I carried you each with me yesterday as I completed two uphill laps on Big Mountain. Thank you for having my back, supporting me and DREAM. At one point, I pictured you all there, skinning up with me.
The forecast said it would be raining so I packed lots of clothes, including two rain jackets, but when I arrived around noon, dark clouds were giving way to bluer skies and not one raindrop fell while I was skiing. It was cooler and less windy, too.
The conditions were mixed. In spots, the surface was straight ice. This was noticed by one of three young skiers I overheard repeatedly saying, "The ground is hard!"
In other places, slushy snow caused a bit of slipping. I've no complaints about the weather or conditions.
My first ascent time was an hour and six minutes. At my best, I could make it in under an hour. 
Shortly into my second lap, I felt pain, much like that caused by a neuroma, in my left foot. Quickly, I determined the problem was the insole I had recently installed. I removed my boot, pulled out the insole, put it in my pocket and continued. After a pitch, it felt better, though I did stop a few times to wiggle my toes and assess the situation. Thus, I was slowed dramatically.
Near the top, Chance Cooke passed me and said, "You're the journalist!" 
Summoning all my strength not to blurt out, "You're a super star, otherworldly madman beast!!" Rather, I said. "Well, I work for the Whitefish Pilot." 
"That's a journalist," he said, already 10 feet past me.
"I'm really a potter," I declared, somehow thinking it was important for him to know.
"That's even better," he said.
A few meters later I heard Cooke ask another skier, likely an event volunteer, to prepare another pair of skis with skins at the bottom.
I watched Cooke climb and tried to do what he was doing. I put my head down and took steps -- left, right, left, right.
When I looked up he was already two soccer fields away, beginning the final pitch. 
When I made it to the summit, Charles, a young man I'd met on my first lap was there. He had just completed 9 laps. His previous personal record was 8. He told me Cooke had completed 10 and he assumed he was finished. I told him what I'd heard about a fresh pair of skis. When Charles skied away, he said he was very hungry. No doubt.
Cooke and his friend each skied 11 laps yesterday in 10 hours. Last year, when he skied 10 laps, I was dumbfounded. This year, I am gobsmacked. It is really an unimaginable feat, even though all I do is imagine it.
The uphill route is called the Benny Up trail and is 1.4 miles long with an elevation gain of 2,052 feet.
At the party in the parking lot after the event, the downhillers were having a good time -- all costumed and smiling. None of them seemed sweaty or tired.
Again, I won nothing at the raffle and I heard a couple people scoff at my two laps. That was very uncharacteristic of the vibe at this event. I'm trying to chalk it up to fatigue or the state of the nation.
Julie Tickle, executive director of DREAM, talked briefly about the power of showing up. DREAM is an organization that provides outdoor recreation in Northwest Montana. It doesn't let weather stop it. She said they always show up and will figure out a way, always with safety at the forefront, of course. The fact that DREAM always shows up takes away doubt and, in a way, removes an obstacle to recreating.
Often, showing up is the hardest part, but moving is always better than not moving.

March 21. View from the summit on second lap. The true summit is just above the top of Chair 4, seen here at far right.

March 21. The summit on second lap.

March 21. Looking west from the summit.

March 21. View from the summit after first lap. That's my finger getting in the frame, not my nose.

Hello slo-mo ski-mo fans.
I made it to the summit today despite a physical, emotional and spiritual challenge this week. Sunshine and fresh air are good medicine.
I made a couple adjustments to my awesome boots. When they arrived and fit, I didn't bother to investigate the contents of the box. In the box with the boots was a bag with insoles, shoelaces and two, black, plastic, curved squares. I installed the insoles and found the boots fit even better. Delighted, I researched the squares and found they are spoilers, meant to fit between the shell and the liner at the back of the boot to give more of a forward feel on the downhill. Unbelievably, the boots are even better now. Amazing.
If the shoe fits ... maybe try adding insoles and spoilers?
Thanks for your support.

March 15. The cloud lifted just north of the tree.

March 15. View from the summit.

To honor today's weather - snow, fog, rain and rime,
I tried to make words sound the same this time.
I left the truck with such haste, 
my fleece still tied 'round my waist.
The scant skiers there knew not where they'd been,
skied despite the weather like mad Englishmen.
Wondering how much rainy-er it could get
a strange sensation - both my elbows were wet.
Yes, they were wet - I'm not just goofing
Seems my 20-year-old jacket needs some water proofing.
I made it past the pitch with the tree
before turning around cuz I just couldn't see.
On the downhill run I pretend it's a race,
but today it was dark and there was rain in my face.

March 7. Looking downhill at the tree of deception.

It was another unseasonably warm day and I nearly quit early. The decision to keep going is less of a conscious choice and more like an involuntary drive. I feel fortunate for this feature of my operating system because if my mind was in charge all the time, I would never experience success of any kind.
Were I to recall what I consider successes in my life, they likely happened because my body took over. It refused to let my mind think us into a matted mess of cyclical nonsense.
That reminds me of a bumper sticker my friend told me about this week. It said, "Don't believe everything you think." 
Thank you for joining me on the Shred Fest.

March 1. The Great Northern looking majestic along with all its other snow topped neighbors.

Hello everyone. Today I was completely and appropriately attired and I made it to the summit.
It was a stunning, blue sky afternoon. After a late start, I had a good hike and when headed home, joined the mile-long parade of cars leaving the resort for the day. 
I'm still learning about my gear. Stepping into the binding is easy on flat ground, but when I'm on a slope, it is tricky. I don't have the leashes attached, so the possibility of the ski sailing away when want it to click onto my boot is a real one.
I am, however, getting faster on the downhill and building more confidence in the new, super lightweight set up.
Thanks again for your support.
 

Feb. 22. The top of Inspiration, town and Flathead Lake on the horizon to the right.

Feb. 22. Another view from the summit. Looking east-ish.

Feb. 22. A view from the summit.

Today, I remembered my knee brace but I wore the wrong pants - the wrong trousers, as Wallace and Gromit would say. Anyone who's ever worn the wrong pants knows how disconcerting it can be. Still, I made it to within two pitches of the summit.
Heated up by my insulated pants, I stopped to remove my gloves and later, my hat. That's right, I was skinning up the hill for a time with nothing on my head. Speaking of stripping, I may or may not have flashed a man in the parking lot when I was preparing for today's hike. Details of that story are available upon request.
I fear I am not instilling a great deal of confidence in my ability to complete multiple laps this year. Sure, I'm in terrible shape, haven't been able to run for five months, been coping with mild illness and injury, but as long as there is snow on March 21, I will be skiing multiple laps.
Enjoy the photos, especially the one featuring the north side of the tree of deception.
Thanks again for your support.

Feb. 15. The tree of deception.

Feb. 15. Looking uphill at final two pitches.

Feb 15. Looking downhill from stopping point.

Feb. 8. One goal for today was to go farther than I'd gone my last two times out and I succeeded by a little over a pitch. The second goal was to make it to the Tree of Deception, but I did not.
I realized when I arrived at the hill that I'd forgotten my knee brace. That caused me to shorten my attempt and be a bit tentative on the downhill.
The conditions were slippery. Sometimes, I'd take a step, only to slide back. It makes it difficult to keep one's rhythm.
The snow consistency was like a compressed slushy. So, if you are aware of snow conditions or Seven Eleven beverages, you are able to imagine what it was like out there.
Thanks for your support in this endeavor. 

Feb. 8. Looking uphill, toward the tree of deception.

Feb. 8. Looking downhill.