Life in Alaska has taken on a more positive note. Each day the sun rises higher and higher in the southern sky, moving ever so slightly to the west each evening. As the coldest month of the year, February can be the bone chilling, final frozen cherry on top of an already dark, brutal winter pie. While those in the lower 48 are preparing for corn snow and the beginning of spring, we can look forward to at least two more solid months of winter.
February; You could have fooled me. It’s only the start of the month, but we’ve begun with moderate temps, a strong chinook, surprise snowfall and great skiing. Yes…mid winter epicness in the Talkeetnas. I know. It’s crazy. The usual weekend crew rolled up to the valley and we had two great days of skiing following last week’s storm and warm event. A lot of south faces had been worked by the wind and the return of radiant warm solar presence in the sky. What a difference a month makes. For the first time in two months, I’ve been able to session, tour, relax, and fully enjoy the mountains. No frozen fingers, wooden club toes, or the fear that slowing down will cost you the thinnest sliver of light..any light. Our margins are increasing, we’re coming into the best time of the year to be in the mountains.
As great as the weekend skiing was, especially Sunday with it’s surprise bluebird sky, it was Monday and Tuesday that really made my week. As a general rule, I don’t have much to complain about. I’m skiing a lot. I may not be hoarding away the bucks for my retirement right now, but screw it. Life is so damn good in the mountains. Erin and I were able to ski solo (solo…as in a spousal pair) for the first time in a few weeks, and we made our way up to nosebleed. As Erin was preparing to drop in, I was below her on the ridge lining up my photos and safety zones. Just before she pushed over the edge, a single raven, soaring on a thermal updraft, flew around the south face of microdot. There was no indication of where the bird came from, or why it was taking this strange route across the mountain peaks, just a single bird gliding in complete silence.  Just as the raptor crossed above the upper granite slabs of Nosebleed and on into Sydney Creek Drainage, another flew around the peak, gliding gently along the same draft. The second of the pair followed it’s comrade into the upper reaches of Archangel Valley. 
I wasn’t quick enough to capture this on my camera, but it was a humbling experience. As Erin pointed out just before she slipped her edges off the cornice…”Those are the souls of people who’ve passed to the other side.” Knowing that we are those same type of people, traveling in that same terrain, on this quiet, empty Monday at Hatcher Pass, well it was enough to make you stop and think. We let the birds pass, dropped in, and thanked the mountains for the often forgotten prospect that…out here, you don’t mean shit.
Getting lost the right way
I followed up the Monday session with an invite to a few Girdwood friends. I had my eye on a few lines I scouted the previous day. The snow was right, the temps were perfect, and the lighting was as good as it gets. Brian and Zack bit. They took the chance on Hatcher, on what everyone else was telling them would be shit, and were happily rewarded. What an amazing day of skiing at the pass. One things for sure; Maybe I won’t be rolling in dough, but I’ll have a hell of a lot of amazing memories when I’m old, gray and out of the game. Lots of memories; right before I take that last flight over the Microdot peak.
Check HPAC for snow and weather condition updates. See you in the mountains!
