Timeline for this past weekend:
Saturday: Drive up to the Ski Lodge, have an early night in preparation for an even earlier morning.
Sunday: Learn how to cross country ski. Get very grumpy as I have only just gotten the hang of down-hill skiing and this is completely different. Then get very excited as I realize that this is a world easier than downhill skiing.
Monday: Pack for two nights of snow-camping. Rent a set of entirely different skis meant for skinning up the side of a mountain (read: snow-shoeing, but with extremely wide, long and unwieldy skis on). Get a crash course in skinning.
Hike across avalanche fields, over streams, and up a mountain in waist-deep snow, only to realize that we are off trail and are in prime avalanche conditions. Plunge-step down the mountain in a fraction of the time it took to crawl up. Make camp.
Tuesday: Wake battered, bruised, and surrounded by fabulous feathery snow. Take a vast number of photos, then cross a delta of frozen streams in our meandering route back to civilization. Excavate our car from the multiple feet of snow accumulated over the past twenty-four hours and head home.