fall to winter 2017

Fall to Winter 2017

As the temperature dips below 0F outside, I find myself missing the warmer days of summer's past. 

It's a strange awareness, winter usually being the season I anticipate most.

Even then, I'll never get to them all. The lists only grow, no matter the amount I cross off. 

Days after days on end, waking up to the beautiful morning outdoors; long, rewarding days spent on rock and easy, tired evenings. 
Meeting the basic needs and embracing the dirt. Camp-cooked food tastes amazing when you're tired as hell and beer never tastes better.

The brisk cold seems especially harsh this fall, coming earlier than years previous. 
The long nights draw me inward, inside to reading, writing, filling the hours of waking darkness. Sleep comes easy and seems like the better choice. 

Enjoying the warmth between brief moments of shivers, I wait for my body to harden to the cold, my hands to stop hurting with it's touch. This seems to take longer with each winter.

Like every season, Fall passed far too quickly and I think back on every opportunity I didn't take advantage of, few as they were. 

Standing on a ridgeline at 10k while the sun sets, wintry hues cast in 360 degrees, inhaling sharp, cold air as crystals of snow bounce from my face - I'll wonder how I ever forgot the wonder of this season and it's bounties that await.

Summertime was easy, the warm temperatures and long days, the wonderful potential for adventure this combination unlocks.

It was a summer for the books, an unprecedented amount of outdoors, exploration, and community.  But it's never enough - more and more fills my to-do lists, runs, trips, and climbs I've wanted to accomplish will have to wait for yet another summer to arrive.

More and more potential is unlocked with growth; former possibilities become realities themselves as newer, greater potential continues to unfold.

Destinations near and far, the beautiful people and places in between, it's all so fulfilling. 

But... it will only take one tour on my skis to feel differently. The hours of rhythmic endurance, the powerful repetition that propels me uphill. And then: one weightless turn in deep powder, snow cascading over my head as my board bounces back off it's heelside, my weight shifting forward over my toes, leaning forward into gravity.

And it all comes pouring back! A dance of rhythm and balance, unlike anything else.

And so it continues; the impact of the present, the distance of the past, the excitement and uncertainty of the future.