A couple of weeks ago, while the high mountains were in less than ideal condition for skiing and the local trails were too soupy from snowmelt for mountain biking, I headed up into the network of gravel roads in the Arkansas Hills for some random exploring.
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It was time. After weeks of studying topo maps, watching the weather and checking the avalanche forecast; after one reconnaissance mission and numerous prayers to the snow gods, it was time. Time to ski Clover Mountain.
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I just liked the name of this antique piece of equipment parked at the top of Monarch Pass. There’s snow, let’s go!
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Something I love about living in Colorado is that sometimes Mother Nature just up and decides to shut the whole place down for a while. Don’t worry about that appointment, you’re staying in today.
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I’m still experimenting with the GoPro. A few days ago, I took it out for my first attempt at using it for backcountry skiing. Looking at the footage it captured I learned a couple of things.
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To this point in my life, I’ve resisted the temptation to buy a GoPro. Several reasons.
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Ever since I skied Mt. Shavano last spring I’ve been thinking about my next mountain. There’s no shortage of mountains around here. It’s sort of our thing. The question is, which one?
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Around here there are certain distinctly recognizable events that mark the changing of the seasons. Spring is the explosion of wildflowers in the mountains. It’s fall when the surrounding hillsides are covered in aspen gold. And you know its summer when highway 50 is jammed with campers with out-of-state plates.
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