"I dream of a hard and brutal mysticism in which the naked self merges with the nonhuman world and somehow survives...Paradox and bedrock."-Edward Abbey

01 December 2013


Early winter continues apace. Meteorological prophecy speaks of a dusting between night and the next day. Mid-week, there's suppose to be a fairly decent storm. As I purge these words, it is the century anniversary of a particularly vicious blizzard. Apocrypha says that six-hundred vertical feet bellow was the location of the largest amount of snow to fall for one day anywhere in this part of the world, and that includes Alaska. 

I have come to the conclusion that, during winter, I want it either to snow a little every few days, or not at all. It's a matter of aesthetics. When there longer periods between the storms, the snow on the ground becomes crusty. Streaks of grime from the dust of passing vehicles and soot from fires tarnish the diamond countenance. It's really no mystery where the hounds have been and what they did at that location, and, the subsequent clean-up does not bring the snow back to pristine. Don't think I haven't tried.

Sometimes, I find it comical that I wish for just a little snow. Time was, I wished against it. That was a very long time ago.

It's one of those cool days between the storms. The sky above is that shade of turquoise, although, to the west, there is a rather definite line of white clouds. On occasion, the wind blows Tibetan off the Roof of the World. Perhaps a harbinger of things to come.

Sabina and I mean to drive to the summit of Guanella Pass for the last time this season before the county closes the gates, making the top only accessible on foot, by ski or snowshoe. We had discussed snowshoeing the Rosalie Trail a few days back, but that was before Sabina was downed by a twenty-four bout with what may have been malaria. As it stands, the drive is done for something to do and a way to celebrate her return to the lands of the living.

Here's to life...

We'll still take our gear, just in case. I keep my eyes to west, for the next storm. It'd be great to go snowshoeing today, but I know not to be upset if I don't. See, I've heard Watrous Gulch has some righteous snow, and Tuesday ain't but a few days off.   


  1. I'm late. You probably have plenty of snow by now, which means, of course, we'll be getting your leftovers soon. It's chili meat and stew meat and chuck roast time...

    1. It was a decent snow. The avi danger is stupid-high, so no Backcountry for a bit.

      We're doing carne asada for supper. My mouth waters at the thought of it.