Finals Week, Part II

In the midst of studying for my calc final today, my friend Carl and I went on what is most likely my last distance ski before heading back home to Anchorage at the end of this week. This whole time I have been at MSU, I’ve compared everything here to how it is at home in Alaska. I am proud of my home state and the supreme opportunities it gives me to have fun in the outdoors, but today I got my first feeling that Bozeman might compare in some ways to the outdoor impressiveness of Alaska.

Carl in distance mode.
Sparse conditions, but the groomers (and we) made it work.

Carl and I went to Bozeman Creek Trailhead to ski, and although all of Bozeman has been skiing on the same “one-dump” snow this whole season, the trails have held up rather impressively. It was sunny, and as we skied up the canyon I started to fall into a groove that I haven’t felt in a couple seasons. It’s hard to describe, but it’s that feeling when you’re so happy doing what you’re doing you forget that it’s exercise, or training at all, and every move becomes effortless. Coming off a rough start to this season, this feeling is promising that things are on the upswing. There's no better feeling than when things start to click.

Still Climbing. Carl was having fun with the camera's color mode

We climbed farther and farther up the canyon, and in no time at all we were farther than I had ever been along the trail. We would ski in the cold shade of the trees, and every so often emerge towards a sun-soaked vista of the valley. We were so high up we had almost climbed to the top of one of the mountains, and from our well-groomed perch we could see on the other side of the valley the trail we had come from below. It was satisfying to get so high in the mountains from such a low starting point. At our turnaround point, we stopped and looked down at the trail that ultimately took us to where we were, and I realized that even though the trail was not in the ideal condition, and that I was skiing on my rock skis, everything seemed to work. We thought nothing about the setbacks of poor snow or hitting an occasional rock and had the most fun I’ve had in a long time.      

At the turnaround. Now my jacket is green

The trail goes all the way to the top of the mountain, and then follows a ridge even further up the canyon. The grooming stops after a while, but breaking trail is just as exciting as skiing corduroy. One day soon I will be back to go further.