Tag Archives: winter

All That Science*

This week I’m posting an excerpt from an essay I wrote about skiing the Blackcomb Glacier in Whistler, B.C., last winter.

Whenever I write about skiing, I try to do it in a way that will appeals to people who don’t ski, as well as those who do. For me, it’s about more than technique or equipment or the freedom of speeding down a slope (though speed is immensely appealing). For me, skiing is about having rare access to places that would be difficult, if not impossible, to get to otherwise. It’s about being out in the world, and feeling far away from the every day even if I’m just an hour or two away from home. It’s about being immersed for a time the beauty of the mountains, of nature and silence, and remembering for a time that we’re all, each one of us, just small elements within a vast universe.

+++++++

Whistler’s Blackcomb Glacier: An Immense Geological Marvel

“What makes Whistler Whistler is geology: volcanos, rocks, ridges, altitude. What makes Whistler Whistler is the effect of the Pacific Ocean on the climate: rainforests, precipitation, temperature. What makes Whistler Whistler includes all of the elements of the natural world we learned about in school—all that science….

Just when I was about to catch my breath from the hike, it was taken away again by the vista before us. The immense cirque where the glacier originates gradually opens into a bowl so wide that the skiers traversing toward the middle looked like tiny moving insects even though just a few moments before they were regular-sized human beings.

It takes a moment to consider this, to feel the impact of your true size against the immense backdrop of land formations that evolved from forces that we can understand intellectually, but that are suddenly inexplicable when you’re staring right at them….”

 

*If you enjoyed this excerpt, I hope you’ll check out the complete essay in this season’s OutdoorsNW SNOW Guide and on the magazine’s website.

********************************************************************************************************************************

Please ignore any advertisements you see on this site.

Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under Imprint

*Letting Them Run

Appropriately enough, my last ski blog for OutdoorsNW this season was posted on the first day of spring. *Here is an excerpt. If you like it, I hope you’ll head over the the OutdoorsNW blog to read the whole essay and to see pictures from Mt. Bachelor in Oregon State, one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever skied.

Letting them Run

“’Your skis want to run,’ said Michael as I sat in the snow digging my ski free so I could stand up again. “’You’re holding them back.’

Our group had crossed a difficult ridgeline on the backside of the summit on Mt. Bachelor. Storms had scoured the surface, leaving sharp spikes of hoar frost in their wake. Like a receding high tide leaves ridges in the sand of a beach, the winds had left lines of rock-hard ice sticking up in thin strips across the face of the mountain. They looked fragile and beautiful in the sunlight, but they were unbreakable and caught our edges and tripped us up as we crossed.”

Click here to read the whole essay.

Now onto the spring ski season and ideas for new essays that may not (or may) have anything to do with nature or skiing or mountains. Oh who am I kidding? Never say never and all that.

***************************************************************

Please ignore any advertisements you may see on this page.

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Three Excerpts

I’ve been a little behind with posting excerpts from my ski blog over at OutdoorsNW Magazine. Here are some tidbits from my last three essays, click on the links for the complete texts. Enjoy!

From The Poles You Save May Be Your Own:

“’Hey, wait a second and I can help you,’ I said.

But, she took a step – whoosh – and was gone, rocketing down the slope upside-down and on her back. She eventually came to a stop, halfway down, a ski and two poles marking her crooked descent. The other ski was almost out of sight. The girl sat up as I made my way down, gathering her gear along the way.

By the time we got to the bottom, the instructor had made it over to meet us.

‘Thank you so much! Whoever you are!’ he said, smiling.

I’ll admit it. There was a split second there, the slightest moment, when I felt a little like a superhero – the mysterious stranger appearing in the nick of time to rescue the innocent bystander from imminent peril.”

From Vittels

“I could have made a New Year’s resolution that we’d become the family that packs cut-up fruit, artisanal sandwiches on home-baked bread and tubs brimming with quinoa salad for lunch on the weekend, but the truth of our ski food lies in two realms: the easy and the practical.

What will get us out the door in the shortest time possible? What is transportable? And, most importantly, what will we actually eat on a day in the mountains? (Historical note: not fruit and not salads.)”

From What Kind of Parents Let Their Kids…?

“Years ago I stood on a slope in utter disbelief as my 4-year-old, so tiny she had to be picked up and put on the seat by a lifty, sat alone on the lift chair, legs straight, skis just barely clearing the edge of the seat. Right above my head she went, a tiny fluff of down perched high above the snow. I’d been spying on her class from behind a rise, and she had no idea that my heart was pounding in my throat as I realized she could fall off that thing.

What was I doing, allowing this to happen? What if she was terrified all alone up there? What if the worst happened? What kind of parent lets her little kid ride up a lift by herself?”

***************************************************************

Please ignore any advertisements you may see on this page.

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Dorothy and Oz*

This is an excerpt from my essay for OutdoorsNW Magazine for this week.  If you enjoy it, I hope you’ll click over to the website to read the whole essay.

************

On a February morning in 2010 I was lying on my back in the snow feeling like Dorothy as I looked up at the faces of those gathered around me. They smiled encouragingly as it dawned on me…maybe my “agony of defeat” moment had been more than a typical wipeout. They were all there: the ski patrollers, my daughter and my husband, two neighbors, another friend, the kind man who had stopped and helped.

But the excruciating pain was gone, as was the shock of the fall, and I sat up.

“Oh, I don’t think I need that,” I said, looking at the patrollers’ sled. “I can make my way down.”

“Let’s just get you standing up,” one of them said. “Then we’ll see.”

They helped me to my feet and let go, but my leg just collapsed beneath me.

A friend gave me a knowing look.

“Don’t say it!” I said.

He didn’t have to.

The look said it all: blown knee, surgery, months of rehab.

***************************************************************

Please ignore any advertisements you may see on this page.

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

The Sounds of Silence*

My first snowshoe experience was on Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park in Washington State. It was a tame excursion, but I had never been so immersed in a deep winter environment. Afterward, my husband and I tried to hold in fits of laughter while watching a narrated film about winter in the park. “Winter melts into spring,” the narrator intoned as footage flashed on the screen. Every other word, it seemed, was a play on “silence.” It actually would have been better as a silent film.

We made up our own lines all day: The silent snow falls silently upon the silent trees silently waiting out the long, silent winter.

My favorite places take some effort to reach and, during the winter, special equipment. I like to stop in the middle of a steep run or on a Nordic trail lined by trees or next to an icy stream off a snowshoe trail. The effort is worth it. Once you arrive in places like these, what you see and hear pulls you right out of your comfortable little niche in the world.

I don’t listen to music on the trails like many people do because without it I can hear the “silence” of the world around me: My skis managing different kinds of snow – scraping across icy hardpack in the morning shade, muffled swipes through the softening snow in the afternoon sun. I can listen to what’s going on in the forest. The squirrel scolding me from the side of the trail as I pass. Rockfall echoing across a valley. Boulders crashing to the valley floor. Creaking branches of an evergreen swaying in the breeze, creating a moment of doubt. Is it going to fall?

It’s as if my sight sharpens, too, in these quiet moments, and I notice what I’d otherwise miss. The play of light on the mountainsides. The sparkling rainbows of snowflakes floating in the brightening morning. Different layers of snow colored by the angle of the sun. Blue ice peeking through a scraped-off mogul. The lone raven seeming to hang motionless, yet moving on its silent way from one side of the ski area to another.

Years ago, on an early morning Nordic ski in the Methow Valley, a gurgling creek kept me company as I skied toward the middle of the long, wide valley. The schussing of my skis hypnotized me a little, but I was called to attention by the unmistakable call of a bald eagle overhead. The eagle was making its lazy way in the same direction I was going. We paced each other for several kilometers before I turned back toward town and the eagle continued on its way.

It was a long time ago, but I remember the experience so clearly, as if it were a momentous event instead of a quick ski before packing the car to return to Seattle.

I still chuckle when I remember the melodramatic narration of the film, but I’m humbled by the silence it clumsily referenced, too. There’s a fine line between purple prose and the desire to share your astonishment at what you see around you. Maybe we should all just remain silent and watch and listen and keep it to ourselves.

Or maybe not.

*This essay was originally posted on the OutdoorsNW website in Winter 2013. http://outdoorsnw.com/2013/tales-from-the-lift-lines-ix-the-sounds-of-silence/

*****************************************************************

Please ignore any ads you may see on this site.

2 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized