Other times it’s appropriate to just drift the drift.

And of course it’s appropriated to paint tree covered canvases with moar different esses.

Even with the fresh snow it was easy to get caught staring at the mountain mmmmainsfield.

I said MOAR, moar different esses!

And as the day is winding down, after consuming all that surprise soft serve it is necessary to jump in jubilation!

Yesterday the prognosticator of all prognosticators Puxatony Phil gave his prediction of 12 more weeks of winter.  Well Phil, what do you mean 12 more?  Because I’m still waiting for it to start.  Was I just spoiled by last years snowmageddon?  Yes and no.

So far this year’s snow pack

Is a far cry from the smattering that was 2011.

I mean I was “backcountry skiing” in RHODE ISLAND!

However when the previous 3 years are added to the picture, 2012 is still slacking considerably.

There is still coverage approaching average levels the further north you travel, but that coverage is currently bulletproof. Almost every snow event has been preceded or followed by rain. So it’s been get after it during the storm or stick to the groomers. Skiers are growing wearing of making that “it’s great basebuilding snow” lemonade.

So save those sicks days, and get when the getting window opens.

Unfortunately the Gopro mangled the footage.

Unfinished/Untitled:

Mellow couloirs under big exposure:

Powder pillows:

Conversations can be carried on in one word sentences, and hysterical bouts of laughter lasting minutes can be triggered with a glance.

Upon return the city folk will look at you with a crooked face and ask “What happened to you guys out there?”

What happened you ask? I’ll tell you, but it won’t help explain. You’ll just have to create your own adventures and then maybe after you’ve endured an experience of your own will you begin to get IT.

This is what went down:

Friday evening after work and a rare traffic free approach from Boston we hit the trail for once getting a head start on our adventures to come. Temps were below freezing and snow fall was tapering off leaving a fluffy 1″-2″ where the wind couldn’t blow it away.

After a quick but eventful mile with river crossings, mud in the consistency of a half frozen freezer pop and wetness in general, we scouted out a suitable campsite location off the trail. We constructed a fantastic fire pit and carefully arranged the fuel for our fire. Tired and cold we were all excited by the prospect of sitting around the campfire eating some hot apple turnovers. A strike of the match interrupted our fantasies and the glow of the match grew our tinder of dryer lint covered in vasoline.

Not even a hiss or crackle and the ball of light pathetically faded out. Everything was soaked and cold. We valiantly kept at it for too long, and finally attempted to cook the turnovers with bitch bark flames. Failing miserably of course. We called it quits at 1:30 AM negating our evening head start with a clear late start and lack of sleep following in the morning.

Sounds great so far, right?

As morning came so did our outlook.

We could put our lack of sleep behind us over a hot cup of joe and tasty breakfast burrito’s.

Our bodies and minds back at neutral we plodded up the super scenic Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail.  We could see the valley’s below spared from winter’s snowy strike.

We climbed along frozen cascades

and eventually entered the alpine zone, leaving the trees below us, for a very long while.

Lake of the clouds hut greeted us sitting quietly; empty and boarded up for the season.

Monroe a quick jaunt to the south, Washington to the north.

Uuuuuuuup to Madison.

On top ‘o that mountain.

Clear skies all around.

And back down.

Monroe in the distance, we make our way to the next.

That sequence really was awesome (no sarcasm)

The summit cone of Washington proved to be a much different environment from the brisk winds and clear skies of Madison.  The visibility was shifting second to second as clouds flew by and hurricane force winds blew us every which way.  We paused at the summit for just long enough to snap a shot and ran backwards off the rockpile shielding our faces with our backs.

Off the summit the winds would not relent, but sun kept fighting through the rolling in clouds.

The beautiful scenes weren’t enough to take our minds of the hurricane force winds hammering us.

The wind altered our plants of hiking along the presidential ridge to our favorite cabin, Grey Knob.

Mucking up the first turnoff down the west side we stubbornly kept going to the next trail added a few miles to our round trip.  Still on the exposed ridge, we crouched behind cairns to find respite from the howling winds. The sun set while we were still on the ridge, and we were left in dark hidden from the moon by a thick cloud cover.

At last we turned west down the mountain.  Unfortunately we were now marching directly into the the wind.  It was blowing so hard that the snot from our runny noses felt like it was making it’s way into our brains.  The Caps ridge trail proved a tricky beast with some rock scrambles required and several false tree lines.  Our tired bodies not amused by these cruel jokes.

What seemed like an eternity later, the actual tree line was breached and a suitable tent site was claimed.  We celebrated shelter from the ferocious winds by feasting on burritos, cheeses, cured meats, and craft beer.  We cooked everything on the  stove in the vestibule from inside the tent and our sleeping bags.  Now that is comfort food.  More of the same for breakfast and plenty of dilly dallying later we were on our way.  On our way back to civilization.

Looking back, did I enjoy searching the beam of my headlamp for the next cairn while the wind burned my face?  Of course not, but I’d surely not trade in the experience.  Am I a gluton for harsh environments?  Maybe.

Wake up, pop a cold one, go outside and enjoy this giant playground called Earth I’m thankful for!

Come October the opportunity to get some turns is possible for a brief window as experienced last year.

A similar event opened up the season this past Wednesday, again at Killington. Not quite enough to warrant a Powder sick day.   It was looking like October skiing would not be an annual event for me.  But then, a system everyone had written off, the models showed it going out to see, started to shift back inland.  Snow totals grew with every new model run.  It was looking like that wait was going to be over, and the first turns of 2011-2012 would there for the taking Sunday morning.  Lodging was secured closer to the highest snow totals (Western, MA) and touring partners contacted.

I arrived in Belchertown just after the precipitation transitioned from rain to snow.  The power went out early and through the night we listened to the cracks and booms of trees falling from the weight of the snow on all the leaves the trees had not yet shed.

We awoke to a winter wonderland.

No, it was not a wonderland.  There was carnage everywhere.

Parked anywhere else, the suby would be subaru pancake.  No, it was not a winter wonderland, it was… SNOWTOBER.

There was at least a foot here, and who knew how much anywhere else.  No power, no water, no cell service, and our cars blocked in the driveway by massive trees.

So much for those early bluebird turns, once again it looked like October skiing while so close yet unreachable was spoiled. The wait continues.

By noon, we had hacked our way out and cleared a path through the driveway so our cars could escape.  Driving into town under multiple fallen trees across the road I was finally able to contact Nick, who let me know that the Berkshires had indeed received some of the highest snow totals.

Snowtober’s treats.

It was mid afternoon before we started up the skin track.

There wasn’t much fluff left to the snow.  The temp was well above freezing now.  This will be interesting.

But definitely fun, as another skier hooted and a hollered all the way down.

It was DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

So deep that we had a decent free of core shot worries.

All that was left to do was point ‘em downhill and go.  Hello 2011-2012 ski season HOW YA DOING?

It’s only OCTOBER!? Could have fooled me.

Snowliage in Snowtober, I guess it makes sense, but since when did snow become a prefix?

Approaching Big Slide Mountain via the three brothers the season is clearly Autumn.  The air and leaves holding that classic crispness.

As sea level falls below our feet, so does the season.  I can feel the harsh bite of winter piercing the atmosphere.  Dreary clouds blot out the sun, the wind picks up, and fat rain drops splash around us at a slow cadence.  We can both tell it wants to snow.   As winter jams a foot in the door and then a hand it appears to sleet for a moment.  Was that snow? Now?  No, not yet.  That first flake of the season can be an elusive one.  We climb on.  Colder.  Wetter.  Now?

YES, clearly the good stuff. Much clearer than this picture indicates.

Our enjoyment was short lived as winter slunk back into its hole, the sun checked out and we were left with a cold rain that had picked up in intensity.

Nevertheless time spent in the mountains is always better than time spent at a desk, it was also pretty jaw dropping to view first hand the destruction caused by hurricane Irene. It looked like a crew of giants had clearcut swaths 100 yards wide down stream beds, pulling up full grown trees like weeds and tossing them in random piles as the went along.

And of course it wouldn’t be a trip in the mountains without some waterfall viewing.