Last night I was beat. I hit the sack and did not stir until 4am. I decide while dozing from 4 to 6 I am extremely fatigued. This morning will be my rest time. If things look better I will skin up Heather’s after lunch and do one run for the day. It’s snowing hard and has done for some time, pretty much sealing my future.
J & T come back from their morning’s ventures to see what B & I are up to. We head east from the lodge and up. We are quickly split into four separate groups of one. It is quiet, real quiet. Anytime the group in the back country splits like that you are in your own world but with the new snow it is deathly silent. I walk and there is the swish, pause, swish, pause, swish, the repetitive sound and the repeat of the movement cause the world to disappear. I call this the Zen of the uptrack. Listen carefully and the air moving through the trees whispers sweet nothings. The wind picks up and it screams. The snow flakes landing are again soundless. I pause on the track to wait for the folks behind to catch up and as each one approaches I listen to the click, click, click of their bindings which quits as they pull into line.
The sound of silence is deafening.