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Worst powder day ever!

So the other day, in response to the weatherman’s (pathetic) attempt at snowfall prediction, Mike, another friend, and I headed up to Rocky Mountain National Park to do a bit of backcountry skiing.

The park had easily gotten two feet of fresh snow. Perfect skiing conditions!

Unfortunately, none of the roads had been plowed for us to get to any skiing.

After skinning along a road for three hours for a measly 50 feet of vertical drop, Mike officially declared the ski adventure the worst powder day ever!

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Back from the backcountry

A slew of friends and I had a wonderful time this weekend heading deep into the Colorado wilderness to find Carl’s Cabin.

We had more snow than we could have hoped for, delicious food and even warm beds (hard to come by eight miles into the backcountry).

It was awesome.

But I do have to admit now that I’m back home, it is rather nice going to the bathroom without that cold backdraft of stink wafting up from the latrine depths below.

At the trailhead, getting ready to take off.

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Snowy Boulder reflections

If I was a poet, I’d spend some time describing the peace of this morning’s snowy run–the trees burdened with heavy powder, the quiet broken only by the pound of my footsteps …

But because I’m not, I feel like I should tell you about the wicked snot rockets I was able to launch, since the cold induced my nose to run just as hard as my feet were.

They were awesome.

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