* Chapeau to Doc Brown.

Greetings and happy 2022.  May it be less of a shitshow than 2021, although the way things are going, it doesn’t look promising.

Although there are clearly more pressing matters in the world these days, I wanted to talk about something else on my mind: learning new things.

The proverbial “they” say that as you get older it’s important to keep learning.  Got to keep the gray matter occupied:  conversational Spanish, crossword puzzles, phone brain apps, that sort of thing.  But here’s the deal, as an adult, learning new things is hard.  For one, it kind of sucks to be new at something.  After years of working up countless learning curves, I no longer have the energy to put myself at the bottom of another one.  And to be honest, even if I find the energy, I sometimes think that at this point in life my brain’s hard drive is just full.  Full of school and work, friendships and acquaintances, old song lyrics, bad movie lines, random memories, you know, life.   In order to learn something new I’m pretty sure I’ve got to erase something else on the disk to make room.

But there is one thing.  For the past few years, since we knew we were moving to Colorado, I’ve been intrigued with the idea of learning backcountry skiing.  I’ve skied at resorts for decades but I’ve never ventured beyond that.  And while resort skiing is great, there’s this whole other world out there waiting to be discovered, beyond the lifts on the other side of the boundary rope.  

Backcountry skiing requires a whole new set of gear (always an attraction), skills and, importantly, knowledge.  For Christmas this year Santa brought me the gear:  a complete alpine touring (AT) setup including skis, boots, bindings, skins and poles.  

New AT skis.

With skins attached.

So I’m standing squarely at the bottom of a new learning curve and it looks like I’m about to erase kindergarten finger painting from the hard drive.

To start backcountry skiing you don’t just head out into the mountains with boards on your feet.  Not unless you want to end up an avalanche statistic.  The knowledge part of backcountry skiing is avalanche safety and that requires formal classroom training and additional safety gear.  Instead, you start by getting used to the equipment and honing your skills in the resort by uphill skiing.  

Monarch Mountain has designated routes for uphill skiing and it’s free for season pass holders.

I’m finding it an interesting experience.  As expected, climbing a mountain on skis is hard but it’s also rewarding.  Much like mountain biking or hiking, there’s something very satisfying about getting to the top of a mountain under your own power.  Skin up the designated route, then ski down whichever run suites your fancy.

You get to skip the lift lines, typically the worst part of any inbounds ski day.  

And because of the effort required to climb, you stay warm on even the coldest days, which tend to be the days with the best snow.   

Top of Monarch on my first uphill ski!

You can even find a bit of history. One of the uphill routes on Monarch takes you to the top of Gunbarrel, the first run on the mountain, cut in 1936.  

There’s a historical plaque and the remains of the original rope tow still standing at the top of the run.

And although from the parking lot it’s one of the most visible runs on the mountain, Gunbarrel isn’t skied that much these days because it’s uphill from the current lift-serviced terrain.  This makes it a special powder stash for anyone with AT skis.  Woohoo! This is a learning curve I like.