The Bad, The Ugly and the Good Idea

Ski Mountaineering in the Wasatch Mountains, Utah (February 2023)

Bryan:  Well, we’ll find out pretty soon…

Me:  If this is a bad idea?

Bryan:  Yep.

We had been assessing the snow quality for the entire two hour approach to the base of the climb up to the couloir. As we skinned from the car along a wide road that suddenly narrowed to a hiking path, the snow progressively got deeper and “better”. Sure, there was some nice, fluffy, fresh powder from the snowfall overnight. But only about 5 inches below this delightful powder was an undeniable crusty layer. And that crust varied from mildly crunchy to rock hard depending on where we stabbed our ski poles. That’s a very quick and dirty and non-scientific way to determine snow quality and how much “fun” our impending ski turns are going to be. To understand what I mean about this, think about baking brownies. When the timer goes off to signal that the brownies are done, you stab the brownies in the middle of the pan with a toothpick. When you remove the toothpick, what does it look like? If it’s clean with no gooey, unbaked batter spindling off of it then the brownies are finished baking. This is a “good” assessment. If the toothpick is a gooey mess, this is “bad” because they’re not finished baking. Now let’s apply this to snow evaluation. If you stab the snow with your ski pole and it comes out clean when you remove it, that means the snow is dry and fluffy and your ski turns are going to be so tasty that you’ll be salivating for the rest of the day just thinking about it. If, on the other hand, you stab the snow and your ski pole removes a crunchy crust or gooey slush, then you are going to have a very memorable day but for very different reasons. In short, rather than a smooth, creamy ride down the mountain you are going to feel more like you are riding one of those mechanical bulls in a cowboy bar. Does this sound like fun to you? Hold that thought.

Now let’s get back to the couloir. On the climb up we were increasingly hopeful that we would find some “good” snow in this narrow chute. After all we did find some great pockets of fluffy powder in places as we zigzagged our way higher and higher up the steep slope. We also found a lot of nasty crust but why dwell on the negative, right? I guess we figured there was just as much chance of finding powder as there was of finding crust in the couloir. And the sun was shining so bright that it cut right through the cold air as it warmed my face and hands. It was a beautiful day. So why not just take the chance and go for it? What’s the worst that could happen? As it turns out, it was both a bad idea and a great idea. How could it be both? Well, there’s a simple answer that explains this very clearly. Perspective. 

The pure, raw sensory input that we were getting from the snow conditions was objectively bad. Actually, it was downright horrible! As we entered the bottom of the couloir we immediately realized that we had to remove our skis. The snow was so steep and hard that our skins could no longer “bite” to give us any grip. It was like trying to walk up a sliding board that was just freshly greased with wax paper (remember doing that as a kid?). So we took off our skis, attached them to our backpacks and started kicking steps up the steep, snowy funnel. And this is where things got really interesting. One step would plunge us to the depth of our hips while the next step would feel like kicking into concrete. Unable to find any sort of rhythm we simply decided to drop to our knees and pseudo-crawl-kick our way up the slope. After about 50 ft of this nonsense we managed to burn about 5000 calories while going exactly nowhere. We barely got a quarter of the way up the couloir and the snow just kept getting worse. The snow was so bad, in fact, that we realized that we would have to slide down much of it. Imagine trying to ski down a concrete sidewalk. Just turn to one side and scrape and slide on your ski edges. That’s what we were facing. So we decided to stop climbing any further and survival ski back down to the powder immediately below the chute. 

The initial ski down the couloir went exactly as expected. It was ugly for lack of a better word. Scrape, scrape, slide, jump-turn, scrape, almost fall, scrape, stop, curse and regroup. Repeat as many times as necessary. Then we actually found some nice powder turns from the base of the couloir all the way back down to the skin track. For good measure, however, the mountain was perfectly booby-trapped with randomly placed solid ice chunks just below the snow surface. Were these the best snow conditions for skiing that I’ve ever had? No, not by a long shot. But it was a fun and very memorable day. 

Now I ask you, was our decision to ski the couloir a good idea or a bad idea? That depends on your perspective. If you only care about the quality of the snow and the resulting quality of your ski turns, then you would likely say that it was a bad idea. But for me, the actual skiing part of skiing is of secondary importance. I really enjoy spending time in the mountains, especially with friends. And I really enjoy pushing myself to do new and challenging things. And I really love to take photos. If we had simply given up and decided not to try to ski the couloir due to imperfect snow quality then we would have robbed ourselves of a very fun and memorable experience. I also happened to get a few really great photos that I would not have gotten otherwise. 

So was it a good or bad idea? I answer that it was unquestionably a terrible idea to ski that couloir in those conditions. The snow was garbage and not even capable of skiing. The external sensory input from the mountain told us that very clearly. But we decided to do it anyway. By pushing past our negative expectations we were able to create a positive experience out of imperfect conditions. Simply stated, we used the power of perspective to turn a negative into a big positive. The mountains provide endless opportunities for fun and personal growth but ultimately the mountains do not care about your day. So it’s entirely up to you to find your own bliss. And I promise you can have fun in the mountains every single day if you’re willing. The decision to go is always a great idea.

Day Three: Where the Magic Happens

Me, really tired but smiling ear-to-ear on Day Three of a really difficult backpacking trip in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Alaska (July 2021)

I recently renamed my blog “Day Three”. So what the heck does that mean anyway?

I’ll keep this short and sweet because I’m going to dive deeper into the meaning in future posts. Simply put, Day Three refers to the point in any travel journey where you feel fully immersed. In the days (or weeks) leading up to your trip we all feel some stress and anxiety over the planning and packing. There are a million and one things to do before a trip: booking flights, finding lodging, planning routes, etc. Then the travel date comes. And a whole new set of stressors is ignited. Why? Because that first day of traveling means that you are leaving the confines of your home, your little space of familiarity, your comfort zone.

I’ve found through many years of traveling and spending time in remote wilderness that I am never able to fully relax and feel like I’m “in it” unless I spend a certain minimum number of consecutive days in my new environment. That magic number is always three. Without fail, I always feel a transformation on Day Three of my trip. On that third day I wake up with mixed feelings of fatigue and boosted energy. The previous two days of navigating a new place with new people, figuring out where to go and what to do and dealing with any inevitable problems that always threaten those well-oiled travel plans is, well, downright tiring. And if my plans happen to include some sort of physically-demanding exercise like backpacking, then the stress and strain of covering long distances over difficult terrain with heavy weight on my back crush my energy levels even more. So it’s easy to imagine where the physical and mental exhaustion come from but how could the stress of traveling actually give me, or you, more energy?

The boost in energy that I feel, and that you surely will as well, on Day Three arises from the simplicity of a singular focus that eventually develops. We humans have a tendency to seek out comfort. It’s a survival instinct that’s hardwired in our DNA. There’s nothing wrong with that per se. But in this modern age that we live in, we are rarely ever challenged to be uncomfortable. We have so many systems and safeguards built into our daily climate-controlled lives that we simply don’t have to be uncomfortable unless we want to. So? What’s wrong with that? Well, through modern technology we are so used to being comfortable nearly every minute of our lives that our brains try to prevent us from doing anything unfamiliar or uncertain. Being uncomfortable is hard. But being comfortable all the time is numbing. That’s because any routine activity allows the brain to go into autopilot mode. On autopilot you no longer have to think. So your mind starts to drift away from the present moment and focuses on all of the future chores and tasks that need to be done. And the consequence of this is that you often aren’t even able to enjoy whatever you are doing. It’s mundane. It’s easy. It’s boring.

There is no better way to add excitement to your life than to travel. Going somewhere new is exciting because it’s different than anything you know. It takes planning, studying and learning about your new destination. It’s an adventure! But…..there’s a catch. Now think about the first day of any trip. Are you still thinking about all of the things you have to do back home? Of course you are. We all do this. Our jobs, families, friends, chores and any number of things fill our daily to-do lists. And those to-do items that you left unfulfilled are still demanding your immediate attention at the beginning of your travels. Those unfinished, important tasks now can’t be attended to while you are away from home. Your brain just can’t stop thinking about them no matter how hard you try. This causes you to feel anxious. That anxiety quickly turns to stress. And that stress makes you feel uncomfortable.

I don’t know about you but I always can’t wait to get through the first day of a trip. My head just isn’t in it yet. I’m still checking emails and social media (if there is internet service) and I’m still thinking about the things I have to do back home. And the discomfort of not being familiar with my new environment only adds to the stress. But fast forward to Day Three. Now I’m just tired enough and far-removed enough from the comforts of my home that I start to embrace my new surroundings. I’m beginning to feel immersed in my trip. I’ve experienced this over and over and over in my travels. And, as a professional mountain guide for 12 years, I have witnessed this same Day Three-induced euphoric transformation in hundreds of people from all walks of life from all over the world. No matter your age, gender, culture, religion, political affiliation or whether you’re a cat or dog person, this phenomenon seems to be pretty darn universal.

So what’s going on here anyway? What is so special about Day Three of your trip? There’s something liberating about gaining just enough familiarity with a new environment that you no longer feel like a complete stranger in a strange land but you also don’t feel completely at home either. The adventure starts to feel less intimidating and more enjoyable. But it still demands your full attention because you’re still in a new environment. This is the moment that you stop thinking about home and start focusing entirely on your new place. Instead of having a thousand things to do in your normal, daily life at home you now only have one thing to think about. You now only care about how to survive in your new environment and how to have fun doing it. Your life goes from being complex to simple. You’re still uncomfortable, but you are getting more comfortable with being uncomfortable. And that feels good. It’s a load off your shoulders. It just takes a few days to get there. And that’s the catch. The brain is a machine that is constantly processing information 24/7. And through our busy technology-filled daily lives our brains can start to feel overworked through overstimulation. Your brain just needs time to adjust, to relax and to forget every now and again. It needs to reboot. And that rebooting takes a certain amount of time. One day isn’t long enough. Not even two days will do. Three days is the sweet spot.

Day Three is where the magic happens in a trip. It’s the moment where you’ve pushed past the boundaries of your current comfort zone and stop feeling overly worried about the unknown. You stop fretting over all of the many stressors of your normal daily life and and start reveling in the simpler pleasures you experience during your new adventure. You are learning new things, picking up new skills and becoming more confident in your abilities. In turn, you start to feel stronger, you feel more prepared to deal with uncertainty and you ultimately feel a deeper sense of satisfaction with life. I’ve found traveling to be the most reliable way to achieve this. And the further you get from the modern conveniences of urban civilization, i.e. going into a wilderness area, the better and more gratifying the result. So I urge you plan at least one challenging trip each year that is a minimum of three days long. And when you get to that magical Day Three just sit back and smile. Trust me, there’s nothing else you’ll want (or need) to do!