When I look back on life, it's easy to create a new story of how things really happened. The mountains were bigger, the snow was deeper, the friends were always there, when you needed them most. Every now and then, I feel a longing for those lost, golden years, when everything was perfect and new and exciting, when I was stronger and smarter, and was ready for anything.
Just a few days...
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Sometime in the winter of 1997, Doug Lucas, Andrew Sheppard, Matt McCune, Tim Ohlson and I decided to make a not-so-well planned technical climb to the top of an unknown peak, deep in the Crazy Mountains.
I remember this trip as being my first very real, very life threatening, frozen alpine experience. We never made it to the top. Our naive experience was squashed by the sub-zero temperature and the flaky, ice covered rock wall that was supposed to hold our ice axes.
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On the first day of summer, July 21st 1997, Doug Lucas and I made a trip to Grand Targhee Ski resort. The ski area was long closed, but the snow was still deep above 7000 feet. We hiked the 2 miles to the top of the ridge.
I remember this trip as being my first very real, very life threatening, frozen alpine experience. We never made it to the top. Our naive experience was squashed by the sub-zero temperature and the flaky, ice covered rock wall that was supposed to hold our ice axes.
2
On the first day of summer, July 21st 1997, Doug Lucas and I made a trip to Grand Targhee Ski resort. The ski area was long closed, but the snow was still deep above 7000 feet. We hiked the 2 miles to the top of the ridge.
It was the deepest bluebird day with crystal clear views of the Grand Tetons. We skied the backcountry for two days, camping just below the summit.
The skiing was buttery perfection.
3
Sometime during the frosty fall of 1997, Keith (Turfmonger) Mortensen and I hiked to the rim of the Frazier Lake Bowl, just north of Sacajewa peak, in the Bridger Mountains.
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Sometime during the frosty fall of 1997, Keith (Turfmonger) Mortensen and I hiked to the rim of the Frazier Lake Bowl, just north of Sacajewa peak, in the Bridger Mountains.
In Montana, the late afternoon colors of November are simply fantastic.
On our way back down the mountian, the sun was setting behind Sacajewa peak. To date, this is still one of the most magical displays of natural color I have ever seen.
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Thanksgiving 1997. Winter had began early by dumping 15 inches of the famed Montana Cold Smoke on top of an already solid base layer. Bridger Bowl ski resort was not open yet, but that only worked to our youthful advantage. It was cold and snowing heavily at 5am when Ian Klepetar, Ben Ramsbottom, a few others and I started the slow hike from the resort parking lot.
We hiked to the top of the "fingers", a terrain feature near the old south boundary. The snow was waist deep. Ian dug a avalanche pit and I believe we found the avalanche risk to be very high. We made chest deep face shot powder turns for hours.
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Oh...give me a home...
Where the buffalo roam!
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In the late 90's, Bozeman, Montana was still a just a cow town without a Home Depot. It didn't have a super Walmart or Starbucks. 19th avenue was still mostly bordered by farmland. 4-Corners was still just a bar and a gas station. That was already a lifetime ago, just before the madness of the boom time.
The summers were slow and endless. With nothing but time, my comrades and I would find simple things to do.
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In the late 90's, Bozeman, Montana was still a just a cow town without a Home Depot. It didn't have a super Walmart or Starbucks. 19th avenue was still mostly bordered by farmland. 4-Corners was still just a bar and a gas station. That was already a lifetime ago, just before the madness of the boom time.
The summers were slow and endless. With nothing but time, my comrades and I would find simple things to do.
The Green Bridge, up stream from "Brad Pitt" rock, on the Gallatin River.
Working on our game.
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For Spring Break in 1998, 7 dudes loaded 7 mountain bikes into my 1986 dodge ram van and headed for Moab, Utah. 7 days to recreate, rock climb and ride the beautiful slick rock.
Matt McCune, performing what I like to call, the "Impossible."
Doug Lucas on a 5.13-14ish...Along Moab Kane Creek Blvd.
While out riding on our 4th or 5th day, someone came into our campsite, went through every tent and every bag, stealing every last piece of climbing gear. Something like $10,000 worth. They left everything else. They even went into my tent, climbed over my $500 Marmot Dryloft sleeping bag and took the Carabiner that hung my candle lantern from the tent ceiling. Dedication.
There were also chocolate chip cookies involved.
A couple more...
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Posts
Never stop taking pictures! Some have the stories in their foggy memory. You have them in crisp, vivid detail.
ReplyDeletethe pure sickness.... i possess the foggy
ReplyDeleteReading this post reminds of one of the greatest times in my life. I very extremely fortunate to have been in Bozeman during that time. We were all full throttle with nothing to lose except for missing out on the next experience. I'd do it all again with no hesitation. Thanks for the photos and the words.
ReplyDeleteRemember the play? The one the three of us saw on campus....
The play? Shakespeare? Was it good?
ReplyDelete