"To Thine Own Self Be True" - Bridge Mountain Utah, March 9, 2019

"This above all: to thine own self be true. And it must follow, as night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man . . ."    William Shakespeare, from Hamlet.

I love the solitude of snowy mountains. It brings peace to my mind and joy to my soul. It is one of the few places I can hear my own thoughts and work out the frustrations of this world, if only in my mind, something I do not get anywhere else in this world. Anywhere! I am blessed to find such peace in the mountains of winter.

I've been told that finding peace and joy in the mountains is pure foolishness! "The only place to find such peace and joy is in church." Mountains are not mutually exclusive with my marriage or my family. Rather, mountains are a calming influence that compliments everything else I do in life. Others find joy and peace at BYU/Utah football game (yeah , right!), or maybe watching a comic book movie, cycling, or maybe just binge watching Game of Thrones or Friends. Whatever your bliss, follow it! Life is too tough to go through it without joy. 

Admittedly, I'm a complete wet-blanket when it comes to social mores, but, sadly, peace and joy have rarely been my reality at a college football game or a Captain America flic, and, dare I say it, church. Peace and joy is why I go to the snowy mountains as often as possible, and perhaps why I avoid football games and comic books. I do go to church, but I find it to be more of a social event than a source of spirituality, and I can't fake spirituality. The need to go to the mountains is a power I can't suppress. I just feel good when I'm there and that good feeling stays with me long after wards.

As for the church dude who told me I was foolish for looking for peace and joy in the mountains? He doesn't know my heart.  I can't begin to understand the inner workings of his mind, and I hate it when others presume they know mine. Now that is foolishness mixed with a heavy dose of arrogance and narcissism . . .  

 . . . so here I am again, hiking up and skiing down a snowy mountain, and coming home with a satisfied heart, if only for moment or two, but it is enough to keep me going . . .  

KPF, not quite the much over-used Grizzly Gulch, but the trend is in that direction. 

That shadowed bump in the middle of the pic is the "snow-stake" rock, 100 yards east of the rocky switchback of the Mueller-North Canyon Trail. The rock is about four-feet high without snow.

More precisely, 183cm(72in) at Rudy's Flat, a big snow year indeed.

"Caldwell's," a new ski run descending into the City Creek side of the ridge that is rarely deep enough to ski. Layne and company nailed it. I'm impressed with their sense of adventure and willingness to try something new that most of us just ignore because no one else is skiing there. I call it "breaking the 'GG' (Grizzly Gulch) affect."

My old friend, the Mountain Mahogany where the summer trail tops out on the ridge when heading towards Black's Peak.

Cool cloudy formations, but soon to be sunny. A beautiful day all around.

Lower Crescent Bowl in perfect powder. 

Last time skiing up here I snagged a branch tearing my new BD pants, so I pulled a Grant Reeder (my Dad) and hand-stitched the repair with the first thread found in my wife's sewing cabinet. My Dad was always a bit flamboyant with his choice of mediums.

Some cracking but it is not due to instability. I heard and saw NO collapsing. This cracking is running vertically down a steep (39 degrees) hill and I concluded it was the sloughing of the new snow and not collapsing of unstable snow. If the cracking was shooting horizontally, across the hill, I would've quit and gone home as that would have indicated unstable snow. Vertical cracking with no audible collapsing vs.  horizontal shooting cracks tell much different stories. 

Another old friend, I've come to love all these familiar dead trees, they seem very alive to me. I feel their spirit even if no longer living in this world. 

Skin track up Rectangle North. I saw vertical cracking on the steep lower section but I never saw horizontal shooting cracks and never heard or saw any collapsing, so I judged it safe to ski. 

First run ski tracks off Crescent Peak. . . 

. . . same view but now zoomed.

Selfies are always best when the face is hidden. . . 

 . . . and the product of your labors take the focus.

Studying my tracks down Crescent Peak, wondering how I could do better. Tracks in the snow reveal the ability of the skier and I'm always looking for improvement.

So many options and so little energy, and daylight. . . 

 . . .and, how can anyone NOT want to be here? 

Or here?

Even with the lens jacked from the frost on a passing branch, it still captures the beautiful scene.

Mid-Crescent Bowl.

Center-punching Crescent Peak.

Crescent Peak, upper right, with Black's Peak the pointy peak in the middle and Session's Mountain on the left, under clouds. 

Frosted icicles on a Douglas Fir, along the Rectangle North skin-track.  

From the Rectangle North skin-track, Session's Mountain on the left, Crescent Bowl ski tracks framed by a frosted Douglas Fir in the middle.

View SW, from the Rectangle North skin-track, overlooking Rectangle Bowl towards Dead Tree Peak, which is the point where the horizontal ridge rolls over and drops steeply to the right.

So much fun! My tracks down The Rectangle.