It was the eve of the Super Bowl in 1978. Denver-Dallas. The State of Colorado was rabid with energy, enthusiasm, and hype. Throughout the ski area at Steamboat the patrons were getting their last runs in before hitting the bar for the big game. Everyone seemed anxious and focused on the importance of the spectacle. Everyone, but him.
There was a fresh 10” that had blanketed the mountain the evening before. He had made up his mind to take a lift up to the back bowls with only some rented snowshoes, a small pack with essentials, and the desire to get away from the noise.
Heading off the back bowl to the south, he was surprised by the loft and lift the shoes had in the deep powder. Typically he was accustomed to his skis sinking down, sometimes waist deep before they compacted enough to offer support. But snowshoes in dry powder are true winter travel companions.
The pine and spruce branches held the new snow as well, which provided a deep, quiet, and cavernous feel to the mountain forest. His heart beating with rush of adreneline, he used his poles to guide himself down carefully between the trees and the large rock outcroppings that give these mountains their namesake.
Although the views from the ridge were an obvious attraction; he much preferred the stillness and solitude of the forest interior. So it was there, in the deep quiet woods where he settled in to relax, eat from his pack and contemplate his achieved location. But there was a sound emanating from further in the forest that he found unidentifiable. He packed up to explore the source.
It did not take him long to solve the mystery. As he drew closer he could hear the sounds of cheering and loud talking. Peering from around a tree he watched another backcountry escape artist sitting on a large flat rock. However, this fellow had a large boon box that was blasting the Super Bowl game throughout the forest.
So, with little choice, he decided to squat down at the base of the tree, eat some granola, and listen to the game.
When in America……
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