The highs and lows of my first finish of this iconic mountain bike race.

This is borderline sadistic, I couldn’t help thinking as a peddled my mountain bike up the steep climb in Aspen, Colorado, in the wee hours of September 1.

I was competing in the Grand Traverse Mountain Bike Race which begins with an in-your-face 3,300-foot altitude gain climb up Aspen Mountain in just five miles. You only have two hours to complete this climb, or you are out of the race.

In total, the race covers 40 miles and more than 8,300 feet of elevation gain.

I wish I had done my homework a little better about the initial climb to know what I was getting myself into. This steep intro with very little warm up sent my lungs into overdrive and mocked my supposed “fitness.” Perhaps it was the injury I sustained a few weeks prior (some hamstring/glut tightness) that turned into a three-week taper, or just the casual training I had done.

I lead a growing nonprofit and have two young children and I wife that I like being around, so my training time is limited.

Regardless, as I began climbing, I couldn’t help but thinking this was going to be one long, brutal day.

A long-held goal

I have wanted to do the Grand Traverse ever since I first heard of it. The iconic race covers 40 miles of trails in the Elk Mountains between Crested Butte and Aspen.

Historically, the race started as a ski race, a backcountry connect between Aspen and Crested Butte. Later, they added a bike and ski portion.

About nine years ago, I made plans to race the winter event. I bought race skis and started training. However various factors kept me doing it, including getting cancer (see the story here).

The bike race would be my second choice. And now years later, and considering I live close to mountain biking, this seemed the more realistic option.

When a friend nudged me to sign up for the race, I readily agreed.

The first aid station

I completed the initial climb in under two hours—1:47, which gave me a little buffer. From there, I would need to keep making the cutoffs at the next three check points.

I remember coming to what I thought was the top. There were a few participants taking a break and I said, “This is it, right?”

“Not even close,” a guy said, gesturing to the top of the rolling mountain. I could see distant participants about 1,000 vertical higher than we stood, looking like little ants with bikes.

Climbing

I huffed and puffed-up Taylor…Then tackled Star Pass. I was glad I read about this section ahead of time. It covers more big uphills, but what is helpful to know is that no one rides the steepest sections at the end—not even the pros. So rather than be demoralized, I dismounted my bike and tried to enjoy the stroll.

Atop Star Pass, I enjoyed the panorama of the Elk Mountains, spread out before me like a canvas. After a few minutes rest, I gathered myself and began the long downhill section, which descends eight miles and about 5,000 feet into Brush Creek area near Crested Butte.

This section was incredible. I would consider it like the 401 trail near Crested Butte, except with steeper and more difficult downhills. If it wasn’t so remote, I’d consider riding it more. I managed to make it through this section unscathed, but the continuous bumps and braking burned my forearms.

The final climb

Eventually, I rode into the final checkpoint at Brush Creek, with only about five miles to go. Some nice lady put some lube on the chain on my bike, which was bone dry after the dusty descent. I declined water and continued, which almost proved a costly mistake.

I’ve heard people call the last section cruel, because you think you are done climbing but you have another 900 vertical feet through the forest. And it kind of felt cruel.

I struggled through this final push, walking more than I would have liked. Soon enough, I neared Mount Crested Butte and a few minutes later, I crossed the finish line.

The race took me roughly 8:05, which was about 45 minutes longer than I had estimated, but considering the recent injury, I was just happy to finish and keep making the time cutoffs.

Beautiful and brutal

Someone once called this race, “beautiful and brutal,” which I would have to agree with. I also think it is a little sadistic, too.

Still, what a thrilling challenge. The views are second to none and the downhill was a pleasant surprise.

Now, all I need to do is find the time and fitness to ski the Grand Traverse before I get too old…

A weekend of backcountry skiing at the Lost Wonder Hut in Colorado’s Sawatch Range.

During a recent weekend of backcountry skiing trip, this famous quote by J.R. Tolkien seemed to ring true: “Not all who wander are lost.”

It was the second weekend of February, and a few friends and I, six in total, headed to the aptly named “Lost Wander Hut,” nut near Salida, Colorado.

While I have heard good things about the Lost Wonder Hut, this was my first foray. The Sawatch Range often boasts a good snowpack, and after a slow start, things filled in decently, about 89-94% of normal in February.

Also, roughly eight inches of fresh snow fell the day before we arrived, a fitting welcome.

Some initial wandering

After a modest 3-mile skin into the hut, we dropped our packs at the Lost Wonder Hut then headed out to explore. We headed west, or slightly southwest, to the lower angled slopes well below the ridge.

True to any backcountry outing, it took some exploring and wandering to find the best skiing.

We quickly found some good snow, a big win for the first day of trip. Coming here was already worth it.

Origin of the quote

More about the quote, “not all who wander are lost,” Tolkien penned this famous quote in his iconic book, “The Fellowship of the Ring.”

A little context, the wizard Gandalf, recites the poem, “All That Glitters In Gold,” which sheds light on the true identity of Strider, the wandering ranger:

“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.“

Explanation of the poem

As typical of most Tolkien writing, the story pointed to more than just Middle Earth lore, but a Christ metaphor.

Gandalf points to Strider as not just an aimless wanderer, but Aragorn, the rightful heir of the Kingdom of Gondor.

In other words, Strider wandered with purpose.

While kingdoms and the fight for Middle Earth were not foremost on my mind while skiing at Lost Wonder Hut, I did wonder about the origins of the name.

Origin of the hut’s name

The hut is named after a mining claim that the property sits on, Lost Wonder Load, according to the hut website. The origins of the hut date back to the early 1900s when there was still active mining in the valley and a functioning sawmill.

Lost Wonder Hut changed hands a few times, and eventually became what it is today: a hut that you can rent out for up to 14 people and even bring your pooch—one of the few huts in Colorado that allows dogs, because of the nearby natural spring water source.

You can find out more about the hut here.

The name of the hut itself, Lost Wonder Hut, almost seems like an invitation. Looking at the surrounding views of stately mountain peaks, including 13,745-foot Mount Aetna, and the narrow valley that winds north—it’s easy to feel the pull to wander and explore: up the valley, in the treed foothills, or even atop one of the sharp ridgelines.

Maybe the tagline for the area should be, “never stop wandering,” (borrowing from the North Face a little) though the wintertime avalanche threats can quickly squelch this passion with some pragmatic realism.

Wandering with limits

At the time of our trip, the danger was considerable, which is no time to tarry in avalanche terrain.

In fact, we heard that another party had recently set off a slide on the back side of the ridge—in some pretty steep terrain. The avalanche buried one of the guys, but his partner was able to rescue him.

We were already planning on being cautious, but this certainly underscored the importance. Still, looking at a map from Onyx, there was plenty of sub-30-degree terrain to explore.

On the second day, we opted to head north/northwest, and search for more conservative options, though the terrain looked a bit tricky to navigate. After wandering through trees and over a frozen and sometimes-not-so-frozen-creek, we skirted some short, steep slopes and ascended some benign drainages.

After an hour or so of wandering, we finally found something skiable, though the pain was not really worth the gain, including a long runout in 20 degree trees. So, we crossed the valley to check out some glades under Mount Aetna.

In the shadow of Aetna

The soaring Aetna, just as stately as any 14er, sports a famous line called the Grand Couloir which include at least 3,000 vertical feet of prime chute skiing. It looked tasty, but this time of year is virtually off limits. People ski it in the late spring, but even then it requires an abundance of caution.

We poked through some scraggy trees, being careful not to cross anything connected to Aetna’s run out, and eventually traversed some terrain to a mediocre glade. I can’t say the payout justified the price, but still I wouldn’t say the time was wasted.

The rewards of wandering

Shuffling your skis in fresh powder as you saunter about, the snow feels more energizing than depleting. Just the act of exploration was a reward in itself. We didn’t get lost, but matching map to mountain can sometimes prove a little tricky. Wandering implies that you won’t have it all figured out…you may just have to get out there and see for yourself. Not all who wander are lost.

After lunch back at the hut, we returned to our powder stash from the first day and chewed up most of the primo real estate.

More fresh wandering

That night, another 6 inches fell, covering most of our tracks. So, the next morning, we again hit the initial spot, though this time skiing a ridge slightly further south. It yielded some good turns, although including a few rocks for me. I guess there is no better way to break in some new skis. As they say in the Midwest, “the rocks come with the farm.” In other words, backcountry skiing is unpredictable, including sections of shallow snowpack.

All told, it was an excellent outing with a great crew—one I’d gladly do some more backcountry wandering with.

For more of my hut trip posts, see:

Goodwin Greene Hut

Margy’s Hut

Nokhu Hut

If you haven’t seen my outdoor devotional, check out Called to the Wild.

Hear about my top adventures from 2023: the good, the bizarre and the family friendly.

From Goodwin Greene Hut to Glacier National Park, 2023 served up some great adventure trips for my family and I. Many of the outings I share about were family friendly…at least five of the nine.

Considering I’m in the thick of raising young kids, I’m especially stoked on the family ones.
Here’s my top adventures from 2023, in no particular order:

⁠1. Ringing Rocks (the bizarre and family friendly).

I often read a devotional with my kids by Louie Giglio, “Indescribable” and “The Wonder of God’s Creation,” which covers many topics related to science and the Bible and often features bizarre and interesting places.

They mentioned a spot near Whitehall, Montana, where there are “singing rocks” or “ringing rocks.” These rocks contain enough iron ore that they sound almost like a bell when you hit them with metal object like a hammer, which they actually provide at the trailhead (no kidding). My family and I were intrigued, so we decided to visit there last summer, on our way to a work trip near Glacier.

Driving the rutted and steep road to get there in our aging Outback proved the true crux, and we ended up playing it safe and hiking the last mile.

This bizarre and off the beaten path place did not disappoint. Check out this video.

⁠2. Goodwin Greene Hut Trip (the good).

This past February, I headed on a 10^th Mountain Division hut trip with some Colorado Springs friends. This year, we headed to the hard-to-find Goodwin Greene Hut. The setting proved remote, the camaraderie fun, and the powder skiing epic.

Especially during the second ski day, we found some couloirs that were less than 30 degrees and filled with plenty of untouched fluff, up to 18 inches of the deep stuff. You can read a longer post about this adventure here.

⁠3. Socorro Spring Break (family friendly).

Where the heck is Socorro?

Over spring break, we sought warmer weather with one of our favorite camping families…they have five kids under the age of 12, which makes for a lot of fun combined with our family of four.

We planned to camp in Moab, but the forecast called for highs of only upper 40s, which would not make for fun nights, especially with kids. So, we opted for New Mexico, where the temps would be 60s and even 70s.

We ended up at the Box Canyon, near Socorro, which has some good sport climbing and boondock campsites, and a gravel road with plenty of room for the kids to roam and bike around. Just mind the cactuses.

Socorro is not an up and coming spring break destination per se…which was exactly the point. We navigated very few people. And the town offered its fair share of charm with its river bike path (full of goatheads) and $5 green Chile burritos at Sophia’s Café.

⁠4. Memorial Day Weekend at Vedauwoo (family friendly).

Over Memorial Day Weekend, we headed with two families to Vedauwoo, Wyoming, a place known for off-width climbing and mountain biking. We hoped to skirt the crowds in Colorado and it turned out to be a good decision. While many of the campsites were full, they were so spread out we never felt crowded.

We were able to camp right at the base of some climbing, which also proved a good spot for kids to roam and run wild—a key consideration at this stage of the game.

A friend and I did get a chance to sneak in a 3-pitch climb on the last morning, Edward’s Crack, which included a quintessential Vedauwoo offwidth pitch.

⁠5. Pikes Peak Skiing (the good).

This deserves a longer post in the future. Ever since I first moved to Colorado Springs, I have wanted to ski Pike’s Peak. Not just as a novelty, but to dig in, get to know the mountain and find the goods. However, beta is not easy to come by. And with the limited hours of the toll road, it might just be one of the most complicated places to ski backcountry, eh roadcountry…or however you would want to classify it.

Well, my friend Q, who lives at the base of the mountain and who has been skiing it for decades, was happy to show me the ropes.

If you recall, Colorado Springs had an unusually wet spring this year, so we went a handful of times. While it was raining in town all May and part of June, it was dumping snow on the mountain. Conditions remained quite good.

I’m thankful to have skied classics like Big Blue, Little Italy and Y Couloir. With Pikes Peak Highway a mere 15 minutes from my house, I have my eye on this gem for more fun in the future.

6. Crested Butte Trip (family friendly).

While heading to this ski mountain Crested Butte last March was not a “new” adventure per se, I always love skiing this resort that is the birthplace of “extreme skiing” and boasts 561 acres of expert terrain.

I worked at the mountain for a year while attending Western State College, and I always love a little nostalgia combined with some steep no-fall skiing.

The place also has some good family friend terrain, and Elizabeth and the kids and I fully partook during the day and enjoyed a hot tub at night. One afternoon I did get to ski many of the classics, after the family had their fill.

7. Glacier National Park (family friendly)

This park remains my favorite in existence. As a student at the University of Montana, I would often venture there with friends for a weekend backpacking trip or to kayak on the Middle Fork, which is also where I worked as a river guide for two seasons.

Speaking of which, one of my college buddies who owns a raft took our families down the Middle Fork, which was super fun.

Though, GNP is way more crowded than my college days of yesteryear. Like many parks dealing with the post covid boom, the reservation system offers a mixed blessing—a little pain to plan ahead, but a less crowded user experience.

⁠8. Colorado Cragging at an Unknown Spot (the good).

In early August, a buddy and I explored an off the beaten path crag near Old Stage Road. A tricky and lengthy approach brought us to a beautiful rock amphitheater, with great views of the lesser mountains and foothills of Pikes Peak.

We climbed three routes on solid stone, including an 8+ hand crack, a 9 sport climb and a 10b offwidth. It was a great experience over all, with one small exception.

I perhaps trusted the rock of this newer granite crag too much. Climbing an arete, I grabbed what I thought was a solid nob on the face, but soon dislodged the grapefruit sized rock that sent me swimming in space. The rock bounced clear of my friend by a mere 10 feet; I’m thankful this proved nothing more than an interesting anecdote.

⁠9. Peak Bagging in Lake City (the good).

In mid-July, my parents offered to watch our kids for four days, so Elizabeth and I did what any responsible kid-free couple would do: we took our camper to Lake City, Colorado, to hike some 14ers—something we rarely get to do these days.

We camped at a quiet spot off County Road 20, and then started early to climb Whetterhorn Peak, named because of it’s similar shape to the Matterhorn.

While I had climbed it before, it was Elizabeth’s first attempt. This peak offers lots of bang for your buck, including an exciting and exposed third class pitch near the summit, not to mention stunning views of dozens of peaks and remote valleys.

About ten years ago, I guided some college students up this peak, but one guy got sick, so we bailed and did not attempt the second peak: Umcompahgre.

This day, Elizabeth wasn’t up for double duty, but she was happy to let me go for it. The guidebook says hiking both would cover 11.6 to 16.5 miles, with 5,550 to 5,850 elevation gain. However, my total from Strava, ,after completing both with a shortcut was: 17.57 miles, 6,402 feet of elevation—a bit more than I bargained for.

Though Umcompahgre felt like a slog toward the end, I’m glad I linked them. The weather held beautifully…no thunderstorms storms, which is pretty rare in this part of Colorado. And this time I didn’t strand the second peak.

Wrap up

I’m thankful for all the adventures I had in 2023, including the bizarre and family friendly, and looking forward to 2024.
What about you, what have some of your top adventures been in 2023? What’s next for you this year?

Let me know your thoughts in the comments.

And if you like my posts, be sure to subscribe to my emails hear about future posts.

These outdoor adventure books will entertain, thrill and inspire you!

Looking for good outdoor adventure books to read this summer, or at another point in the year? Here’s a few I would recommend.

A few are classics and I believe all of them might be someday. They will entertain, thrill and inspire you! I believe they are worth your time.

My list

⁠1. “Dove,” by Robin L. Graham.

A teenager sails around the world solo and meets the love of his life. As part of his journey, he spends time at Nanuya Levu, which is a remote and beautiful island in Fiji. The afterward was the best part for me. ⁠

⁠2. “Touching the Void,” by Joe Simpson.

A classic mountaineering survival story that I reference in Called to the Wild that includes betrayal, survival and redemption.

⁠3. “A Walk In the Woods” by Bill Bryson.

A hilarious account of Bill Bryson thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail. If it was good enough for Robert Redford to star in a movie about it, it’s good enough for you to read :)⁠

⁠4. “Denali’s Howl” by Andy Hall.

An intriguing mountaineering story set on Alaska’s famous peak.⁠ This is considered the deadliest accident on Denali…kind of the Into Thin Air of Denali (see number nine on this list).

⁠5. “Astoria” by Peter Stark.

A riveting historical expedition disaster story—what could have happened to Lewis and Clark if things hadn’t gone so well.⁠

⁠6. “Emerald Mile” by Kevin Fedarko.

This rafting story tells the harrowing tale of the fastest and wildest descent of the Grand Canyon at high water. ⁠

⁠7. “Colorado 14er Disasters” by Mark Scott-Nash.

Entertaining, albeit tragic, lessons about hiking Colorado’s high peaks that some people approach as merely “a stairmaster with a view,” as Lou Dawson once said. More than just good arm-chair adventure quarterbacking, these stories entertain but also teach you along the way.

⁠8. “Blind Descent” by Brian Dickinson.

This Mount Everest survival features Brian Dickinson, a former US Navy Air Rescue Swimmer, whose passion became mountaineering. A story about a Christian mountaineer, which can be pretty rare in the outdoor literary canon.

⁠9. “Into Thin Air” by Jon Krakauer.

Probably the most famous mountaineering book of all time, the excellent prose makes this read more like literature than adventure chatter. I found it interesting reading it lately as I now the same age as the author and my perspective was similar. ⁠

⁠What’s your number 10?

Did you catch that there is only 9 outdoor adventure books on my list? ⁠What outdoor adventure book would you recommend to be the 10th book on my list? Reply in the comments.

Check out the climbing video that Sea Harp Press and I recently captured at a local crag.

I recently took one of the Sea Harp editors and his son climbing at one of my favorite crags in Colorado, Garden of the Gods, to make a Called to the Wild climbing video.

Eugene and his son, Tripp, who are avid climbers, joined me in the Garden for a stellar day of climbing.

Beyond just fun, our purpose was to capture a day in the life of climbers…to invite the viewer along on our adventure, much like the book, Called to the Wild, does.

Where we climbed

We hit up two of my favorite climbs: Cowboy Boot Crack and Family Values.

I chose Cowboy Boot Crack because it’s must do Garden classic that requires a variety of techniques like smearing and jamming and traditional protection.

Next, we checked out Family Values, a moderate sport climb on South Kindergarten rock, because it is wind sheltered and one of the prettiest walls in the park, with its vertical rock stripes that look like sandstone corduroy.

Climbing: the great connector

Getting out with Eugene and his son was fitting, considering climbing was how I first connected with Sea Harp.

The story goes, I was climbing at my local gym, City Rock, and I ran into Eugene.

We talked about ministry and Hope Has Arrived and eventually about writing. The subject of writing a devotional came up, and I mentioned Called to the Wild. He asked me to send it to him and the rest is history.

Enjoy the video…and a few sample chapters from the book

Hope you enjoy the Called to the Wild climbing video.

And if you ever get a chance to visit Garden of the Gods, check out the climbs I mentioned. You won’t be disappointed.

To find out more about Called to the Wild visit here. You can also read a few sample chapters here:
Prowling Lions

The Master Angler

The Truest Grit

Hear more about the release of my 40-day outdoor devotional and how this project came together.

I’m excited to share more about my outdoor devotional, Called to the Wild, which I recently published through Sea Harp Press.

The subtitle is: “Biblical reflections on faith, perseverance and surrender from one adventurer to another” and you can now purchase it on Amazon as well as other retailers.

You may be wondering, how did this all come together? I’d love to share more about this project and more about the inspiration to write it.

How this came together

This project has been in the works for several years. The short story is that I love Jesus, I love outdoor adventure and I like to write. So putting this together was a pretty natural outflow of that.

I share the full story in the book’s introduction, but briefly, when I was a river guide in college, a friend gave me the devotional, “In Quietness and Confidence” by David Roper. This book motivated me to study the Bible and connected with my passion for outdoor adventure. Roper offered some words of recommendation for my book…which was an unexpected surprise 🙂

I wondered if someday I might write something similar to Roper’s book, though more in my voice and also with stories about rock climbing and whitewater kayaking.

I started writing some devotionals about nine years ago (this project probably took longer than it should have), and then I wrote the bulk of them while going through cancer in 2016 and 2017.

The writing process proved surprising for me. My writing strength has always been as a journalist, and so I had to give God time to develop my devotional writing—which is a much different form, and challenging to say the least. It’s almost like writing mini sermons.

After finishing the manuscript (and reaching remission), my goal was to try to find a publisher to produce it. However, after reaching out to a handful of publishers, and hearing “no” or the dreaded no response, the project stalled.

A “chance” meeting

Then, after moving back to Colorado Springs, I rejoined a local climbing gym and ran into a ministry friend, named Eugene, who works for the publisher, Sea Harp Press.

We talked about ministry and Hope Has Arrived and eventually about writing. The subject of writing a devotional came up, and I mentioned Called to the Wild. He asked me to send it to him and the rest is history.

My goal with this project has not been to make money, but just expand the reach of my ministry. Note that 100% of the profit from this (and I’ve been told it will be modest) will go to my cancer nonprofit, Hope Has Arrived.

More about Sea Harp Press

This quote pretty much sums up the purpose of Sea Harp Press: “To be much occupied with Jesus.”

Sea Harp is a division of Nori Media, which houses several different publishers including Destiny Image and Sound Wisdom.

Besides newer authors like me, they also publish classic authors, including A.W. Tozer, Andrew Murray, Charles Spurgeon and G.K. Chesterton. It’s a little humbling and frankly kind of ridiculous to be listed in the same sentence as these legendary Christian writers and thinkers, but I’m thankful for the opportunity to be one of Sea Harp’s newer authors.

My Sea Harp friend, Eugene, is not just a passionate about books, but he also loves outdoor adventure, especially rock climbing.

It was important to me to work with a publisher who understands outdoor adventure…that many people don’t see sports like rock climbing or backcountry skiing as “extreme” or risky, but more so a passion and a way of life—a blessing that God gives us.

More about the launch

You can buy the book on Amazon, and it will also be the featured book on Sea Harp during the month of May.

If you want to read some sample chapters ahead of time, you can also do so on Sea Harp’s website:

Called to the Wild (a daily reading)

Searching for the Good Life

Hiking and Prayer Disciplines

.99 Ebook promo

From now until April 30, you can get a copy of the Ebook on Amazon for just .99!

If you pick one up, I’d really appreciate it if you wrote a review on Amazon. That’s a big part of Sea Harp is offering it so cheap—to get some reviews.

As a previously unpublished author, getting some positive reviews will really help me get the word out there. For any help you offer, I would be sincerely grateful.

Whether you are a friend or future friend who might read Called to the Wild, I hope you enjoy the stories and that some make you smile or stick in your memory. I especially hope that the book inspires you to get outside, love of God’s Word and especially love the Guide Himself.

Yours for trusting the Guide, 

-Chris Lawrence

How to store and keep your backcountry skins ready to ski another season.

While the skiing season is far from over—at least in Colorado—it’s also a good time of year to begin thinking about how to store your backcountry skins properly.

Thus begins that exciting but awkward time of year when you feel pulled between a variety of outdoor sports: should I climb, mountain bike…or should I still ski?
The answer is YES.

Damaged backcountry skins

Taking care of your backcountry skins might not seem like a priority in the late spring or summer, but in a few short months, it certainly will be.

When the snow begins to fly again, it can be a real bummer when you unfurl your skins and realize they are toast—they won’t stick or the glue has rotted and leaves sticky residue on your skis, like honey. Kind of like the anti-wax. Been there done that (see the above example).

Backcountry skins wear out over time, but exactly how long should they last?

How long will skins last?

This can be a tough question to answer, but manufacturers, like Dynafit, say their skins, made by Pomoca, will last up to 150,000 vertical meters, which equals nearly 500,000 vertical feet. That’s a lot of vertical gain!

Let’s break this down a bit, because math is hard. If you ski 5,000 vertical feet every time you go out, you would get about 100 days out of your skins. Or, if you do more like 3,000, then you would get at least 150 days.

However, if you don’t store your skins correctly, you will certainly get less!

For me, I measure the longevity more so in years. Typically, mine last about five seasons.

Storing your backcountry skins correctly

That’s why proper storage is key.

Here’s my top tips on how to store them:

1. Store your backcountry skins in a cool, dry place. In other words, don’t use your garage or storage shed. Once it is heats up, your garage will get blazing hot, and the fragile glue on your skins will quickly age. Definitely don’t leave them in the back of your truck, for similar reasons.
2. Dry them out thoroughly before storing. This might be obvious, but you want to make sure they are plenty dry before tucking them away for a summer hibernation.
3. Use a skin protector. It’s important to put the skins on skin protectors, or plastic sheets so they can get some air but also have contact with the edges of the skins. Here’s a video that explains more.
4. Store them away from dirt, pet hair or other debris. The more debris that collects on the adhesive of the backcountry skin, the less sticky they will be.
5. Consider storing them in the freezer. Not everyone has this option. In my house, we quickly run out of space. But when you put them in the freezer, the temperatures never fluctuate. It’s like your backcountry skins forever live in Narnia…they will last a long time because it’s forever winter. One can only dream of such things…

A trip to a remote 10^th mountain hut included great powder skiing and brotherhood.

The Goodwin Greene Hut near Aspen holds the reputation for being one of the most remote and difficult huts to find.

I quickly understood why as my friends and I struggled to find it as darkness descended on a cold evening this past February.

In total, the route ascends 2,800 vertical feet over 6.5 miles, which can be challenging with a loaded pack and hauling sleds.

For this trip—now my third in a 10^th Mountain Division Hut (technically part of the Alfred Braun Hut System)—it seemed fitting that I went there with a crew of mostly veterans: Airforce. Living in Colorado Springs, eventually you will meet some good people from the stars and stripes.

This trip served up excellent powder turns, brotherhood and also some thoughts about legacy.

Dusk and desperation

Our group of eight left the trailhead at about 11 a.m., which seemed a reasonable start.

But after six hours of slogging with two sleds, which were proving more of a hindrance than a help, the hut was no where in sight. Soon the temperatures plummeted and the winds swirled forebodingly.

One of the guys, an accomplished combat medic, seemed to sense the urgency.

“We gotta find this hut,” he said. “Now!”

His words jolted us awake like a cup of stiff cappuccino. Indeed, we needed to find our shelter. Temps already dropping into the single digits!

A buddy, nicknamed “Q,” and I cruised ahead to scout, while the other six wrestled the cumbersome sleds.

After skirting a large peak, we followed some trail marker wands that started descending, which didn’t seem right—especially when you know you may have to ascend the same vertical again.

We continued down the drainage toward a clump of trees.

I wasn’t sure if were on route, but then we saw it: a small blinking light near the trees.

Someone had installed a solar light on a wand, which signaled the hut was nearby.

Past the trees, we found it.

About 30 minutes later, we were all sitting inside with the stove blazing and hot tea flowing.

More about our group

Like a lot of trips, our group was a hodgepodge of friends, and friends of friends. But in this case, most were Airforce. Something unique about this trip was that this core of friends sought to honor a fellow cadet who passed away unexpectedly in 2009 named Luc Gruenther.

I did not meet Luc, but from hearing about him, I saw a good picture. As a young husband and father, he served as an F-16 pilot and was a standout in nearly everything he did. As an outdoor athlete he quickly mastered rock climbing, pushing grades of 5-13. One of his sayings that his friends still quote is: “Whatever you do, don’t suck at it.”

And from what they tell me, he lived those words. I’m thankful for his service and sacrifice for our country, along with my other friends who serve.

The skiing

Speaking of remembering people, the Goodwin Greene hut is named after two Colorado skiiers who died in a climbing accident: Peter Goodwin and Carl Greene.

Today, the hut that bears their names serves as an amazing launching point for powder seekers.

The next morning, we set out around 9:30 or 10 a.m. and quickly found some.

We skied several north facing shots that led down to the Bruin Creek drainage. Although somewhat short, the powder proved in excellent condition, with a fresh six inches from a few days ago.

In total, we skied roughly four laps over five miles and at least 2,000 feet of elevation gain, which was a great first day.

The second day was even better.

“The goods” at Goodwin Greene Hut

This time, we explored some north/northeast shots just north of Gold Hill.

One clarification, Gold Hill is much more than just a “hill.” With a summit of 12,359 feet, this craggy peak (see above) sports an incredibly steep north and northeast face that is quite avalanche prone. In the spring, I’m sure it skies phenomenally. But this time of year, it would be what surfers call, “death on a stick.”

After a long tour up to a small lake, we hit a short line, and then farmed, or skied repeatedly, one particular area with sub 30-degree terrain.

That was a good start, but soon Travis, who has a six sense for finding good snow and lines, discovered some even better shots east of us that we named Couloir A, B and C.

These proved the best runs by far. Each hovered around 30 degrees, with much more consistent steepness.

Our woops and shouts echoed in the drainage as we skied a few laps on these couloirs.

On one lap, the guys paid homage to Luc by spreading a few of his ashes—a fitting tribute, and something they have done on other trips, too.

Brotherhood lessons

Which got me thinking.

I was inspired by how my companions continued to honor and remember their friend, even 14 years later.

Legacy questions

This brings up a question of legacy: if I were to pass away suddenly, beyond my family, how would my friends—my brothers—remember me? I think those in the military often do this better than the average person, but still there are lessons to be learned.

Legacy isn’t always just theoretical. We all will leave one—some sooner than others. Everyone’s life is fragile—far more than we ever would like to admit.

Seven years ago I could have died young when I faced stage IV cancer. However, through prayer and God’s intervention, I miraculously recovered and lived to ski another day. For more about my story, read The Fear of Losing It All.

We would like to think that our tomorrows are guaranteed, but even the best of us don’t always live as long as we hope.

For those still here, all we can do is try to live these days the best we can. Sometimes that might involve some course corrections in marriage, parenting, friendships and our spiritual life.

For me, I seek to live a life that honors God first and foremost, and let the good of that relationship trickle into every other relationship. As Matthew 6:33 says, “Seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all of these things will be added unto you.”

Following these words is the best way I know how to be the kind of friend, husband, father, coworker, and brother worth remembering.

Wrap up

On the fourth day, we packed up and left the Goodwin Greene hut—tired but rewarded.

This year’s 10^th mountain division hut trip were once again epic. The skiing and camaraderie proved top notch, as were some of the lessons beyond skiing.

I can’t wait for the next hut trip, even if includes a tedious approach.

A last-minute trip to Margy’s Hut dished up plenty of late-season powder and hyjinks.

A couple of weekends ago, a few friends and I embarked on a last-minute trip to Margy’s Hut, near Aspen. The outing dished up surprisingly good late-season powder skiing along with plenty of movie-quote hijinks.

About a week prior, I received the following text: “Hey guys, I’ve got a crazy proposition for you. A bunch of huts are coming available at the end of this month…is anybody game/available?”

Surprisingly, I was…thanks to an open weekend and my gracious wife 🙂

Meaning behind the title

I like to refer to that weekend as the Hut Du Jour, or the hut of the day, for a few reasons:

1. Booking last minute huts requires flexibility and you as you probably won’t know which hut you are heading to, until you actually are. Margy’s literally became our “hut du jour,” while we almost nearly ended up at the Sangre Hut. I like to joke that my friend, Travis, moonlights as a hut day trader.

2. My friends and I like to quote the movie Dumb and Dumber. And considering the hut’s relative proximity to Aspen, it proved inevitable.

“I’m talking about a little place called Aspen…where the beer flows like wine, where the women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capistrano…”

Here is dialogue that inspired the title of this post:

Lloyd (Jim Carrey): Excuse me Flo…What’s the soup du jour?”
Flo, waitress: “It’s the soup of the day.”

Lloyd: “That sounds good, I’ll have some.”

What’s especially hilarious isn’t the words themselves, but the laughter (see video below).

However, maybe the best Dumb and Dumber reference came in an unexpected text from a buddy who originally said he was out:

“I’m cleared. You got room for one more on that hog if I still wanna go to Aspen?”

We were pretty stoked he could come. And now suddenly there were four of us going to Margy’s Hut.

Background on Margy’s

A bit more about Margy’s, this 16-person hut, located about 10 miles northeast of Aspen, Colorado, hails as one of the first 10^th Mountain Division Huts built.

The 10^th Mountain Division Huts were built in the 1980s in Colorado and were named to honor the division of the United States Army that specialized in mountain and winter warfare during World War II. After the war, many of these veterans settled in Colorado and became influential in developing skiing here.

In total, roughly 30 of these huts dot the Colorado high country.

My hut resume

My 10th Mountain Division hut resume is quite short—Margy’s Hut was only my second, while I have spent time at other huts in Colorado and Utah.

There is something special about these huts: the history, the layout, which always seem to feature epic mountain views, a large wood-burning stove and other surprising amenities, like photovoltaic lights and lots of good cookware that you don’t have to schlepp in.

The touches of luxury are welcome, considering most huts sit deep in the backcountry.  

Getting there

But before you can enjoy one of these huts, first you have to get there.

Margy’s Hut has one of the longer approaches, clocking in at six miles and 2,600 feet of elevation gain (though Strava listed the mileage as more like seven miles). What can make the approach challenging depends on how much you are willing to carry, aka food and gear choices.

Starting out

After a 4:30 a.m. meetup in Colorado Springs, we drove to Aspen and started on the trail at about 11 a.m.

The skin proved mostly uneventful but long: a gradual uphill slog weighed down by a hot sun and sagging packs from chicken fajitas, guacamole and elk steaks. Forget the freeze dried meals…we wanted to eat well.

At points, continual glopping, snow sticking to our skins, wearied the soul, as did the hot spots in my boots, but we made it nonetheless.

One motivation that kept us forging ahead was six inches of fresh snow on the ground. Even though temperatures heated up, we figured conditions would still be good on the higher elevated north faces. And we were right.

Everything is better in a hut

Finally we arrived at the hut, for a night of card playing, tea drinking and oversize elk steaks. As my friend so eloquently put it “Everything is better in a hut.” Which is true of so many things.

With only four of us in a 16-person hut, it kind of felt like we were staying at a camp during the offseason.

The next day, we went powder seeking at a relatively sane hour of 10:00 a.m.

Quickly we found some, north facing shots about one mile from the hut. These relatively short slopes were mostly low angled terrain of 30 degrees or less, but the powder stayed below freezing and skiied marvelously.

We spent the good part of that day farming the same area. Though there was really no need: with so much wide open real estate in such a remote setting, there was plenty left to ski—and no one would probably be here for several more days.

We returned the same area the last morning for a few more laps. It began snowing and the freshly falling snowflakes, floating down like white confetti, amped our ski stoke and left us wanting more.

All in all, it was a great trip. There were plenty of good conversation and more Dumb and Dumber quotes—we pretty much recycled all possible.

I’m looking forward to more hut adventures with this crew—ones planned well in advance or I’ll gladly take another Hut Du Jour.

Yesterday, I hiked the Manitou Incline as part of Opt Outside, and I’m grateful I did.

Most people reading this probably know about the Incline and Opt Outside, but just in case:

The Incline is a short and punchy hike in Manitou Springs that ascends 2,000 feet of elevation gain in less than a mile up railroad ties. I previously blogged about it in this post a few years ago.

Speaking of Opt Outside, REI launched it in 2015 to motivate people to get outside on Black Friday instead of fighting crowds indoors to buy stuff.

This day has really taken off, since at least 16 million people have posted to Instagram using #optoutside. Pretty crazy.

I have participated each of the years since it started, whether hiking, biking or climbing. Of course, I don’t need a campaign to motivate me to get outside, but I’ll take the excuse 🙂 And for me, the day has even deeper significance than celebrating the outdoors.

The day falls after Thanksgiving—a time when I’m already primed with gratitude.

Thankful to Opt Outside

When I head outside on Black Friday, I’m stoked to enjoy fresh air, nature and beautiful landscapes of open spaces or parks. But I’m not just grateful in an abstract sense. I’m thankful to God because he created these spaces and wild places, knowing that they would provide refreshment, relaxation and a much needed “reset.”

He knew that our modern society would force us indoors more and more that breathing all of the manufactured air and living a sedentary lifestyle would kill us slowly.

Case in point: much of my work these days involves writing, content creation and managing websites. After a long workday on the screen, (or sometimes in the middle of it) I don’t just want to get outside; I need to get outside and move.

And so I am grateful that God provided such outlets. Psalms 107:21 seems to sum it up: “Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind.”

My Incline adventure

So, with thankfulness in my heart, on Friday morning I showed up to the Incline about 7:30 a.m.

While hardly a wilderness experience, this short hike gives lot of bang for your buck, offering beautiful views while easily giving you as much cardio as a hard run. It usually takes less than 1:30 car to car, depending how you descend, which helps me return early enough so my wife and kids could enjoy the day, too.

Opting outside is a family necessity, too.

Pandemic changes on the Incline

This year’s hike on the Incline would be a little different, considering the pandemic. Because of Covid-19 guidelines, hiking the Incline now requires registering for a free permit in advance, so they can limit the number of people who hike it. In fact, I noticed probably as few as 1/10 of the normal crowds.

Another difference is that by city ordinance, hikers must wear a face mask in Manitou Springs, even outside.

I noticed that most people ascended maskless, which I later discovered is ok. But I still put mine on whenever I passed anyone, as a courtesy. However, I will say wearing the mask made it super difficult to breathe (surprise!) as the altitude already pushed me toward the redline anyway.

Keeping a fairly casual pace, I reached the top in a decent time. Though, considering I currently live in the Flatlands, it’s hard to feel very strong on this hike.

That wasn’t always the case. In the first couple years of our marriage, my wife and I lived in Colorado Springs and made the Incline a regular thing. Maybe someday we could be locals again?

Once I reached the top, I enjoyed views of the early morning Colorado crystalline blue over the valley. I love the Centennial State.

Descending with gratitude

No longer so hampered my need for oxygen, I pondered some more things I’m grateful for on the 3-mile descent of Barr Trail.

Rounding out this year’s list includes my family and extended family and also health—some of them weathered Covid-19). I’m also thankful for our friends, and that the non profit I started, Hope Has Arrived, continues to grow, which might be one of the few blessings of the pandemic.

I’m also grateful for how the people of Manitou Springs have adapted with rules that help keep people safe on the Incline, instead of just shutting it down. It’s great to see many cities and states that continue to preserve and protect public lands.

I look forward to opting outside again next year. And in the meantime, I still have another 364 days to get out there as well.