Photo Comp - The Darkside
The Dark Side
“I'm thinking about getting a sled,” I confide a little sheepishly to my ski buddy as we skin up the shoulder of Evening Ridge.
Give yourself to the Darkside.
“You should totally get a sled. The amount of terrain we could access around here…” That was almost 2 years ago.
Since moving to Nelson, I couldn't help but notice the prevalence of snowmobiles in truck beds in the area. I had always had an arrogant disdain for “sled heads,” so it was with some surprise that I learned that people use them to access ski terrain in the Kootenays. As if to confirm this revelation, I looked over countless topo maps of the area, exploring in my mind the endless ridge lines and peaks within an hours drive of my house. Most with fire roads up to 12 km long. If only I could get back there, it seemed a back country skiers wet dream. But a sled? Come on. That's for rednecks with beer bellies who high mark and bury themselves and their friends in avalanches. I'll never join you!
Like a festering splinter, the idea irritated the back of my mind. The road side ski terrain is fantastic. But what is beyond that ridge there? This year, the Redfish drainage was open to vehicle traffic thanks to the ongoing logging requiring maintenance of the access road. The first foray up to Redfish was sensational. The second….snowgasmic! It was the second day of a large storm cycle and about 35 cm had been deposited on a stable snow pack and we were forced to seek out the steepest terrain in order to maintain enough speed to actually ski it. The second day also coincided with the backhoe cutting water bars in the access road to decommission it. They were done…no more road maintenance. Nooo! That's impossible!
That was the beginning of the end….the slow inexorable slide towards to dark side. I posed the question to a co worker who I knew was a sled head. “Absolutely! We'll bring you over to the Darkside.” Did he actually say that, or was I hearing Star Wars quotations in my head again? It is unavoidable. It is your destiny.
Then there's always that one guy. The purist for whom back country can only mean getting up at the crack of dawn, being on the road 15 minutes later, and on the skin track by first light. Search your feelings. I sense the conflict within you. Back country means earning your turns and herein was the source of my indecision. “A sled? What are you…a redneck highmarker?” There is no retort to that. Any protest merely makes your argument even weaker. Wait Luke. Don't go. That path leads to the Darkside.
We all know where this story goes. Our tragic hero, despite his soul searching and much whining, begins the slow, inexorable slide towards all he has been taught is wrong and evil and in a final, heart wrenching decision, forsakes all he has learned about the way the force that surrounds us and binds us together.
There have been 2 sled assisted back country days to date since that fateful night when the world as I know it was uprooted. Both outings awarded powder turns, blue bird skies and near solitude. He's more machine than man now. This noisy, smelly piece of machinery that I had held with such repugnance allowed me to achieve more glory and self aggrandizement than I thought possible. The long, open ridgeback transitioned to the sparse sub-alpine glades and again to the wonderfully spaced treed gullies, with clear skies and bright sunlight…all in sublime, virgin powder. It is too late for me. There is no conflict.