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I can just make out the tree line through the thick morning fog. Between me, hidden in a pile of old cut logs and the thick hemlock forest is a sloped meadow covered in fireweed and small shrubs. It's here that I plan to shoot a deer. A squirrel chatters aggressively, a warning sign that something is too close for comfort. Crack crash, I hear the distinct sound of branches snapping. I know there is a large animal up there just out of view. My heart stops and I wait for another sign to confirm my suspicions.
Now, I wish this were a story of an experienced hunter calling out a deer and making the kill but it's not. I’ve never hunted for deer in my life nor am I even sure there are many deer in the area. Something, however, compelled me to wake up super early and sneak around the woods in the dark with a gun. I wait two hours and then get bored. I take out my camera and tripod and do some lame self-portraits of myself holding a gun and looking all pro hunter/woodsman style.
I’d like to take some time to explain my situation but first I need to put forward a few assumptions that I have. First I need to assume that if you have found your way to this writing you are a snowboarder and are predisposed and interested in all things mountainous. Also, if you’re anything like me in the fall you are getting a bit stir crazy with a mixture of both enthusiasm and anxiety for the pow turns that are now not so far away.
The fire is going inside my tent and I’ve just finished my breakfast of bacon and eggs. I’m into my third cup of coffee. With pen to paper, I’ve gotten a good start to this photo easy. I’m writing about the days I’ve already spent here in the Nass Valley just north of Terrace BC. I’ve been waking up early and hunting grouse and scouting out places to hunt bigger game in the future. This valley is blessed with large jagged mountains that funnel down to a unique valley of recent volcanic rock. There are plenty of lakes and rivers stacked full of steelhead, trout and salmon. I’ve been fishing, hunting, shooting photos and picking wild mushrooms. The Nass is a recreational paradise and I’ve been here by myself for four days just taking it all in and enjoying what the valley has to offer. Getting outside and connecting with nature is a big part of this trip and my life in general but that alone is not why I’m here. It's fall, October 7th and I want to go snowboarding.
Talon has most bad-ass tent ever… yes that is a wood-stove INSIDE the tent!
Earlier this spring, a friend and I took a drive to the Nass Valley to kill an afternoon and have a look around. It was sunny and our heads darted from left to right as we looked up at the mountains and large rideable bowls from inside the truck. We drove through the lava beds and past a few native villages (the only settlements in the area) and continued on down the road to the coast. We rounded a corner and bam, there it was. The sickest, steepest peak caked in snow with several amazing rideable lines running down the northwest face of this thing. I slammed on the brakes and we left the car in the middle of the road and got out for a better look. We started screaming and jumping around all crazy and stoked. It was one of those magazine Jeremy Jones style lines that seem so out of reach but right then was staring us right in the face. That sight is what has brought me back to the Nass.
I need to find a route up that thing for the winter but why was I just lounging around in the tent writing? I sit in the tent by the warmth of the stove that morning trying to figure out why I wasn't rushing out to get up that mountain. Another cup of coffee. Is it because I’m alone? Maybe I’ll just do some writing and then get going. With a bit more thought, I peg it to fear and figure I was writing not because I needed to, but because I was procrastinating. Ahead of me I know I have a 50-minute drive up a steep logging road, then what I estimate to be a 4 hour bushwhack through a nasty tangle of trees bushes and devils-club. Not to mention the super steep incline and that the only trail is that made from wild animals. Once I’m out of the bush it's a one-hour scramble up loose rock and boulders to the alpine. My snowboarding gear is with me in anticipation of ridding some glaciers or early fall snow but I know it has to stay in the truck. The bush is just too thick and there is very little snow. Therein lies the problem. I’m not a "hiker". If there’s a chance I can ride something good I’ll make the effort, but to leave the board behind and head into the alpine is tough for me. I get lost in my thoughts daydreaming. I find myself doing cab fives off cornices in my mind eye and I feel the excitement for winter coming on again. Fuck it. I need to find a route up this thing for the winter. I pack my bag with sleeping gear, camera gear and just enough food. This is a recon mission and everything else stays behind. I start my hike straight on up through the bush at one in the afternoon.
In the beginning of the hike is steep but the bushes are sparse in the old growth forest. I know it's going to get tough when I hit all the alder and shrubs that grow in the avalanche run-outs. I’m feeling the hike and it's good to get the legs pumping. I call it training and tell myself this beats the gym. This motivates me. I push it a little harder and get some elevation-gain happening. I’m in the thick of it now. It sucks and is slow going. The tangle of bush and shrubs holds me back. It's like the mountains don't want me up there today or something, and the peak I aim to reach seems a lot further away then it did from where I started. I get agitated and start charging through the bush recklessly. I come to a steep ravine. It’s too steep to climb down. I use the tree branches to swing and slide my way down the cliff. It starts to become fun and I get stoked and send it down the next ravine. I think to myself, damn this is getting dangerous. What’s wrong with me? Then it hits me I’m snowboarding. Not in a conventional way but I’m still flowing up and down the mountain and I feel alive. A catchphrase I often say comes to mind "I don't ride my board I ride the mountain". I chuckle and continue on in this way until I reach the alpine. The walking gets easier and the views get better. I don't have my snowboard but I’m in the mountains and I’m getting one step closer to ridding that "dream line".
It may not have been the ultimate goal but this view seems like an accomplishment none-the-less
I find myself on top of the ridge at around 6 in the evening. It gets dark around 8 so I have time to shoot a few photos and find a place to sleep before the sun goes down. In the morning my plan was to walk the ridge and find a way up the last little peak and have a good full view of the large peak I intend to ride. The ridge is a kilometer and the little peak is a mountain and I realize right away that I’m not even going to get to look at the main feature I intended to scope out. I relax and wander around the meadowy ridge. I notice plenty of mountain goat signs as I look for a place to bed down. I feel like an animal except that I think too much. My thoughts are better on top of this mountain then they usually are. I make my bed and finish up shooting the last sliver of sun set and crawl into bed. I’m smiling and dozing off at the same time, glowing with my not-so-grand yet fulfilling accomplishment. I’m rewarded with an unexpected late-night show of the Northern Lights and in the morning, a close encounter with two mountain goats that turned into a 20-minute staring contest. I still haven't figured out if it's my camera and snowboard that bring me to these amazing places or if I’m just a clumsy human dragging around clutter in the backcountry in search of adventure and freedom or whatever else posses people to go into the mountains. There is one thing however that does stays consistent in my thoughts and that it's the mountains and the natural world that makes all good things happen.
Mountain Goat, check
Aurora, check
