Freshies in the Valhalla
“Well, the rain exploded with a mighty crash as we fell into the sun,
And the first one said to the second one there I hope you're having fun.
Band on the run, band on the run.” Paul McCartney
Sliding my skis up the ridge one at a time, I took pause to look up at Gornick. It was about time to put my coat on. The wind was blowing the sugar- snow over the ridge like sand in a desert. The skin-track in front of me was filling in with snow right before my eyes. He was ahead of me and uphill. The sun was behind him piercing through the blue sky. The way the snow was twinkling as it moved over the ridge made the mountain seem mystical and alive. It was quite ethereal and in hindsight I should have unpocketed my camera. Damn.
We were coming up on our second hour of climbing but the end was near. I followed him up the ridge until we were high enough to traverse over to the top of Valhalla run.
“Wow, look at that” I said when I first saw it. “ That’s beautiful!”
A half dozen perfectly linked “S” turns spilled and braided their way down from the pass and into the bowl below like the flowing curls of a lovely virgin maiden.
We wouldn’t be the first on this run, Gornick lay claim to that two days prior, but there was plenty left to be had. I had my sights on a sweet line just above the highest of the maiden’s snowy tresses.
Eighteen inches of fresh snow had graced the valley as a late springtime gift. What was underneath though? Would this new layer bond with the existing snowpack or create a dangerous weak layer between? It’s all good-times until you find yourself floundering in the brunt of a full-on slide. I patted my coat and felt the avalanche beacon secured snugly underneath.
“Do you want to go first?” He asked.
“Hell yeah!” I responded without much hesitation. I climbed up a little higher to the spot I had picked out.
“ Hey look there’s the band on the ridge.” said Gornick. I followed his gaze downward. Sure enough, in the distance far below us were four specs making their way up the ridge that we had just conquered.
Gornick’s friends, aside from being super-cool backcountry skiers are also members of a local band called “Hot and Awkward.”
“Band on the ridge......band on the ridge.”
So with Paul McCartney’s timeless jingle echoing in my head I pointed my boards downhill and did my best to add another lock of lovely hair to the fine maidens coiffure.
