Ski Season. It Has Arrived.

That, my friends, is what happiness looks like. For those of you who aren't particularly "wintry," what you're seeing are big, sweeping turns left by a solitary skier on an unblemished mountain. Not just any turns, mind you, but the kind of knee-deep powder turns that cause kids to drop out of Ivy League universities and take a job spinning chairlifts for 7 bucks an hour. And they weren't left by just any skier, but by me. And I must say, for a kid from New Jersey, those ain't bad.

Lots to tell from the weekend, but before we begin, how about a quick break for some comedic relief?

Q: What do daylight and the Philadelphia Eagles have in common?
A: They both rapidly begin to fade as Halloween approaches.

Thank you, Thank you....make sure and tip your waitress.

This weekend was all about the snow, and there was plenty of it. Three feet of the white stuff between Monday night and early Saturday morning had dramatically changed the local landscape, so a group of five headed to Aspen Highlands to try out our new snowshoes and if conditions allowed, to do a bit of skiing.

That would be Chelsea, Natalie, and Lauren, enjoying a respite from the arduous task of breaking trail and posing for a photo-op. Lauren is looking resplendent in her new Tubbs Adventure snowshoes, and let me tell you, once she strapped those puppies on, she shot up Highlands like a mountain goat. The change in her aerobic capacity has been nothing short of remarkable; whereas she once wheezed and struggled on a short hike, on this day she cruised through the deepening snow at an altitude of 9,000 feet like it was a walk in the park.

This is me and my man Terry -- still fit and adventurous at the ripe old age of 62 -- finishing our descent after a long day. We hiked up for about 2 hours, and at around 9700 feet the snow depth allowed me to put my new boards to use, soI dropped in for some decent, boot-high turns.
Sunday morning, I decided to try something a bit more ambitious. I was curious if I could summit Aspen Mountain -- the 3000' foot climb Lauren and I had suffered through twice during the summer -- only this time do it through the considerable snowpack, carrying my skis on my back, and -- due to everyone's unwillingness to wake for a 6 AM start -- go it alone.

I decided to keep a photo diary, just in case I wasn't seen again until someone unearthed me frozen stiff from a snow drift come spring. I arrived downtown at 6:30, and after changing in my office and getting my headlamp working (and snapping the official "start" photo in the mirror of my office bathroom), I hopped on a mountain bike and pedaled the three blocks to the base of the mountain.
I started the climb shortly before 7. Between my pack, my skis, my snowshoes, and some essentials, I was lugging somewhere between 20-25 pounds on my back. Luckily, the snow was relatively thin at the start, but by the time I had ascended roughly 500 feet, it had noticeably deepend. The sky was still dark, and snow was falling lightly as I stopped to take this shot of a sleepy downtown.
This time, I chose to take Summer Road as my means to the top. While much longer than the route Lauren and I took, it is also much more gradual. I also assumed that since the road doubled as a service road for mountain workers feverishly preparing for a Thanksgiving opening, it would be slightly more tracked out and make for easier hiking. I was wrong. As you can see above, even the tire tracks had filled in by the time I was a quarter of the way up the mountain. This would make for a LONG day.
About halfway up, I got a bit concerned when I realized that I hadn't seen another human all morning, on what I assumed would be a busy day due to the potentially tremendous skiing up top. It was also at this time that it dawned on me that in my morning haste, I had forgotten to pack any food or water. With the sun finally emerging from the clouds in all its ultraviolet splendor, I was getting quite thirsty, quite fast. Luckily, you can eat snow. So I did, and lots of it.
After three and a half of the most grueling hours of my life -- at one point above 10,500 feet, I was reduced to doing intervals of twenty steps followed by rest -- I made it to the summit. And the picture above provides all the proof I need! That is the view off the backside of Aspen Mountain, focused squarely on Aspen Highlands, the neighboring mountain we had hiked the previous day. To give you a bit of perspective on our rapidly changing climate, follow this link to a picture we took of Lauren and Natalie from the same vantage point on Labor Day weekend.

Once I got to the top, I called my wife to let her know I was alive, and tried to rest my useless legs for twenty minutes or so. I also happily drank from some icicles that were beginnig to melt on the Sundeck. I was the only person on the summit, which is quite likely to never, ever happen again. It was just a freak combination of the early hour, the heavy snow, and the uncertain conditions that left me feeling as though I was miles away from the nearest human.

Adequately rested, I started skiing, and found the snow much deeper and lighter (meaning better!) than expected. The result was about 1000 yards worth of some the most memorable turns I've ever had the privilege to make. To have a trail to yourself on a power day is a rarity; to have an entire mountain is simply inconceivable. When I reached the bottom of the first powder field, I had to stop and shoot a couple of photos, lest it never happen again.

Halfway down, I was forced to swap the skis for the snowshoes, as the snow coverage thinned to a level that would be hazardous to my new toys. From there, it was still another hour or so to the bottom, but I made it down safe, albeit exhausted and starving.

From there, I unlocked my bike, and discovered something wonderful: from the base of the mountain, I can coast to my office without pedaling even once. I'm fairly certain this will come in handy again at some point.

This is where having the greatest wife imaginable pays tremendous dividends. By the time I arrived home, there was a warm plate of banana pancakes waiting for me. God bless her.