The mountains call, and I must go.: James Peak delivers skiing bliss and variability

A lot of factors have converged to make the last three to four weeks a near complete wash in terms of outdoor goodness. A hectic Chinook trip followed by a pretty bad bout of the Colorado crud relegated me to maybe a half dozen easy mountain bike rides and a few sessions in the gym. Pitiful, I know. However, now that I'm not really sick (I still have the Mount Everest hack but that's no big deal) it's time to get back at it.

Today was my first ski in a month. Normally that would put me in a dour mood, but it's all relative. Whatever - I initially planned to head up to the area near Moffat Tunnel and some of the non-descript classics, and I even got out of my car, strapped on my boots and started heading on the trail near the tunnel. But something clicked there, and not in a good way. Maybe it was the knowledge of the slide in this very area a week ago, or maybe it was the raging winds and the historical awareness that the terrain I was planning to ski is avalanche prone...I have witnessed a slide here...or maybe some sixth sense...whatever, I had a bad feeling so I turned tail for a new destination. You have to trust those instincts if you're going to survive in the mountains, especially if you plan on playing this game solo.

My new course was the Southeast Face of James Peak, via Jenny Creek. Super mellow, but I've never done it before. Seeing as how I'm coming off a cold, and had new skis to boot...well, it was a good choice. Despite a lot of people, including an outward bound-type group practicing self arrests on a 15° powder slope (not super realistic thinks I), it was a nice day. A great day, really. As Swenson says, any day above timberline is a good day, and today, as I was skinning up a huge cirque surrounded by mountains, whiteness and a blue ski, I hit a level of ecstasy that I have even come close to feeling for the past 48 hours. And it was good.

My new skis and boots - Ski Trabs with Scarpa F3 boots and Dynafit bindings is stupid light. Feels like a nordic skate ski. This was fortunate, because my fitness and energy level is a low ebb. I can't imagine how much fun it would be if I was fit. Well, that's the goal for the next 2-3 weeks! The approach via the southeast ridge is long but aesthetically satisfying - dramatic if you will. I took the ridge route and checked out the spot where Meriwether and I almost died last year. Le grand drop into nothing. Definitely not doing that today, and I was probably hanging to close to the cornice to make Lou Dawson happy, but oblidioblidah. Lots of false summits on that ridge, but finally, two hours later, the summit was reached. A relatively calm feel after the raging winds of the morning.

Back down was interesting. For a lot of reasons. Skis had something to do with it. I have not been on a ski with a waist smalled than 110 mm in a long time, so the 70-some-odd waist on the lighter than light Ski Trabs was, ummm, odd. On top of that, conditions were ridiculously variable. Mid winter powder up top with a nice 2 inch wind crust. Rock solid crust a little further down. Then maybe 3 turns of powder, followed by about 10 turns of honest to goodness corn. Further down, and it turned to total deep slop. Ahh, the realities of 2,900 foot descents on May 11. Got the hang of the skis by the end (note to self...bevel to tip and tail) and think they will be the perfect ski for more solid corn and Dead Dog Couloir-type terrain. They are so light, you could pull a hop turn like Kobe!

It was good to get back out there. Life is tough right now, and it's super important to maintain the discipline of getting into the woods and mountains each and every day. I'll end this with the story of the Taoist farmer because it applies well now. A little message about how what seems good isn't unnecessarily so, just as those events that seem unconditionally bad almost always have a shining end:

This farmer had only one horse, and one day the horse ran away. The neighbors came to condole over his terrible loss. The farmer said, "What makes you think it is so terrible?"

A month later, the horse came home--this time bringing with her two beautiful wild horses. The neighbors became excited at the farmer's good fortune. Such lovely strong horses! The farmer said, "What makes you think this is good fortune?"

The farmer's son was thrown from one of the wild horses and broke his leg. All the neighbors were very distressed. Such bad luck! The farmer said, "What makes you think it is bad?"

A war came, and every able-bodied man was conscripted and sent into battle. Only the farmer's son, because he had a broken leg, remained. The neighbors congratulated the farmer. "What makes you think this is good?" said the farmer.