Hand Drawn (and Hiked) by McCall

Good morning! Cool news alert: Colorado’s snowpack is officially at above-average levels, thanks to the massive storm last week. We made it, folks.

Speaking of good news, how’s the extra daylight been treating you? I love the fact that the sun isn’t setting at 4PM anymore, though I’m not quite ready for winter to be over (SORRY!). If I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that I’m a cold weather person through-and-through.

Call me a masochist, but I miss January.

Backcountry Chronicles

Anddddd just like that, it’s spring — we’re officially into the time of year where you can ski in 20°F weather all day then drive back to Denver to find 65°F weather. As resorts start announcing their closing dates, I’ve been trying to really soak up the last of ski season.

I made it a goal for March to skin at least once a week before work, and two weeks ago, I went up to the mountains and skinned three times (!!) before work. All in all, conditions were generally great, but I definitely had some run-ins with questionable snow that made me appreciate the predictable terrain when I go skin at a resort.

After that week of getting up all too early to ski before work, I was absolutely gassed — and have an Oura sleep score of 98 on Friday to prove it — but I couldn’t help but realize how reflective of a state all that time in the backcountry put me into.

I worked harder during the day, I dove into tasks I’d been avoiding for art and design, and I sat down and read books at the end of the day instead of wasting the night away staring at my phone or watching reality TV (my vice, some might say).

Instead of instinctively reaching for my phone, I sat with silence and discomfort more. I love the feeling of strengthening that muscle of awareness that we all have. Where you feel yourself think about an emotion and recognize it before you act on it, or recognize an emotion as just that — an emotion! — not something that requires action.

On Saturday, I saw this post from Outside Magazine about uphill people vs. downhill people and it crystallized that feeling for me, and more importantly, why skinning is so profound to me. The author of the post says “And then there are those of us who believe a lifelong struggle against gravity is meaningful, or healthy, or something: the uphill people. Climbers, mountaineers, probably most hikers and trail runners.”

I have so many friends who I admire for how much they love the struggle against gravity and the struggle of life in general. Being able to understand the significance of discomfort, pain, and temporary deprivation is such a crucial muscle to living a worthwhile life.

I think there’s something so special in feeling seen in the characteristics of your friends — not just commonalities, the things that strike true to who you are.

One of my closest friends has such a dedication to personal growth, personal development, and internal inquiry that whenever we talk about it I feel so connected to her. Frankly, it’s probably the same muscle that contracts and feels annoyed by certain traits I observe in others — simply because they’re the traits I dislike about myself.

There’s a plethora of those comparisons I could make with so many of my friendships, but the bottom line is I’m just lucky to be surrounded by so many people I admire so deeply.

Ask anyone why they backcountry ski and you’ll probably hear some amalgamation of “earning your turns” and “getting out in nature”. While there’s meaning in both, you simply can’t beat the community of people. I’ve never passed someone on the skin track, or had someone pass me, without exchanging massive smiles and a “good morning!”. The energy in the parking lot at Berthoud is palpable with everyone exchanging information about what they skied and how the snow is.

With Q1 coming to a close, I’m just thankful for my friends, my hobbies, and the ability to do what I get to do every day. End sappy rant.

Artiste Break

My only project currently is a surprise for a friend, and even though they aren’t subscribed to this newsletter, I’m committed to the surprise and refuse to let a #leak ruin my gift.

In the meantime, enjoy this photo of me with two different skis on after my toe piece broke mid-tour on my AIARE1 — when you’re ~2 miles from the parking lot in calf deep snow, improvising is key.

If you’re looking at this and wondering how long you should tune or wax your skis, here’s a couple resources.

To Go Snacks

🎿 “Party Laps” and “14er” were two phrases I never thought I’d see in the same sentence but this Outside Magazine article about Mt. Shasta proved me wrong. Don’t get me wrong; it’s still a beast of an expedition but this looks fun as heck.

📺 Simply put, this film from Arcteryx, The Pass, is just insane. Rogers Pass is a stretch of highway in Canada that sees over 2,000 avalanches in that section alone — for reference, there have been about 1.2K recorded this season in all of Colorado (per the CAIC). Two women who worked together on avalanche mitigation for the pass reunite on a ski tour and reflect on the journey and mountain culture at large.

🏔️ As a Front Ranger™, my understanding of Silverton has always been pretty rudimentary (super remote town with great skiing and bad ass people, right?). I was doing some research on Silverton for work recently and this article about the divisiveness the town faced in 2020 was a phenomenal read.

💓 Small snack: I loved these thoughts from Lydia Keating (skip to the second slide) on putting yourself in the position to experience joy.

This edition is dedicated to whoever leaked the Eras Tour movie on YouTube and Kacey Musgrave’s new album. This entire newsletter was written with both taking turns as the backtrack.

- McCall 🌻

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