Last week I went backcountry skiing in an undisclosed location. I could tell you about it, but I can’t say with any certainty that if I did so, a representative of the Backcountry Illuminati wouldn’t put a hit out on me. You see, backcountry skiing locations are sacred ground, where those willing to make the effort like to keep them secret. I’m learning this more and more.
I could tell you where this is, but then I’d be in trouble. BIG trouble.
Breaking Into Backcountry Skiing
In New Hampshire, with the great work of the Granite Backcountry Alliance (GBA), we do have several designated glade areas where we can backcountry ski. This is particularly helpful for the beginner, like me, who hasn’t gone too deep into the unknown. I’ve probably ski toured thirty times or so in my life, so I’m not a total noob, but I still prefer to go where others have gone before me. At least for now.
Besides, chipping your way into the backcountry game takes time. You can research all you want and still find very little information on what’s out there. Backcountry skiers don’t like to give up the goods. I follow a guy on Instagram who is touring all over the most beautiful terrain in Vermont, but he doesn’t share a lick about where his chosen routes are. People keep asking him in the comment sections to name his locations, to which he readily replies, “Vermont,” over and over again. So having something like the GBA is very helpful when you’re just trying to learn the sport.
But last week, I got lucky. A buddy of mine who grew up skiing over at, well, a place I can’t tell you about, showed me his old haunt. With all of the snow we’ve been having on the east coast this year, the conditions were incredible, and we took three laps through the glades. There was so much snow, in fact, that I found myself wishing I had powder skis for the adventure. When does that ever happen in the east? I can’t remember the last time, if there ever was a time, I wished for wider skis on the east coast. What a remarkable winter it’s been here.
Flying through the [Blank] Glades
What’s the Point?
Why bother with backcountry skiing, you might ask, when there are so many ski resorts to choose from in the area? Why go through all the effort when you can get way more runs in at a regular ski mountain without killing yourself? You are forty-eight, after all, Matt. No spring chicken. But that’s precisely the point. I’m fully aware there are parts of the aging process I have to accept, but I want to stay strong in body, and youthful in mind, for as long as I can. Not to mention, backcountry skiing offers the explorer in me something I can’t find on a mountain that’s been manicured for the masses.
Much like climbing in far-off places, backcountry skiing grants you access to something few people see or get to experience, and whenever we choose to go the road, or route less travelled, it invigorates the spirit. Backcountry skiing gives me a jolt of energy and serves as a good litmus test for my physical strength. When I started out this winter at Waterville Valley, my legs certainly weren’t ready for the effort of a big ascent and a ski down. Last week’s excursion, however, let me know I’m getting a lot closer to where I want to be.
The only question now is, where next?
(I know, I know. If you’re a backcountry skier, you can’t tell me. But Mount Cardigan is well-known for good backcountry turns. And the GBA has a bunch of glades listed on their site. I guess I’ll start there…)
Each new experience has got me thinking about the next one.