
We humans love our lists. The best movies. The greatest novels. The longest rivers. The fastest land animals. The tallest mountains.
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We humans love our lists. The best movies. The greatest novels. The longest rivers. The fastest land animals. The tallest mountains.
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In the Alps, along the borders of France, Italy and Switzerland there is a hiking route well-known among backpackers called the Tour du Mont Blanc.
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After Pikes Peak, probably the most widely known mountain in Colorado is Mount of the Holy Cross. Unlike Pikes, which sits on the Front Range flush against the prairie, staring drivers from the east in the face for miles, Holy Cross is hidden deep in the Rockies. It only reveals itself to those willing to hike. And as I discovered, hike a lot.
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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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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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Do you ever get a thought or idea in your head that just won’t go away? One of those brain worms that burrows in to your subconscious and persists over months, popping into your head at the weirdest times? Over the past couple of years, for me it has been the thought of skiing the Angel of Shavano.
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After my recent ignoble defeat on the Wetterhorn, I was thinking that I would be ending my 2022 climbing season on a down note.
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