Snow

Snowshoeing in Paradise: A Pilgrimage to Artist Point

  Story and photos by John D’Onofrio   A blessing…and a curse. Here in the ragged northwest we are blessed with some of the most dramatic mountains in the world.  The peaks are sharp against the sky, wild fangs of rock and ice.  The weather has had its way with them and they are shaped and chiseled by its ferocity …

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Avoiding Hypothermia: Stay Warm in Winter’s Embrace

by JoAnn Roe     How often have you said, while shivering on a cold ski slope, “oh, well, I have thin skin from living in a warm place. I’ll get used to it.” True, your body does make changes to accommodate temperature and altitude, but not instantly. You need to be aware of how the body protects itself from …

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Snowshoe Season is Almost Here: Six Trips for Winter Fun

by John D’Onofrio With winter knocking on the door, it’s time to start thinking about getting the snowshoes down and planning some fun in the snow. The Mount Baker Highway (WA 542) provides convenient access to a number of wonderful and scenic adventures west of the mountain. Here are a half dozen options – all accessed from a 20-mile long …

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Cascadian Rhythms: Commitment on Glacier Peak

Story & photos by Drew Lovell Some have said that the thirtieth year can be an auspicious time in a person’s life. A time when the confidence in one’s path is either affirmed or destroyed. A year when the need for discernment can arise within one’s consciousness. For me, it was a hard year, a good year, a tumultuous year. Witnessing death …

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Facing the Fall Line: Uncertainty, Gravity and Love

Story & photos by Abby Sussman My love for skiing began with a story. This was before I knew what it felt like to float on powder, before I stepped into free-heel bindings, before I knew what “off-piste” meant. My infatuation with finding the rhythm to link one turn with another began with a story given to me by an ex-boyfriend …

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Antarctica: When Clouds Become Mountains

by Abby Sussman When I walk a trail, wander the silty perimeter of a river, or weave through a snow bound forest, I spend much of the time looking down. I’m not particularly clumsy, nearsighted, or interested in my boots. I am looking for animal tracks. The physical acts of observation: tenderly tip-toeing over the imprint of an elk’s passage, …

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