Fritjof Capra, a giant in the intersection of physics and spirituality has a new book and essay out. Learn why this intersection matters, and what's happening at the edge of human understanding.
Read moreRespecting The Elders
LOVELAND TELE POSSE
This photo, circa 2016, is of me with my three most beloved ski mentors, and some of my most common and frequent ski partners. Together, at the time, we were a combined age of approximately 225 years, with likely 200 ski seasons combined, it’s a real testament to friendship, partnership, respect, and learning.
There is a deeper layer of trust that partners develop doing dangerous things at high altitudes. I consider trust in terms of altitude… people I would ski with at Steamboat, or cross country skiing at 7,000’ might not make the cut when we’re exploring avvy-prone terrain out the backcountry gate on Loveland Pass above 11,000’. These gents, however, have been my partners up to the top of 14,000’ backcountry peaks.
We are, of course, pointing at nothing in particular, playing into a silly moment… a clustermark of telefuckers, as we would sometimes call it. Because for all the seriousness of high altitude backcountry skiing, it damn well better be fun, as well.
Left to Right: Charlie Ziskin, me, Kevin Bound, Larry Hall
When It All Comes Together
DEEP IN THE POCKET
Experienced powder skiers call it the White Room, a region a spacetime where you’re not merely skiing on the snow, but you’re fully immersed in it. Even the most dedicated only get to visit once in a while. Others may only get there once or twice in a lifetime. Each time is a special moment, and even more rare to be captured so perfectly by a camera (in this case, by Larry Hall).
We were at Jackson Hole, Wyoming, chasing a storm. The runs were getting a little skied out, and it was still early enough in the season that you had to be careful not to get caught in a creek. As the willows show, the snowpack wasn’t that deep yet, and terrain traps lurked, hidden by the thick white blanket.
We can train, practice, and pursue our passions. Only rarely does that everything come together, when time slows down, and conditions conspire for the magic moment. The trick is to stay fully present — the space between transcendence and catastrophe can be a millimeter’s shift in balance. It happened this day. And I am truly grateful.
Apache Couloir
SUMMER SLIDE
The Indian Peaks Wilderness (IPW) looms large west of Boulder, Colorado. South of Rocky Mountain National Park, the IPW is part of the same mountain spine that defines the Continental Divide. We are fortunate to call it “the backyard,” and can arrive at one of various trailheads in roughly an hour (or so) from our homes.
In the Third Season of summer skiing, we get to explore the high peaks, which are often too risky to travel in the middle of winter. In the winter and early spring, less snowpack stability increases the chance of avalanche, and long distances, short days, and cold weather all increase the risk. Increase it to a point where we choose different ski objectives.
But in the summer, these long, steep, highly aesthetic runs above treeline beckon us. And on this particular summer day, Charlie Ziskin and I put it all together, just right.