You don’t always head out the door expecting greatness. Sometimes you’re not that inspired, your
motivation level is low and you just can’t seem to get stoked. A long night of drinking, lots of
crowds, gray-skull and no new snow, maybe you’re tired and just want to
chill. But some one or some thing
gets you out there, gets you going, and you find a spark. The rhythm of the skin track lets your
mind wander, a hole in the clouds burns through and a sunlit ridgeline
beckons. You make it to a summit,
the snow is softer then you thought, you’re with a friend you love, and you can’t
think of anything better in the world.
It’s times like these that we seldom recall and hardly count
on, but these are the moments that shape our lives, the times that remind us
why we live in the mountains. When
we start out with no expectations, little interest, and the mountains punch us
in the chest with a great big dose of perspective, dropping us to our knees and
leaving us gasping for more.
The stark contrasts of snow, ice, and rock, summit and air, sunlight
and shadows, have a knack for reminding us of this perspective, one that’s all
to easy to lose sight of amidst the chaos and insanity that is our modern world. Indeed that’s why most of us structure
our lives around the easy and often access to the mountains. Lot’s of us know that if more folks got
out there, and saw the things we see, the world might be a much less fucked up
place, but we continue to keep our mouths shut about it if it means we can keep
the wilderness to ourselves, and some sanity in our lives. The mountains always have a surprise,
sometime’s it’s a smackdown, sometime’s it’s scary, but often it’s the most
beautiful and rewarding experience you’ll have in your lifetime. Sometime’s you even remember to throw
in a camera, and you get to share it with your friends.
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