the mountains and forests up there.  I am constantly reminded of Zana's Canadian citizenship.  How enticing is that?  To have such big country to explore in the winter.  Plus, non-attachment to the disgusting political situation in the states and the mass consumerism of the populace.  I don't need a stinking empire.

Thanks for reading.

AW

Slow Ride

Looks like winter might actually get going here in the Northern Rockies of the US of A (discounting those lucky avalanche prone bastards in Cooke).  I have been genuflecting at my snow altar like a religious fanatic the past two months.  I have fully destroyed a pair of K2 Coombacks at Bridger plus that tasty digger in the Gallatins.  My ski tech advisers are advising me to buy better-built skis, or perhaps I should just ride groomers.

The Lines, The Lines
The last several weeks I have fully committed to the church of the Spanish Peaks.  Beautiful riding has been the norm.  Not in the mini-alpine zone of Beehive, but beyond.  Skied Blaze Mountain twice, toured to the north side of Gallatin Peak, skied peak 10,602 on 8 different occasions with a variety of good partners.  Pretty sure my feet are getting pissed at me.  The frostbite from last season seems to not be healed.  Every evening has been pain-filled with a good 10 minutes of the screaming barfies in my right big toe.  Sweet reminder of skiing all day in -15 Fahrenheit temps last year.

Keeping it Safe
Climbing is taking a rest at the moment.  But at least I ski like a skier and not like a climber.

I love the climbing game, but its rapid transformation into a total ego-driven, me, me sport has really put a bad taste on my palette.  Everywhere I look there is another climber posing down, trying to get noticed for 15 seconds.  Get over it everyone.  Putting your digits and limbs in some granite or sandstone crack or crimping on a dime edge for a pitch and then sitting on your duff for an hour to catch your breath and eat some shitty food is not that impressive.  Wiring routes after 15 goes.  That is so amazing...almost like an idiot savant counting cards.  On-sight it if you can, give 100 percent and after 5 tries maybe wait till you are good enough.  At least in skiing everyone has long ago realized that its a glam sport for the white privileged class.  Climbers are still running around acting like they are living in the Golden Age.  Get over it and get a life.  The most inspiring climbers to me are the ones capable of climbing hard while at the same time maintaining a life (i.e., relationships, children, being an athlete, work, ethical living).

We leave for British Columbia in a few days.  Backcountry skiing is on the menu for 10 days.  To say I am excited is an obvious understatement.  I am beyond stoked.  Do not worry I will bring my camera on every outing and try and actually post while traveling.  A little ego-driven mania for myself.  At least I will have Zana by my side keeping it real.  She really does not care what you do.

Peace to the homies and remember....."Today I didn't even have to use my A.K.  I got to say it was good day."

Seaching and Finding

Skiing and more skiing.  Gotta get out even if its not epic.  Been skiing in Yellowstone National Park a bit the past several weeks.  Good stuff, long flat approaches keep the riff-raff out.  Nice country.  Someday I am gonna make a POV movie about a slow approach.  Oh yeah, I would have to waste some money on the camera first.  Nobody Cares About Your POV.  Goes along with the Nobody Cares ethos.

New slogan idea:  "I Skin Steeper Than You Ski".  Zana thought it was stupid....literally.  Maybe she was hating the skin-track I was putting in at the moment.

Took the skis on a great walk into the Southern Madison from the west on Saturday.  After miles of hiking with minimal snow we agreed to turn around.   Saw a nice 200' water ice flow coming out of some limestone.  Drove on some neat country roads.  Was reminded of how you can drive out of Bozeman for 30 miles and enter Montana.

Felt really bad for taking up a day off of Zana's with my silly map-chasing ideas.

I have put in over 10 days already in the Northern Gallatins.  Even installed the Gallatin National Forest Avalanche Center Memorial Skin Track.  Good snow, but getting a little tired of the same treks.  Plus, the skiing is not making my legs tired. 

Went back to one of my favorite zones in the Spanish Peaks.  Success!  Got to do a semi-mega tour.  Booted 1600' of north-facing coolly and then did it again.  Skiing was good, stability was passable.  Did not have to look at Big Sky for long.  The light was amazing.  I did not bring a camera in the interests of going fast and light, plus it was my fifth day in the backcountry this week.  Thought I might start feeling tired.  Got some new ideas rocking for the next week of no snow.

A circumnavigation of Blaze Mountain is coming up soon.  

Cheers,

Reactivity

We are already a few weeks into the Earth's New Year.  Wow!  What can I say, I love skiing so much even a shortage of snowfall and a miserable snowpack cannot dampen my love.  I have been punching the clock up at Bridger much more regularly.  What a special place.  For only a few hundred dollars a year I get my own ski mountain.  Plus, I  like and can relate to the people who work and play there.  Hell Yes!  On the negative side I did not get to enslave any third-world children, cheat some middle class Americans out of their hard-earned money, get Botox, try to act in some ridiculous movie, or hold public office.  YES!!!

Ski that thing.


Multiple (3 last week) avalanche deaths in the region are causing grief for many.  As a surly traditionalist climber it still hurts me to see people who are loved and cherished pass even when its doing what they love.  For many of us, this is one of the choices we make every morning when we step out of the our boxes.  Skiing in the early winter snow environment is a challenging and sometimes intense situation.  This is not like skiing a beat out mountain in May.  Anyone (well, anyone who can ski) can do that.  This is about skiing.  Skiing some powder, getting up in the wilderness, looking at animal tracks, seeking new objectives, and mostly...having fun.  That said, the same part of me that enjoys the challenges of free-solo rock climbing relishes these times in the mountains.  Its me and Ma' Nature.  Its not about luck, its about listening to the earth, sky, and water on one hand.  On the other is knowing yourself and trusting your interpretation of the present, past, and future consequences of action.  When I step onto a rock face and climb, I do not want to die.  When push my skis over the lip, I want to live.  Live life.  Simple as that.  I cannot live it in a box or in front of one.  If I had chosen that life then I would probably be six feet under in one.    Some of us need to feel that darkness pulling at our heels.  Others do not.  We are still lucky enough to get to choose.

Alex Lowe Peak on 01/01/12


So I plod along, poking my poles to the ground, digging in the snow, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Happy New Year,

Andrew

Sell it Out! (Warning: The Following is Montana-centric)

I have been reading lately.  Thank you, its been a big step for me.  Generally, I read whatever I can get my hands on.  It nice to try and absorb some fresh insights, perspectives and opinions.  Living in this culturally deficient area of the country can deprive one's mind of fresh nutrients for thought.  More and more though, I have noticed a complete lack of content in our precious area publications.  Its not that I expect any type of award-winning writing to come out of our local newspaper.  That is a lost cause.  From the rest we should expect a lot more.

Where are our good independent mags and papers?  Everything out there seems to be run by real estate agents.  No opinions, no viewpoints, no need to offend a potential advertiser.  The majority of the articles seem to be geared toward getting more people to move here, make everybody feel like a local, and in general tell the world how awesome it is to live in Montana.  I am waiting for the day when all my favorite backcountry ski zones can be described in detail and full color, every good fishing-hole a community event, where to bag a deer without trying.  Shoot, pretty soon we will see an article explaining where and how to go cut some firewood.   Wanna know where to go skiing?  Buy a map, go for a hike.  Live and learn.

One of the greatest things about Montana is that it is not like other places.  You can go rock-climbing here all day and not see another party.  There are numerous trails around that do not feel like glorified dog parks.  Backcountry skiing is still an adventure here, not just another sport to buy shiny gear for.  Is this changing?  Slowly but surely, all things do change.  The difference is that we do have a choice in the rates of change and the direction that it is headed.

In places like Big Sky, Montana (just up the road from Bozeman) it seems like change is on an accelerated track.  If there was ever a place that exemplified Montana, Big Sky is not it.  Carving a %1er community out of what was a prime mountain wilderness recovery zone is how its done in other places like Colorado, Tahoo, Whistler, Europe, etc.  So you visited Montana once on the suggestion of Warren Miller and thought it was so amazing you had to move here and promote it to all of your friends.  Damn, are you some kind of outlaw or something?  Thank you.  Everytime I go skiing into the Spanish Peaks I shutter inside.  I move faster to crest the ridge that will block that view.

I just want to read something interesting by a Bozemanite.  Is that so wrong?  There are plenty of former English majors out there who need work.  Lets get them motivated to use that degree.

Confronting Power

We are cruising into winter.  Woke up with a half-inch of snow encrusted around the South Cottonwood homestead.  The mountains are gathering their breath.  Wonderful!

Styles and morals in our recreational pursuits seem a little misguided.  While its all very good to hold opinions and values in everything we do, its just as important to remain flexible.  Like the reed of grass in the wind, bend but do not break.  At the end of the day these little self-guided adventures we go on in the mountains, deserts, and seas are merely a diversion from the reality of the world which surrounds us.  Painful as it is to admit, we are the lucky ones.

While recycling Ziploc bags until they fall apart is never going to solve the world's problems, at least it shows that an effort is being put forth.  Eating healthy foods without petrochemical additives is a sure way to prevent harm.  Whats the best health insurance plan on the market?  Exercise, low stress living, and eating natural/organic foods.  It is mind-boggling that society is searching for a cure for cancer, all the while the causes surround us.  This is not a debate.  Remain human.  Taking more drugs is only going to improve the health of the industrial drug/insurance beast.

As I hide here in Montana, the planes fly overhead burning their trails to more important places.  Kids are still willing to fight in NYC, London, Rome and elsewhere.  Power only responds to power.  What is power today?  Money.  Perhaps we should all pull-out of that little gambling casino they call the stock market.  Drop the money in your savings account.  That is force.   Don't buy that new car, another appliance, more clothes to replace the clothes that are not worn.  Growth for the sake of growth is a disease.

Put a stockbroker to work.  Hand them some shovels, a hammer, a pair of work boots.  Let them feel some true effort.  Learn to do something useful today.  Leveraging other humans futures is not a career...its a sociopathic illness.   These are beautiful times to be alive. 

White Squad II by Leon Golub


Live it!

Falling into Winter

Yep, it still exists. Very little to report from the zone this past summer, thus no bloggage. I figure there is no need to fill this space with boring personal trip reports. I shall leave that to the rags and 'zines of the world. Travel writing is about as interesting as reading my chainsaw's operating manual and definitely less useful.

Getting Some in the Trailer Boulders


I have taken to the world of rope access technician (RAT) work. The pay is outstanding, the views can be stunning, the work is interesting and strenuous. I like. Only thing that is not so grand is the travel to some of these places and being away from Bozeman and my good life there. This new career path is opening some wonderful doorways into the future. Making enough cash to peace out for the winter being numero uno. I see myself doing some nice international travel for work in the coming years and taking some wonderful vacations. Of course I will have to buy a bunch of shit too. You know. Flatscreens, RVs, dirtbikes, and the rest of the garbage. ----Serious Sarcasm Alert---

Two of the beautiful ladies of my life

To all of you who read this: thank you, but what are you doing sitting inside or staring at your "smart" phone. As the late Bean Bowers said: "Go do something wild today". Hell Yes!

Remember what you live for


later gators

Yurting for a Hurting or is it Hurting for a Yurting

The light is green for some deluxe Yurt residing this weekend!

I have pulled through another heinous bout of the flu, the second one this season. Weird, after several years of non-sickness I get way-laid twice (twice!) in one winter. I call Bullshit on that!

Life is good in the Bozone all in all. Rock-climbing is picking-up again. We made it out to the Batholith last weekend with a good-sized crew and worked on some gnar. Feeling good on the stone.

I am really getting in-touch with the Bozeman Public Library as well. Its amazing how well read the homeless of Bozeman must be for all the time they spend here. Ah, the hidden secrets of Amerika. Seriously.

Mecca, Deschutes River, Central Oregon.


Perhaps I will be back to this zone soon. Looking for work and Smith Rocks might be callin'. Love the Mecca zone, its probably all developed out and nobody is climbing there any longer. Perfect for me to squeeze in a few more FA's (first ascent) and fight with some rattlesnakes and eagles.






All photos from my friend Mark Deffenbaugh.

Alas, the powder calls and the Tobacco Roots are a gem of a place to watch the moon and stars.


Namaste

Sense of Place

Pounding the powder for three days at Hebgen and Quake lakes. It snowed everyday. Really did not have time for taking photos and the light was continually flat. That is the price you pay sometimes for skiing powder.

Getting into it...


...Camera not set-up for action photography....


...Playing around in the middle of a 1800' run


The mini-vacation is over. Time to fix some gear and get ready.

I'm not a ski bum

Don't call me that.

The past week has been dedicated to resting my frostbitten big toe for the first time in awhile. Progress is being made. Skipped all the wind/powder skiing since last week. Focusing on the job effort. Got a car that I'm getting going: '87 Suby. Like I do. Should be ready by Mon./Tue..

Its time to go skiing. Plans are hatched for more mega-sized ski tours and line-slaying these upcoming months. Beartooths/Tetons/Winds are being worked on along with a longer traverse (Mt. Holmes to Electric Peak?). Roger's Pass perhaps?

Climbing continues. Slowly. All minor/annoying injuries have been healed. Grip strength low. Leg power high. I must abide the plastic winter overlord more.

Welcome back to town Sam M.. Can't wait to hear and see about the travels.

Goodness.

Safety Meeting along the Deer Lake Ridge Traverse

Plenty of days for adventure in the mountains around southwest Montana exist in my universe. During the first week of February I took the time to revisit a tour I had gone on solo during my first spring in Montana, The Deer Lake Basin Traverse. Whereas six years ago I had been stymied by mass quantities of glob and a lack of endurance, this time around the mountains opened their passages to me in a kind fashion. Solo again I set off at the moderate hour of 8:30 in the morning. The tour basically consists of trekking up the first 3 or 4 miles of the Deer Lake trail out of Gallatin Canyon. Table Mountain is the first peak to ascent followed by a joyful traverse across 3 unnamed 10,000+ peaks and then a long eastward traverse on the Dudley Creek/Deer Lake divide with a steep north-facing ski run down to the mouth of the Deer Lake Basin.

Atop Table Mountain looking down at the start.


Looking southwards from Table's broad summit plateau the horizon opens up to one's eyes. Across the way I see the ski crux of the day. Picked out a fun, most challenging, and slightly safe line. A 600' exposed slope with a max pitch of 35ish degrees ending in a cliffband containing a group of several 45 degree couloirs of 400' length.

Looking at the ski "crux" of the traverse (The Sphinx in the background)


After some orientation on Table Mountain I headed off to the southwest.

Looking into the Spanish Peaks. From left to right: Jumbo Mountain, Beehive Peak, Blaze Mountain, and Gallatin Peak (in cloud).


The wind was my constant companion as a small 400' ski brought me to a 1000' ascent to the first of three peaks forming the headwall of Deer Basin. Skis were taken on and off for the next several hours. Amazing views all around infringe their starkness on my retinas, the camera has become a secondary recording device to the neurons within my brain. The wind and clouds threaten to close down the visibility but nothing serious crops up.

Little ole' Lone Peak. The second ridgeline in from the foreground is the Dudley Creek/Deer Lake Divide.


Looking back from the top of the divide peak between South Fork Hellroaring Creek, Cascade Creek and Deer Basin.


Onward. From the same peak as previous photo. Some technical skiing to some sweet scrambling, all kinda exposed. Wilson Peak in the mid-ground with Dudley Peak along its ridge to the east.
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Eliminate climbing, choosing my own challenges. Stayed primarily on the rocks, at over a billion years old I tend to trust them.



The traversing was taking some toll on me, mainly punching through faceted snow and banging my body parts on the mountains' spines. Alas the weather was looking bleaker and I had only an hour till the sun sank itself. To paraphrase the late Derek Hersey "wow this is cool, time to move on". So I move on with a quickened physical pace and the same smooth mental focus as 6 hours ago.

Darkness descends. The Taylor-Hilgards pulsate from the south.



The camera was shuddered for the traverse to the skiing finale. After several ups and downs and transitions some skiing was at hand. After a initial ski-cut of the entrance to the top pitch, I charged headlong into some boot-top powder. Poking around along the bench above the cliffband I found one of the suitable couloirs and ski-cut it as well. Out-skied my sluff and eased into the runout zone ending in a quagmire of spruce/fir forest in the bottom. Quickly found where I had gone off-trail to skin up Table Mountain and was able to jam out the highway in under a half-hour.

Good times.

Taking and Receiving

Some current work by Z


A lazy art critic


The storms around Bozeman have been infrequent at best. This is how January can be in Bozeman. Its often best not to check the snow amounts in Cooke City at this time. That is a sure way to madness. I got down to the Hebgen Lake area (aka The Chicken Shack) three times in the course of 7 days last week. West Yellowstone has been getting hit consistently with moderate snowfall. Adding that with cooler temps and little wind and some sweet, sweet powder skiing is on reserve.

We choose to return to a pocket south of the Sanchez Bowl that I call the Trident. Very little traffic and the best fall-lines in the entire zone. All you have to pay is a steep and stout 1800' final skin that can be repeated numerous time and a track is never crossed.

Entering the Trident


Pillow lines coming in (Up)


(Down)


Good Line


Across the bottom of Sanchez


This ain't no rando-race bitches


Sky Pilots