One of the many things that makes alpinism a razor to the spirit is indeed the sometimes nearness of tragedy. Recent deaths of pro skiers during movie filming and now during a ski competition bring this to the fore.
Myself and a friend, Saturday at Marble. |
Appropriate balance of risk and reward is always a worthy topic — as your blog comments of a few days ago show. Yet beyond that, when bad things happen in the mountains we need to examine all the beautiful blessings that continue in spite of tragedy. Certainly those who’ve passed would want that for us. Thus, to look at the bright side is tribute.
Case in point: On Saturday my wife and I headed up to the Colorado alpine for some backcountry skiing. It was the first clearing day after yet another big storm, and we didn’t know what to expect. Turned out some of the snow was transitional, but much was still beautiful fluff. At the top, someone said “welcome to the last day of winter.” So right they were. We had a fine run, under the smiling eyes of those no longer with us. A blessing, and more.
Above, blessed by Saturday’s powder. Each turn a prayer; each a request for the next, and an asking that others would receive the same. And every slice of fluff also a word of praise and thanks for the bountiful life we’ve been given. |
Take a look at this “God’s eye” view of Iceland from the tiny door porthole at the rear of the European passenger jet we were on last week. Imagine you’re the Guy upstairs, looking down on those Icelandic mountains. You zoom in (because of course you have Superman vision), and yep, there is a skier down there. You smile because hearing prayers is your thing, and those are mighty fine turns. |
WildSnow.com publisher emeritus and founder Lou (Louis Dawson) has a 50+ years career in climbing, backcountry skiing and ski mountaineering. He was the first person in history to ski down all 54 Colorado 14,000-foot peaks, has authored numerous books about about backcountry skiing, and has skied from the summit of Denali in Alaska, North America’s highest mountain.