I topped out on Sargent’s after a 1,805-foot vertical climb from the Brundage parking lot. Alpenglow was in full effect—the mountains to the west outlined by an orange glow, the mountains to the east painted a delicate pink.
It was beautiful, but for some reason, my first thought was, “Awesome. Another 1,800 feet of vertical.”
As I transitioned, ripping my skins off my skis and stowing them in my backpack, converting my Atomic Shift bindings (version one) from touring mode to skiing mode, and remembering, for once, to turn my boots from walk mode to ski mode, I suddenly stopped and mentally chastised myself for my poor self-talk.
Here I was, alone on top of a beautiful peak at sunset, and my first and only thought was about how I had increased my vertical for the year.
This is the problem with stupid goals — or passion projects, as I name them to make them sound more important. They can get in the way of just enjoying the activity.
I first ran into this problem six years ago when I decided I was going to ski 100 days. I found myself skiing on days I didn’t really want to ski. The project became a bit of a chore, and skiing became less fun—which wasn’t the point.
If I wasn’t careful, this year’s goal—to climb 100,000 feet of vertical and end by climbing 4,000 feet a day for seven days (the requirement to be able to sign up for the Haute Tour in Chamonix)—was going to ruin ski touring for me.
So, I paused. Took time to take a selfie. Sat down—something I never do—and sipped some water while I gazed at the beauty in front of me. As the sun began to close in on the peaks to the west, I stood up, stepped into my bindings, and skied down to the creek and back to the car. I glided to a stop as the sun finished its descent, bathing the parking lot in pink and salmon.
As I drove home, I promised myself, going forward, to only ski tour for the fun of it. Immediately, my attitude improved. Instead of being anxious about whether the inbounds uphill was open, I simply went with the flow. Some days, I climbed 400 feet to a small knob in search of some untracked turns. Other days, I climbed 2,000 feet to the top of a peak. I started exploring other areas—small bumps around town, bigger bumps down the valley. And I started skiing with anybody who was interested, no matter their fitness level.
The result is slower progress toward my goal, but a lot less stress and a lot more fun. I’m only halfway to 100,000, and the thought of climbing 4,000 feet a day for a week straight still scares me, but I’m making progress and enjoying the ride. Maybe I’ll hit my number. Maybe I won’t. I no longer care—passion project aside, I love to ski tour and don’t want an arbitrary goal to change that.
Here's hoping you’re having fun chasing some stupid goal this winter. If you are, or if you aren’t, say hi if you see me in the mountains. I love meeting new folks.
See you out there.
