I recently went on a little trip. I learned and discovered some things. Here is an account of my experiences and thoughts along the way, with many tangents throughout. I hope you enjoy.
It’s Wednesday December 29th 2021, 10 AM. I have just loaded up the Tacoma and pointed this sucker southwest, for a little place called Silverton Colorado. The GPS on the ole cellular points out that I’ve got 6 hours and 7 minutes of drive time ahead of me, which is a little far, but it’s been snowing for the last week down there, and my lovely bride gave me the green light to head on out.
I’ve packed a new little device that my good pal Jeff Bezos sent me: a voice recorder. The object of this handy little device is to take some vocal notes along the way so that my little goldfish brain can recollect some of the occurrences of this trip a few days down the road. The hope is I can collect something of value and share it with my tens of followers on social media. I understand that this whole “value” portion of the previous sentence may be unlikely, but what the hell, we’re going to give it a shot.
I spent some time investigating the proper route to take to get to this little gem of a town. We’ve got two options. Option 1 – Take I-70, past all those high fluten ski resorts that I will not be skiing at, then you hook a hard left at Grand Junction and head south down to Silverton. Option 2 – Take 285, which I like to think of as the “workin’ mans” highway, which is a slightly more direct route. I’m sure this may be obvious, but we opted for the direct route.
Tangent: I’ll continue to refer to myself and my solo trip as we. Not sure why, I just like it, so roll with it.
Both have their pros and cons. If we were to get a significant snow event, I don’t believe the maintenance on the workin’ mans highway is quite as good as our pals over there on I-70. Our good friends over up on I-70 gets more attention during and after snow events, while the lowly “workin’ mans highway”, may not receive quite the love if we were to receive some weather. What ole 285 has going for it is that it is not lined with hoards of humans heading to these monstrous resorts. So, we like our chances.
The weather is nice, that’s good. Blue skies, that’s good. No signs of snow, that’s good. Quite cold. We can deal with cold though. Tacoma has heat.
Now let’s talk snacks. We packed this rig up good with some snacks. The rundown:
- Mini coca colas: Why? Because ya always waste the last ounce or two of the full sizers. May need some caffeine, break in case of emergency/get sleepy.
- Water: Got enough water to hydrate a small army. Key word here is small. But an army nonetheless.
- Homemade chocolate chip cookies: No explanation required.
- Full box of cheez its: None of that small bag business, we got the big boy box. That’s right.
- Chocolate covered pretzels: They’ve just been catchin’ the corner of my eye at the store, and I said to myself, “Daddy needs a bag of those.”
- Sweedish Fish: Simply cannot go on a road trip without candy. Impossible. Don’t care who ya are, ya cant do it.
- Clif Bars: For ski day. Boring. No one cares.
- Odwalla beverages: Only a few of them. Wouldn’t be able to afford the trip if I bought too many. Suckers are expensive. I’ve been told they are good for me, so we got em.
Figured that should get us there.
About an hour and change into the drive I head up and over Kenosha pass down into Fairplay, Colorado. While to many this stretch of the drive may be non-descript. I find it quite the contrary. The pass has some decent elevation gain when heading west, and upon reaching the summit you have a relatively short descent. The road winds to the right, and to your left there is a stunning view. It’s almost nothing but prairie and farmlands. It is an intense juxtaposition from the jagged mountains behind you and I find it to be one of the most picturesque views I have come across in the state. It may not have the wow factor that the black canyon or the continental divide command, but it is incredibly serene, peaceful, and beautiful. Coupled with the Colorado sunshine, this is a truly lovely way to start a long drive.
At this stage we’ve got an audible book playing. I’ve grown quite fond of audible over the last few years, and here’s why. When you are driving your eyeballs and hands are occupied, but your ears are available. Given said ear availability I am able to input things into them while on the road. Gives you the opportunity to potentially learn something new, educate yourself further, or simply listen to an interesting story, or engage in another human’s humor.
Tangent: What I am finding about this journey is that the audible slightly interferes with one of my goals for this trip. One thing I am hoping to do it jot some notes down along the way, in order to eventually write about it, and share it with others. In order to share something of value, you need to find the value in what it is you are doing. So what I find myself doing is being far more attentive to my surroundings. Scenery, weather, everything around you. In order to record something, you need to pay attention to something. The simplicity of this strikes me as being very cool, as it is often lost in the day to day shuffle.
Tangent from the tangent: Another reason for this trip is to get in touch with myself as an individual. As a husband and a parent, I spend a lot of time with others. This is without a doubt a good thing, as I believe the human beings are social creatures, that gain mental stability through being around and socializing with others. However, there is still tremendous value in spending time with yourself. This allows me to think, reflect, and gather myself in a way that I don’t often do.
At this point its just shy of noon. Important to note that I have not touched my mountain of snacks yet. I’m expecting some sort of medal for this superhuman amount of restraint.
Few more observation ions – Its windy. It is really friggin windy, did I mention that: its windy. I was also thinking how nice it would be to have an altimeter in my car. I always find myself wondering how high or low I am. I know this would make my father very proud.
Tangent: Whenever my dad comes to visit, he’s always asking me, “What elevation are we at?” Like my little brain is somehow going to be able to pinpoint our exact elevation no matter where we are in the state. Unfortunately for him, I cannot perform this feat, but maybe, with the aid of the aforementioned altimeter, I won’t have to let the old man down about 50 times throughout each visit.
Now heading over Monarch pass. The sunny skies, clear roads, and cruise control are well behind us at this point. This pass contains one of the few remaining independent mountains in the state. You won’t gain access to this with your shiny Ikon on Epic pass. No no no. You need to drive your ass out here, park in the parking lot, pay to ski, then drive on back down the hill and hang in the one lodge within a 20 mile radius. It’s a lovely place, and one that I wish to get to in the near future. Another note about Monarch pass is that is in the San Isabel National Forest. I would be doing a great disservice to everyone to not mention what resides in this forest. A man by the name of Jim Bishop began collecting rocks, loading them into his pickup truck, unloading them on his land, and stacking them as tall as possible in order to build a castle unlike anything you’ve ever seen. I visited Mr. Bishop and his castle years ago, and its truly remarkable. Both he, and his structure, are unforgettable.
It’s now a damn blizzard. This is good and bad. The good, we are driving a long way to go skiing. What makes skiing good, is lots of snow. What makes a ski trip bad, is landing your rig in a snow bank. Haven’t done that yet. Fingers crossed that status continues.
Tangent: Popped into my head at this point that given todays tools and toys there are many ways to shares stories and adventures. Many people do this very well through pictures, videos, and audio. I find my preference to be through writing. Why? When presenting words through writing you are afforded the use of a backspace button. Boy, do I find this useful. You get to make sure your words are arranged in the proper fashion before you present them to others, which I like. I’ve always jotted things down, written little stories, pondered life experiences through writing, but I’ve never shared any of them. There are many reasons for this. They main reason leading the pack is that I am simply a lazy human, a fact I simply cannot deny. I also wasn’t convinced that anyone would find enjoyment in what I put on paper, but for some reason this time around I figured, what the hell. Let’s give it a shot.
The scenery is currently stunning. We are just east of Gunnison. The word that comes to mind is vast. It reminds me how big this world is. An important perspective.
To understand the purpose behind a 6 hour drive each way for one day of skiing its important to know more about the destination. Just outside of Silverton is this gem known as Silverton Ski Area. I say ski area and not resort because it is not, under any circumstances, considered a resort. In fact, it doesn’t even have a lodge at the base. It has a tent, a yurt of sorts, at the base of the one ski lift that they have. Inside said tent they have a few sets of skis, a couple other odds and ends you might want, and a bar about three feet long that serves up ice cold PBR at the end of each day. It’s a lovely place. Tomorrow is opening day, and it’s going to be incredible. They pair you up in groups of eight, give you a guide or two to show you around all day. Typically, there’s some hiking involved once you depart the chairlift. You rarely end up at the base of the lift after each run, in which case they shlop ya in the back of a pickup truck or a school bus and cart you back to the lift. They limit the mountain to about 80 skiers per day, so you’re all but guaranteed to have yourself some fresh tracks if there’s been some recent snow. It’s truly a great time.
Tangent: The one little wrinkle that just occurred to me is that I have had skis on my feet twice this year. However, both times I have been accompanied by my three-year-old son. As I’m sure you can deduce, I wasn’t exactly “sending it” as the kids like to say, on either occurrence. This means, that my first real turns of the year are going to be at around 11,000 feet, after a lung busting hike, in roughly two feet of snow, on some steep ass terrain. So that’ll be good! I’m sure nothing could possibly go wrong with this approach.
We now approach Blue Mesa reservoir. This past summer the people in charge of the water in this reservoir determined that our pals over there in California were a little short on H2O. I’m sure they were correct in their assessment, but nonetheless, the sight is a little sad. They opened the gates in the dam and damn near ran this thing dry (see what I did there). This brings to mind the water problem the western portion of the United States faces on an annual basis. An intriguing dilemma. I’m sure this will be breaking news to many, but humans require water to exist. Now, some of this water is consumed by watering lawns, showering, drinking, cleaning dishes, etc. But I think the majority of the water is taken up by farming practices. This isn’t to say that farmers are to blame for this issue, because they are doing a wonderful thing, they are feeding us. This may also be breaking news, but humans require food to exist as well. It makes me think that there must be more efficient ways to raise animals and grow plants in this world. The other day I saw some rich dude by the name of Elon Musk built a rocket and sent four civilians to space for three days. Surely, we can grow large quantities of corn using less water. Now you might be thinking, nice work Dunc, you’ve found a problem with the world, but haven’t heard you spewing any solutions. This couldn’t be more correct. In fact, I am doing very little on a daily basis to contribute towards a sustainable and efficient future. The other day I put a big ole slab of brisket on my smoker for about 12 hours and happily consumed it without remorse afterwards. The sight out of my window is having me consider this problem, and my contributions towards solving this issue differently.
Now we head into the town of Ouray. If you ever have the pleasure of making your way to the southwest part of Colorado, I couldn’t recommend this place enough. It is known as the Switzerland of America. This area is tremendous. My windshield currently displays several mountains shooting out of the earth. The sun is shining on these snow-covered peaks and it again, reminds you of how small you truly are.
After finding a little public restroom facility I’m heading up and over Red Mountain Pass. This is the real “meat and potatoes” of this drive. This road, connecting Ouray to Silverton is unique. For those of you who haven’t propelled your tires over this road, it is exciting, to say the least. I took my parents out to this area a few years back in the summer. I let them know we would be taking a scenic drive over to Silverton, and that I would drive so that they could soak in the scenery. I do not think I would be putting words in their mouth to say that they did NOT enjoy the scenery. They were far more focused on making sure their son kept that rental car between the lines than the stunning views out their passenger windows. The road follows a canyon carved out by a river, and on one side is a near vertical drop for about 300’ to the river below. There are very few guard rails on the road. The reason for this, from what I understand, is that in order to construct said safety devices, it would require putting many workers at great risk, and for the majority of this stretch of road, there simply isn’t enough earth required to place the columns that hold up guardrails. It is known as Red Mountain pass because the road was once used to facilitate mining operation back in the day. Mining practices in the old days used mercury to separate the rare rocks from the not so rare rocks. Mercury isn’t exactly a chemical that would be considered pleasant, and caused the mountainsides to be permanently stained red. Another reminder of the impact human beings have on this planet.
Alas, we have arrived in Silverton. Checked into the triangle motel. Place is an absolute gem. A brief google search brings me to the Avalanche Brewery, two blocks away. Scooped two beers and a pepperoni pizza, with extra pepperoni (a recommendation from the bartender). This outing ended exactly as I had hoped. Given that opening day at the mountain is approaching there were two flavors of people at the brewery. Flavor one was the locals. Flavor two was the tourists/skiers. Call me a rocket scientist if you like, but I sniffed out who was who almost immediately (I know, wicked smaht). Met someone who fell into the “Flavor Two” category quite quickly. He was also embarking on a solo mission to Silverton and we quickly became buddies and arranged to meet at the hill and ski together the following day.
Silverton has 10’ snow banks going right down the center of main street. The snow is coming down quick, and boy do we like that. Haven’t seen a single snowflake in Denver this season. Drive six hours, found a friggin’ winter wonderland. This town also reminds me of the DMV – bear with me. It’s the great equalizer. It doesn’t care who you are or what you’re worth. There’s no Ritz Carlton in town. You’re a CEO of a fortune 500? Cool. You’re a ski bum with a hundred bucks in your pocket? Cool. Grab a room at the triangle motel and get ready to shred.
My room, first floor (love that, easy unload), has a full size bed with about three feet around it on all sides. Its just quaint. Tucked myself in at 7 PM, really burned the midnight oil. Breakfast is served at 7 AM. You bet your bottom dollar I’ll be there for the first eggo.
Woke up, scooped some breakfast and started in on the 20 minute drive up the valley to the ski area. Quick report of the accommodations and the “continental” breakfast. The bed wouldn’t align with my definition of comfortable. This is, under no circumstances, a real issue. 15 years ago, when I was in college, I would have plopped my bones down onto that sleeping surface and counted my sheep all night long without one ounce of discomfort. My soft suburban king bed living self, has become unable to adapt, and live out there in the motel elements. A trait I must overcome. The breakfast would not align with my definition of “continental”. There were give or take 10 wrapped muffins, a few cans of OJ, and 7 boxes of cereal (no bowls or milk). However, all these items were perfectly suitable for human consumption. The current weather conditions consist of white fluffy soft wonderful snow falling from the sky, and 8ish inches of brand new delectable skiable San Juan goodness. Needless to say, its gonna be a helluva day. If I’m being honest with myself, and my projected hoards of readers, I’m a little nervous. As I’ve mentioned I haven’t exactly been charging yet this season. The goal for the day is to not make a complete fool of myself. Some may say I’m setting the bar low; I think this may be a bit of a stretch to satisfy my personally assigned grade of success. I’ve got two sets of skis in the bed of the truck. One pair, fairly reasonable in size. Second pair, not so much. Pair number two have more of a resemblance to a set of water skis than they do to the snow sliding variety. Pair number 1 pros: lighter, easier to maneuver if snow isn’t as deep as anticipated; cons: much less delightful if the snow bears resemblance to any word listed under the word “depth” in the thesaurus. Pair number 2 pros: They float like a dream over the deep stuff; cons: they’re heavy (I’ll be lugging these things around on my back for portions of the day), and you run the risk of looking like an absolute dweeb if the snow is all windswept and doesn’t associate with the aforementioned noun. We chose pair number 2, the big boys.
Park the rig, go grab my lift ticket (that no one ever gives a hoot to look at), and meet up with my new friend from the previous night. Being opening day there’s a little more of a delay than usual, but this is all understandable given the unique conditions, and the bare bones operation. We meet our guide, Chris. This guy is an absolute legend. Chris is fresh off a few months guiding skiers and snowboarders up in Alaska. Goes without saying it isn’t his first rodeo. After the standard lesson about how to dig out our new friends in the event of an avalanche, we’re on our way up the lift.
My new friend JT and I hop on the lift and are both clearly in the same state of nervous excitement. Fortunately, JT cracked before I did and verbalized his level of apprehension. This made me feel much better, however, having a ski buddy that shares my trepidation at this moment in time did not change the fact that I would still need to personally escort myself down the hill on my water skis.
At the risk of being dramatic, the view at the top of the mountain was fresh out of one of those scenes from the dramatized Everest cinemas. There’s a couple hundred-yard hike that everyone had to undergo. The wind was whipping, the snow was dumping, and it was far from warm. At that moment, I had to have some unflattering internal dialogue with yours truly about what on god’s green/white earth I was doing here.
While I almost ruptured a lung on the hike, ate absolute shit on my 10th turn of the day, and thought my quads were quite literally burning, we made it through our first run of the day. This run was about survival and getting my bearings. Once that was accomplished the next several hours consisted of absolute powder skiing bliss. The hike got easier as I acclimated to the elevation. My turns got better after I gained some confidence. And the company of the group I was paired with grew on me as each hour passed.
This brand of skiing is much different than a typical resort. The guide thoroughly explains where we are headed, and the fashion in which you are to make your way down the mountain. We were instructed to farm our turns, in other words, not tear up the fresh snow by spreading out in a giant fan on each run. This preserves the freshies for other groups, and even ourselves if we were to repeat the same run. This system, and the cooperation of all involved truly makes the experience what it is. As the runs funnel back towards the base of the mountain at the bottom, the terrain does get tracked out. However, at the top, you are greeted with every skiers dream over, and over, and over, and over again. For the large majority of the day, we had the privilege of skiing almost untouched terrain.
At one point I made a conscious attempt at determining the depth of this white fluffy goodness, and I simply could not. While it varied throughout the mountain, there was easily 18” of fresh snow delicately placed with no other purpose that to imprint smiles on everyone who made the trip that day.
I had a very pointed conversation with Chris at the bottom of one stretch of deep snow. I looked the man in the eyes and told him that I wasn’t sure there was anything else a human being could do that would be more fun that skiing untouched pow. He responded, without hesitancy, like he’s previously had long internal conversations with himself about this same topic, “If there is any utility to this activity, I haven’t found it, as far as I can tell, this exists because its just pure fun.” It has taken me 4,000 words to this point to communicate the entirety of this adventure, and my guy Chris summed it up in one sentence.
Towards the end of the day, after our 5th run, I was absolutely beat. My legs were like noodles, and I was struggling. At the time, it felt like quite unfortunate that it was only 2:54. The lift stops spinning at 3:00. The good news, I had the option of one more powder lap. The bad news, I had to make my way through the wind whipping hike, dig out some energy reserves from somewhere to feed my legs, and go up for another. I knew I didn’t have the mental fortitude to forego my pride and say no. Up I went. At this point there were only three of us left of the eight that started the day.
Tangent: I sure am glad I chose to have another go. Chris put us on the goods, and with the smaller group we went for it in some more challenging terrain. Its rare to have this opportunity. I had every excuse to bail, head back the brewery and lick my wounds. I’m comfortable saying that I’m proud of myself for getting back on the horse for one last go.
All in we skied 6 “runs”. While this may seem paltry in comparison to resort skiing, I can assure you this took everything I had. Each run takes roughly an hour. There’s always some hiking at the top, some stops throughout to make sure no ones triggering avalanches or getting lost, and the occasional bus ride at the bottom back to the lift. We were the third group up the hill, and the last group off it. Hoorah.
I would like to mention that we spent the entirety of the day skiing in the trees. This was for multiple reasons. If you didn’t have the trees to block the wind and snow you wouldn’t be able to see a thing. Also, the likelihood of triggering a slide out in the open bowls with this snowpack was very high. None of this is to say that staying in the trees didn’t carry any risk. Avalanches do occur in the trees, however, its slightly less often. My guide Chris was incredibly thorough. He took his job, and his responsibility of shepherding us through the snow seriously. Many years ago, I don’t think I would have appreciated or recognized the role that this individual played that day. As a human with three loving humans waiting for me back home, I have a deep appreciation for Chris. I wish I could have articulated my gratitude better.
Tangent: At the end of the day, I was fumbling over my wallet for some cash to give to Chris. After finally locating some bills, I awkwardly walked up to him, handed him the tip, thanked him for an awesome day, never really stopped walking, strangely patted him on the back, and continued to my car. Uncomfortable (for no reason) to say the least. I’m not sure why I’m so awkward in those moments. I’m sure if I stopped, took my time, and spoke with the man for 5 minutes, I would have really enjoyed it. Room for improvement.
As the day wound to a close, we learned that the world-famous Silverton Ski Area après scene was not to be. Given the current wave of covid, the tent and therefore the perfectly sized bar, was closed for the day. This was a bummer, but there wasn’t much that could bring me down from my current skiing high.
I ended up back the Avalanche brewery for another pizza and more beer. Feeling beat, I ate quickly and had this urge to get back to my hotel room. I just ran outta gas. I was thinking to myself, that I simply didn’t want to be in or around the elements any longer. I was walking back to the room in the snow and wind yet again, and I was, you guessed it, uncomfortable. Tucked myself in at 6:00 PM. See the trend?
Tangent: About three months ago I had the hairbrained idea to run a marathon. After a few of my longer, hotter runs, I would return home and develop a pounding headache. Some amateur google based home physician research lead me to believe this was something known as a exertion headache. I don’t know for sure, but I think I developed one that night. I was completely wiped. It was uncomfortable.
Final day of the trip and we are making our way back home. Another fresh foot of snow on the ground, somehow the pass is open, so we are going to boogie. Had some internal dialogue about skiing again today, but I’m not sure these bones could take another day, and I have a strong desire to return to my family, and bring in the new year with my wife, son, and daughter.
The drive back was a long, snowy, slog back home. However, I again found solace in all this windshield time. I was truly able to think and listen far more than my day-to-day life allows.
Tangent: I find myself in the southwest of Colorado often. This is a special place in the world for me. The first time I came was with my dad. He flew all the way out to Colorado when I was going to college in Fort Collins to ski two days at Silverton. It was a series of days and memories I’ll never forget. A year later I found myself working in this area. Between Aspen, Montrose, Silverton, and Durango I ventured through the area for an entire summer. It is still the most memorable summer of my life. The Rocky Mountains get all the glory, but the San Juans are a gem that should not be overlooked.
As this trip came to a close, I found myself really thinking deeply. I vow to do this more often. Everything you do, or don’t do, in this world doesn’t necessarily have to be for some higher or grand purpose, but it should be for a purpose. The purpose of this trip was to have a ton of fun and entertain one’s independence. This doesn’t cure cancer and shed the world of a pandemic, but it provides me with mental stability.
I didn’t need this trip to recognize that I really enjoy my time with my family, but this trip did remind me that even as a husband and parent that I am still my own human. As a parent much of your time is consumed by looking out for the little ones you’ve introduced into this world, but its important to understand and maintain the relationship you have with yourself. In my opinion, it’s not selfish to scratch your own personal itch from time to time. It’s a powerful medicine to go do things as an individual.
I did a few things over the last few days that were uncomfortable. I am slowly learning that this is OK. I plan to intentionally place myself in more situations and circumstances that are uncomfortable. I plan to become more comfortable, being uncomfortable.
Thank you to those that have made it this far. I plan to continue to share thoughts and stories. I hope you continue to read. I really enjoy going through this process and I hope it provides a small amount of fulfillment to others.
Important Note:
While I was out of town a large fire took hold of several neighborhoods just northwest of Denver. It wiped out roughly 1,000 homes. Consider the magnitude of that for a moment. 1,000 families that could not return to the comfort of their own residence. A strong reminder to always appreciate what you have. My thoughts go out to all the individuals affected.
In With The Words 