Day 1: Red Mountain Pass

Saturday morning. I am standing at the sink washing dishes, tidying up before we leave for an all-day ski tour adventure at Red Mountain Pass. JC sits down on a stool behind me, holds up a sock and asks, "Is there anything better than putting on a pair of Darn Toughs?"

As my mouth is forming the word "no" (the only possible response to a question like that), my mind is stacking up a list of what could be better than putting on a pair of Darn Toughs: paying off the mortgage, having an epic winter with record snowfall, being able to visit Maui twice a year, having a guarantee the kids will never have to experience disappointment, heartbreak, illness or injury, not having to work again…. 

Pleased with my spoken response, he says, "Because it means you're putting on ski boots."

And he's right. We drove out of town for our traditional early season before-the-ski-area-opens ski adventure in between Ouray and Silverton, to get some exercise, try out some new-ish equipment (oh he did buy some new super lightweight bindings) and check out the snow conditions.

This may be the 5th time we have done this (?) and it was by far the best conditions we have had yet. High pressure, no clouds, no wind, perfect snow depth and quality, and not so many humans until the end of the day. Red Mountain is such a great place to go this early because you can start skiing at 11, 018 feet, up high where the snow is stacking up. The terrain is pretty mellow, open and rolling, so you don't get your ass kicked on the steeps and the little early season snow there is, sticks.

I felt remarkably strong and confident, and we both concluded it was the best possible first day. Here we are coming back up for a second lap. I make him ski first so I can follow his turns:

The other cool thing about Red Mountain is that everyone gets so spread out - there are countless lines and routes and features to play around with and little blobs of humans scattered about but with a lot of space in between.

Our second lap was delightful, following the shoulder of a gully back down to the same trees below but farther off to the right, and the third lap was even better. 

That's me following his tracks again.

Of course we brought a thermos of Constant Comment, the world's greatest tea, peanut butter and honey sandwiches, and a few bits of leftover Halloween candy so we could lounge in the sun and fantasize about the coming winter.

Yes I had the magic stripy socks on and yes I had brand new Patagonia ski pants and we all know how effective new shit is when you really need to lay it down.

Look how tiny my little pea head looks.

Our tradition does not end there… it carries on to soaking in the hot springs in Ouray on the way home, kicking it at the Wiespaden 

until we slithered out of the pool and into the little Forester, cruised home to the ski chalet to sip peppermint tea until we could rationalize getting in bed so early.

I would be a total moron to allow myself to believe that every ski tour will be that delightful, but to start the season that way was definitely noteworthy. And of course JC was right: what could be better than putting on a pair of Darn Toughs?