It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, but I’ll never get tired of watching waves crash over Beach Drive.
Parker and I recently took a seaplane fly fishing trip. It is exactly what it sounds like. The fishing ended being a little slow, but was that really the point?
Flying to Orcas Island with Kathryn in August 2014.
Last March I had the opportunity to travel Fairy Meadow and the Bill Putnam Hut in British Columbia, Canada for some backcountry skiing. The hut is located deep in the Adamant Range on the other side of Rogers Pass, and is only accessible via helicopter. And since heli rides are expensive, we only paid for two: one to drop off us, and one to pick us up 7 days later. On these flights we took everything we would need for a week of skiing, principally ski gear, food and booze. Doug, Megan, Gus and I shared the hut with 16 Canadians who we didn’t know prior to this adventure, but after a good amount of time bonding on the slopes and in the sauna, we became fast friends. Our week was essentially perfect: great snow, blue skies, delicious food and wonderful company. We took down some monster objectives, and played around in the trees searching for pillow lines to surf. The absence of electricity, let alone any sort of connectivity, helped us all focus on one of the most important aspects of life: shredding the gnar.
The Greatest Snow on Earth. That is what license plates all over the state of Utah claim, and after several days in the Wasatch, I am inclined to agree. On New Year’s Eve of 2012, Anne and I joined a cadre of backcountry skiers and ventured into the White Pine Lake zone out of Little Cottonwood Canyon. We enjoyed crisp pow and blue skies—I think I’ll be back soon.
Reaching the summit of Mount Baker was one of my first conquests in the Pacific Northwest. I came to Seattle in 2006 as an intern, and climbed to the top of Grants Peak that summer. For the last several years I’ve had Mount Baker on my hit list again, although this time with a slightly different mission in mind. I want to ski from the top.
You know you have cool friends when one of them asks if you are interested in photographing his wedding on a glacier. I never for a minute thought he was joking—it made perfect sense to me. Russ and I were backcountry skiing last November when he first mentioned his and Kala’s plans to get married in the wilderness. Both Kala and Russ have bagged dozens of peaks, routes, climbs, scrambles, skis, ridges, saddles and anything else on a mountain in the Pacific Northwest. I did not doubt Russ and Kala’s resolve to have a wedding perched on the side of a mountain; but once I ventured onto the Sulphide glacier with them and two dozen guests and the weather turned, I began to wonder if it would really happen.