I played hooky, skipped the big weekly meeting and headed out st00pid early to get some turns in at Crustal.
After two laps down a frumpy bontside, spying Schmerham and Jumper Bones on the lift, I linked up with Northway just as the Northback rope dropped.
1) Crystalline virgin tracks laid down all of Paradise Bowl. Monique was missed.
Snagged Natty after a wait while the Chinook was dormant.
2) Another pure clean track down the side of Bruce's Bowl. But the remainder down into the Anthill was marred by the required crossing of others tracks. O the humanity! Powderballs.
Ran into one of those sporty Hagenbuch bros who dropped a hint that Niagras was still showing unrumpled surfaces:
3) Super steep lines were had down Niagras. I got hung up in the upper rocks, but threaded a transcendant, untouched line down the lower rocks. More dendrited deepness.
Penny Dogs had looked good from the Anthill, so the troupe of three sliced on out the traverses to that.
4) More crotch deep vanilla creme was had in the Penny Dogs. It's one of those runs that falls away getting steeper and steeper, unable to see past the next rollover 100 feet away where it gets even steeper. Just waiting for the sucker to break and slide. But the stability was primo while the powderhose washed the face.
So now we've racked up 4 Ho Chi Minh traverses back to the base. Some members of our rocking teenage combo wanted to trade out the ho for the hi-t. That would have been a hell of a transplant. But just then, we crossed tracks with Jumper, PNWBrit and Schmermermer who were lounging around and beckoned us to stop. And Northway had to step onto other streams of life, so we bid him dieu-dieu.
But when you get old, you realize that time is really slipping away, that life is finite. And furthered fueled by a lack of belief in any of the more widely held beliefs about afterlife, I find stopping repugnant in general and practically irrational heresy on a pow day. So that crew was exhorted to step in and hit it, which we did. Little did I know that part of the information they had was that South Back was about to open. Now I don't mind having the direction of my vectors abruptly changed, but the magnitude, that sacred self inner product, will not dwindle.
5) Had a quick one down Leftberg.
So the cadre of k00ks now numbering something like 6 raged off to chair 6 and
6) spun 2 laps out on Hamburger to the DFT stashes while we waited for the rope drop on SB to happen. At about 1:15 it did.
The core of Natty and PNWBrit and I hike inched up the King. For yours tr00ly, it was no waltz, no deft light steps. The we went to my favorite line on the whole mountain, a shelf above a filled in cliff that splays down onto a beautiful apron and funnels into a narrow tree slot then out onto the apron again.
7) And it was pristine. It was balls++ deep. I ripped it and was glad. Natty and PNWBrit layed down sparkling halos of pow taking variations on that theme.
PNWBrit had other commitments and had to split. Nearly 2:00 and totally dogged, I now had to take a break for more water and another cliff bar (apricot - the only ones I can consistently chaw).
After a respite, up 6, out the throne traverse (I muse about the glory of the hi-t again) and then de-ski for the climb up the King. And this time it's a slog, a wheezer, a sweat stinging stumbling stagger requiring multiple pauses, layers of self immolations for not working out more and stoned gazing back into the basins S. of Crustal. Fortunately, I'm really good at stoned gazing. Practice makes perfect.
The summit was sweet, but I was exhausted, knackered, tweezed and thrashed.
8) So another sweet line was found on the S. exposure. The sun had hidden behind fast moving and weighty clouds and some of the snow had a very light crust on it. It had been hit with wide slices. But despite the cut, there were large patches of sweet and the run became a game of launching over others tracks to flense a rich, deep slash into the patch of virgin. Natty and I finished with the Troll Woods below Lizard Back, carving around the gnarly trunks in the quiet shade.
It doesn't get any better.
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