A Full Life

Hiya! Popping in to say that my heart is full and my soul is happy. I just spent the weekend on a hut trip with so many of my favorite people in the world. Shared hobbies are such a gift.

Over the last month, I’ve been working on an article about backcountry skiing for work (I’m spoiled, I know). The past weekend was the perfect cocktail for reminiscing on why I love the backcountry so much and I was finally able to find the final words to wrap up this article, so I thought my beloved newsletter subscribers (see also: friends who are nice enough to read my musings every other week) could get the first look.

Backcountry Chronicles

Ever feel like you love something so much that it’s impossible to put into words? Me too. That’s why this article took me over a month to write. Nevertheless, I finally landed the plane today and I’m excited to share it.

At the end of 2023, I went backcountry skiing for the first time ever. From there, the natural progression of interest-turned-hobby-turned-obsession took hold. I was hooked. 

The process of backcountry skiing is deliberate, almost meditative: waking up before the sunrise, packing up gear and double (see: triple, sometimes quadruple) checking that you don’t forget your skins. 

It starts with skinning up, one rhythmic step at a time, snow crunching under your skis as the world wakes up. You start cold and warm up as the sun rises, watching your breath freeze in the air. The real fun, though, starts after the grind — a euphoric descent through untouched snow, where gravity congratulates you on the hard work uphill and finally works with you. It’s fleeting and perfect. 

Skinning uphill isn’t fast and it isn’t flashy. It’s a quiet grind that strips away distractions. Your mind wanders at first, then narrows. Step, slide. Step, slide. You start hearing answers to questions you didn’t know you were asking. 

It’s that process of going into the backcountry, feeling small, and tossing around big questions that made me fall in love with it. 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 you stand tall in the face of an excruciatingly demanding physical task. 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. 

But it also teaches you to stretch the limits of your own capacity and see yourself in a new way. In my eyes, the best way to pursue life is with the same ethereal reverence and curiosity that we pursue outdoor adventures with. You lose yourself. You find yourself. You come back to your own awareness with a newfound sense of gratitude, strength, and capability. 

At the end of the day, being in the backcountry is a constant game of calculus where you’re balancing ego vs. humility; risk vs. consequence; your risk tolerance vs. your partner’s risk tolerance; toeing the line at the edge of your comfort zone and saying a silent prayer to the mountains that you don’t find it. 

That same game of calculus isn’t just for the mountains. It’s the same skillset we bring to work, whether we’re tackling a new project, stepping into uncharted roles, or challenging the status quo. The backcountry teaches you to trust your instincts, listen to the team around you, embrace the discomfort as a sign that you’re growing, and of course, respect the veto. It’s a reminder that the hard stuff — at work, in life, or on the skin track — often holds the most meaning. 

In the end, the lesson is the same: show up curious enough to ask the hard questions, prepared enough to navigate what’s ahead, and willing to grow — even when, especially when, it’s uncomfortable. 

Because when you stand on the summit, breathing hard and looking out over everything you’ve earned, the view is always worth it.

Artiste Break

More Pinterest inspiration art since I’m 20% done with the current piece I’m working on — also known as, it’s not ready to be shown. I thought a cute little reminder could do us all well this week.

To Go Snacks

⚽ Quite possibly the best news I’ve heard ever: the city of Denver is currently negotiating a deal to be home to the 16th team in the NWSL. I’m already geeking at the thought of Sophia Smith coming back to play for her home state.

⛷️ Aspen released their annual sustainability report which asks a wild question on its cover: What if we sued ExxonMobil for destroying the ski industry? They funded a groundbreaking study that showed U.S. skis areas lost $5 billion from 2000-2019 due to human-caused climate change. Highly recommend checking it out.

💄 The title of this article will probably give away why I loved it so much: I’m 45 and I look my age.

Short and sweet this week. Catch you next time!

- McCall 🌻

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