Winter 

Alaska Dreaming

Moody Wyoming

So serene some days, so turbulent today

rains' already come in, snows' on the way

hear the wind tumble, rumble away

Look to the indoors on days like today

So taken by the growing of grey into blue

I'll wonder and wait, patiently, for you

finish the chores, stoke the fire true

make note of that moment and step into the new

Life's in the detail of these moody Wyoming days:

  

99% of the Time

Storm days!

Skiing will be good.

Decisions, rationals, and underlying certainty clutter the equation.

Adam Carman in the Sliver Couloir

     Bruce Tremper said it like this: 

     "If you're 99% certain that you wont be avalanched and you ski 100 days a year, you will die 1 day that year." (Staying Alive in Avalanche Terrain)

     What rationale is this, which allow days like yesterday to transpire?

    Calls began to come in, wondering if Peter (my brother) was ok. A helicopter had been seen flying into Death Canyon, usually signaling trouble. We didn't know tragedy would unfold. 

Comfort in the crucible of Prospector Peak

Peter was boot-packing up the Sliver Couloir. 100% sure he would set off  avalanches. Yet he proceeded with purpose, placing himself in that position. Confident in his ability to control the situation.

South of Peter a posse of wild men using the same equation, to calculate their odds, would be less fortunate.

These situations, however irrational, are inherent to living this life. 

Today my thoughts are with the Spackmans. Like Jarad, I'm inspired by the places capable of carrying out the sum to these equations.

Avalanche terrian.

Jarad Spackman factored these variables. His solution was unexpected and tragic. Now he is gone, so swift death travels in the mountains.

"Last night on the mountain, I gave my horn a blow
Echos started comin' back from long, long ago
A foggy cloud was risen, I felt you all around
In the air that I was breathing', you sang in every sound"

-Darrell Scott

Today echoes from the past, stirring remembrance of the ones we've lost. I offer this simple thought: play well friends, but remember the ones you'll leave behind, for their suffering will be the greatest. 

We'll feel you in the mountains Jarad. Your spirit will sing. May your friends and family find peace and beauty while enduring the horrible darkness of losing you.  

Genesis

June 23, 1925. Fifty-million cubic yards of sedimentary debris. Spring's sodden soils, laden with the immensity of time, avalanche down the north face of Sheep Mountain. Torrents of red earth race across a prolific river, climbing 300 feet up the opposite bank. The river is dammed, stagnated for two years.
   

May 18, 1927. Another sloppy-wet spring spatters the valley. Dam failure. The ensuing tidal waves cascades, recreating, the narrow river. Water tumbles as high as a man, for over 25 miles.

The township of Kelly doesn't stand a chance. Church and School, being placed on higher ground are the only survivors. Divine devastation rewrites man's draft and Jackson's Hole is changed forever.

Already clinging to the fringe of society: Kelly, becomes stuck in time. Left to fester, as Grand Teton National Park is established in 1929 insuring modern hemorrhaging at a lesser rate.

Consider the magnitude of circumstance. Upon these deductions, I reserve this space for revisionist- history. To be told impartially by the teller, hoping to impact the told. I implore civil discourse and lively debate! Thanks for visiting.


   

Gros Ventre slide 85 years on.

Lower Slide Lake