Hand Drawn (and Hiked) by McCall

Hiya! Happy Wednesday from the beautiful mountains of Snowmass. I’m currently dogsitting a cute little grandma of a yellow lab named Colby. She’s 13 and needs more meds than I’ve ever seen a dog take, but she’s got some serious pep in her step.

Over the last two weeks, I had a lot of down time in my personal and professional life. Multiple days without meetings let me knock out some much needed long-form writing for my day job, and of course, that flow trickled over into my personal life.

All of that to say, I spent a lot of time thinking about my long term goals for this newsletter. What do I want this to turn into? What do I want to be writing about in a year? How do I want someone to describe this newsletter?

While I’m sure the answers to those questions will morph and transform over the next year, my current answers to those questions are below (and largely inspired by a good push from my dear friend Katie). Read on, and as always feel free to hit reply with some feedback.

Backcountry Chronicles

Last week while I was thinking about this newsletter, I went ahead and rewrote the automated welcome email that anyone who subscribes to this email gets. Candidly, I saw it as a great opportunity to reset the tone. Over the last few months, I caught myself shifting away from any semblance of prose and just regurgitating facts.

Moving forward, rather than simply provide an instructional manual for skiing, I want this to be about the human side of those experiences — and to infuse those narrative retellings with avalanche and backcountry information.

Since all of you lovely, lovely subscribers are already here and won’t get a welcome email, I thought I’d share it with you here. Without further ado:

I live in Colorado and run my own art business, Hand Drawn by McCall, where I make custom colored pencil prints of whatever piques my interest that week. I write from a tiny desk in my sunroom that’s surrounded by plants and books — an inconsequential detail, but it makes me happy nonetheless.

In the winter, I spend a ton of my time skiing. I love going into the backcountry, feeling small, and tossing around big questions. It’s about skiing, sure — but being in the backcountry, to me, is also an allegory for the hard stuff in life. 

It’s where it can be disorienting to parse your own desires and interests from the gatekeepers and old guards who aren’t exactly happy to welcome someone new into their sport; it’s where you figure out how to navigate situations where the margins for error are nonexistent, and it’s where you stand tall in the face of an excruciatingly demanding physical task.

But it also teaches you to stretch the limits of your own capacity and see yourself in a new way. It’s all too easy to get locked into an identity we created for ourselves in our early 20’s, when in actuality, everything about us is malleable.

In my eyes, the best way to pursue life is with the same ethereal reverence and curiosity that we pursue outdoor adventures with. There’s something so powerful about heading into an adventure, knowing full-well that you’ll be miserable for the next 8+ hours and still doing it — because you can, because you’re pushing yourself, and because you’ll prove to yourself that you can take on challenges in stride. 

I’m someone who learns by teaching, so as I continue to learn about avalanche terrain, slope angles, gear, and of course, myself, I write about it. My hope with this newsletter is to break down daunting topics and make them a little bit more digestible — and in turn, you, the reader, feel a little bit more confident to go out and skin up your favorite resort, sign up for your AIARE1, or buy a new journal and toss around a big question. Whatever your motivations are, I’m happy you’re here.

Artiste Break

For my 18×24 drawing series, I’ve been rendering these in Illustrator/Photoshop to create a reference and then drawing them. I don’t have a ton of progress updates on this drawing because I’ve been out of town so much lately, but here’s a sneak peek at what the next one should look like.

PS: as a friendly reminder, I’ll be at Infinite Monkey Theorem in RiNo on Sunday, 2/18 from 3-8PM selling art, hats, and cards made by my insanely talented friend Alexandra. Come say hi!

To Go Snacks

🎧 After this episode of Dirtbag Diaries about the Grand Traverse, I’m just delusional enough to think skiing the Grand Traverse needs a spot on my bucket list. The episode interviews Crested Butte legend, Pat O’Neill; the only person who has participated in the race every year since it began in ‘97. He reflects on the race, but also the ski partners and memories made along the (42 mile) way.

🏔️ I’ve read a lot over the years about climate change and skiing, but this NYT article about the snowpack decline really stuck with me. I came across it from listening to the latest BLISTER podcast where Cody Townsend (you knew his name was coming, didn’t you?) said “it feels like it’s easier to imagine the end of the world than it is to imagine the end of capitalism.”

📕 On the note of climate change, capitalism, and the outdoors, I’d be remiss if I didn’t drop in this long-form rec, Let My People Go Surfing by Yvon Chouinard, the founder of Patagonia. Yvon talks a lot about how it feels like the interests of our planet and our economy are oppositional to one another — and what we can do to combat that.

This is your friendly reminder that feedback and constructive criticism are always a good thing. Here’s one final thanks to Katie for pushing me to take this one a little further than usual. It felt good.

See you next time!

- McCall 🌻

Was this email forwarded to you? Subscribe here so you don’t miss the next one!