Hi There...I'm submitting this to your site. TR for winter ascent/ski descent of Mt. Evans......let me know if you put it up...love your site, btw!!
Regards,
Mark Winans
....we had been on a barnstorming tour of the I-70 ski areas. It was Patrick, Mike and myself, in a rented Expedition loaded to the gunwales with gear ( these beasts look nearly the size of a 14er). We spent a good deal of time at Vail and the Beav (friends there with free digs and eats...if it's any of your business.) We spent some time parked in my sister's bosses cabin up near Winter Park. I had done Copper earlier and we made a pass thru Keystone on the way back down. Mike's knees had been trashed for the last 3 days, and Patrick had had a snowboard wipeout right on that spot on your hip where there is no padding, right on top of the strawberry that was already there ( a little aside...why is it that one of the saddest things one ever experiences in life is when a good friend is seriously hurt or worse, yet one of the things that provokes the most hilarity is when a good friend is SLIGHTLY hurt??) Anyway, after much razzing and hilarity and crude comments on the general aging process of the human male, the crew was back in Denver. The problem was, it was Friday night and my flight out wasn't until Sunday @ 8:30 pm. Mike was cashed after 2 weeks of bumps, Patrick took the first direct flight out to a hot tub, and there were still 2 days left of my extended vacation. Saturday was no problem, I took my nephew ( who was 9 then, I think) up for a day at Winter Park, and enjoyed watching how the beast is starting to come out in him. He was much bolder than he had ever been before. I love watching the little warriors find their path with heart. Still and all, that left me Sunday. Beautiful, wonderful Sunday, my last vacation day for some time to come. What to do??
I began thinking about giving Evans a shot. It didnt take long till I was fully convinced. I'd had nearly 2 weeks to acclimatize, my legs felt outstanding despite mile upon mile of bump terrain. Which left the conditions. The snowpack early was very large that year, but since then there had been nearly 2 weeks of sunshine every day. Mild, spring like weather early, on a fairly consolidated snowpack......
I laid my plans.......
I got my gear together that night. Food, maps, all the essentials, packed and ready to go...for my last day.
I awoke extremely early (for me) and got started. Dawn didnt start till I was up in the hills, nearly at the Mt. Evans turn off. I stopped for a coffee, then headed up the canyon. When I got to the lake (Echo?? I think) , and found out the extent of the closure during the winter, I was a little taken aback. Oh, well, I'll just start up and see what happens. Light wasnt yet on the trail thru the pines. I was completely solo, as far as I knew. I began thinking about the lion that killed the little boy in Rocky Mountain NP the year before, and wondered if their tastes also ran to older, gamier ones freshly killed at the light of dawn. Soon I rose out of the forest, and looked out over a recently risen sun shining on every bit of God's earth that you could see. And you could see a whole lot of it. The view was spectacular...superb....all just words that can't even begin to describe the experience. Like Lou Dawson says, I regret every sunrise that I've ever missed in the mountains. It was a bit of a trudge, as I was carrying my alpine ski gear, and had no mountaineering boots (Sorrell snowmobiling boots, insert laugh sound track here). So as I say,, it wasnt without pain, but everything was going well.
Well, to cut a long story short, I tried the NE ridge route with all the snow, etc. Because the walk in was so long, I didn't make it to the summit, just about 5/6ths of the way. I was running out of time and water. So I turned around, took a good look at that piece of earth that I love so much ( and wouldn't see for another 6 months....if I was lucky) said my thanks to the Great Spirit , and strapped them on.......
I have never experienced snow like that in my life......and I've skiied for over 30 years......
It was 4 inch deep, wind-blown, lightly-packed sastrugi powder over a firm base. The drifts had made pattens like waves or sand dunes. It was so quiet I swear you could hear the hissing of individual snow granules against each other as the wind blew them about. Every whim that went thru my head was followed by an immediate response by the skis. It was nirvana beyond nirvana. Now , there were only about 3-4 long pitches of this stuff, and then it was back on the road an the iced over cross country trail, but for me it was enough. Would everyone want to walk six hours for 60 minutes of supreme skiing?? Uphill?? Of course not, very few people would. However, it was one of the greatest days of my life. Mike was on my flight out , he had spent Sat in Denver partying and Sunday hung over. I'll never forget the feeling I had in the Airport that day. I sparked one and just felt like that if I truly put my mind to it, there wasnt ANYTHING in the world I couldnt do, and even if I could't do it , that was OK also because I had LIVED , for at least one day out of my life......
....a year or so later, I overheard Mike at a party here in Chicago talking about that day and referring to it as " the day Mark was Beatified" , which was an extaordinarily insightful comment, no surprise coming from Mike.
.....and the next morning I was standing on the corner of 18th St and Halsted in Chicago with a double espresso in my hand, staring at the same sky ( though it was a different color here....slate grey instead of cosmos blue). Thinking about the next one...