Yeah so this one’s from a while back; late June it was. I worked a lot last Summer, ten day stretches, fifteen stretches were not unheard of. I was trying to stack cash (I took a long expensive field course last July).
Anyways, I finally got a day off, just one though. I’d been shredding some of the classic Independence Pass glisse alpinism routes earlier in the Summer and their was still a snow hanging up above twelve-five.
I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do, but before I headed to work the day before my off day, I threw every last piece of camping supplies I could come up with in my car. I told my Mom I was camping, but I had no idea where I was going.
I got off work around four, bought a can of beans an got my ass out of an over crowded Aspen and up the pass. I hit a trailhead just below the top of the pass on the west side. It seemed good enough for me and I pulled over. My car was a mess of outdoor related equipment.
I cracked a brew. It’s beautiful up on the divide that time of year.
I started throwing shit in my pack. Tent? Yes. Sleeping bag? Yes. Stove? Eh, fuck it. Skis? I see some snow. Beer? Oh, fuck yes.
The pack was fucking heavy. I’d never carried skis, ski boots, and an summer overnight kit before. Shit was heavy. Snow line was still higher.
I wish I had a picture of that pack, but some of the people I passed on the way up do. The first couple coming down the trail stop me.
“I gotta get a picture of this. This is what my son want to do.”
“Go head” I said, smiling. I rather like being an oddity.
“What are you planning to ski?”
I paused a moment. I hadn’t really put too much thought into it. I couldn’t quite see what was feasible yet, but I saw a nice line on the horizon that looked fun.
“Maybe that.” I pointed. I think they figured I’d have something more concrete.
We exchanged the good luck pleasantries, and I headed out.
“Wait” the man said “Is that a guitar you got?”
“Naw, its a ukulele, I like a pack light”
And that was it. From then I was alone.
Mountain Porn
I headed up towards the peaks, eventually leaving the trail, and fording a few streams before finding a nice flat spot just below snowline to pitch my tent. I began drinking (aggressively), watching a storm move in and playing the ukulele.
Supplies for the long haul
Then the storm came in, and she came in hard. Their I was alone in my tent wrapped up in my sleeping bag, hail hammering the fly, thundering cracking, strumming my ukulele. Fucking hammered.
I’ve been on quite a few solo backpacking trips, ranging from a week to overnights. Sometimes I can hold it together and seem like a normal kid, but eventually, I lose mind and become my alone in the woods self.
My alone in the woods self is a maniac. Drugs and alcohol have been known to speed up this process.
I became my alone in the woods self.
The hail came down. I strummed my ukulele, eventually settling on a favorite Lucksmith’s tune, “The Great Dividing Range.” Its funny, there I was singing;
“Turn the page if these mountains make you miserable The Great Dividing Range merely proves were indivisible”
A Maniac Alone
Well, I’ll tell you something, the storm cleared, I passed out in my good old sleeping bag and in the morning it was glorious.
And after six IPA’s at 12,500 feet, I felt like shit. But hell, I shouldered my pack, strapped on my skins and headed up a likely couloir. I like hiking when I feel like shit, it builds character.
An hour later, I was clinging to a ski pole stabbed into the side of the coulior, puking my guts out. “How the fuck you gonna get yourself outta this one Giulio?” It was a no fall zone, a fall would have sent off into space and then onto scree, miles from help, and months from someone finding my body.
Shit got real.
I was stoked.
I couldn’t quite focus my eyes, but I made it a ten or so metres further up to a ledge to rest on. I ate a handful of granola, had a swig of water and clicked into my skis.
Then I sent the bitch.
“The Great Dividing Range merely proves were indivisible.”
Yeah, its was a little fuct, but I had a grand time. I worked double shift the next day.
Shoulda Worn Boots 