just over a week ago we were rattleling up a logging road, calling km's and trading spots with the local beasts of burden hauling thier plunder down the snowy mountain roads. trucks loaded with timber the main source of the local economy and our gate way to the goods we were after. lush turns on un tracked powder. Greg and I were out to explore a valley niether of us had been into. adventure!

the first skin track was a bush wack through willows up and old skid track 3km to a modern day trapers cabin. from there we pushed farther into the vally, aiming, as the low snow pack and warm weather dictated, to the south aspect slopes. though the day was limited in scale, it was more then made up for in scope. after a couple hours of grunting we emerged from the trees following bob cat tracks to the base of a morrine lake nessled in a saddle between two impresive peaks with a view of our suroundings. there is nothing more rewarding then earning you truns. comming out with a pretty good sence of what is contained in the back end of the valley,both of us wanting to come back when things are safer. strip the skins, slap the split board togeather, dig a pit to confirm what we already suspected, then it was all down hill. carving turns through the trees hooting and laughing. playing it safe, yet so happy just to be there.

that day ended back at the truck with a defined sence of satisfaction. and I was off to pick the GF up at the air port and start a week long ski trip.

now after a week of living out of my van, riding when the weather let us, watching the rain pound the local ski hills and make the back country very scetchy, the GF and I have washed up very wet and tired, on the door step of my child hood home. It's Christmas, and I'm home, the first time in 10 years.