“For a couple of days during the High Country Caravan trip, Kevin Pearce joined Jeremy Jones, Nick Russell, Danny Davis, cinematographer Nick Schneider and I. Kevin, Danny and Nick were friends in high school in Vermont and have stayed close throughout the years. Kevin expressed interest in get-ting into the backcountry with us, so we put a plan into motion. It was no easy road—Kevin prepared and worked for years to put himself in a position to go following his well-documented traumatic brain injury while preparing for the 2010 Vancouver Olympics. Here’s Kevin atop his first Sierra peak, deep within the range, with friends. He rode down the steepest line of the trip in relatively poor snow quality. Everyone rode it well and proud.” Photo: Ming Poon 5/18/17—GOLDEN EAGLE PEAK DAY 6, HIGH COUNTRY CARAVAN Under a setting sun, I gain the 12,000-foot pass. We have some criti-cal riding to get us to our next camp, but before I say goodbye to this landscape, I unstrap my pack and pause to take it all in. A sea of previ-ously unseen mountains now has meaning. Our lines from the last five days stand out prominently in a haystack of craggy peaks, proud in the pink light. We’ve covered a lot of ground on this trip. Today’s effort has my mind floating, the perfect elixir for the wear and tear of six days of constant movement. Behind us lay two unnamed and previously unclimbed and unridden peaks, now ridden in perfect snow. With the snow warmed to perfection, Nick Russell readies himself to drop in. The largest golden eagle I have ever seen soars by and circles the face we are about to ride, a welcoming omen. We all take turns descending the blank canvas. Walking back to camp, curiosity and ambition get the best of us and we divert our effort to the end of a tight valley. Two hours later we repeat the processes on a snow-blanketed peak that seems out of place in the rock-heavy Sierra. Forever the dream was to climb and ride unnamed peaks in Alaska, then the more remote ranges of the Arctic, Alps and eventually the Himalayas. Ironically, breaking new ground in my home range has been the hardest challenge yet due to its remoteness. To think of all the learning-by-doing, all the steps, all the effort needed to be right here, right now is overwhelming. You cannot hack the High Sierra—there are no shortcuts to new ground. All winter, my focus was getting into the thick parts of the Sierra. Eight trips in all. Every trip received every last step my legs could give. Every trip we went to a new drainage. Every time I would show up rested and fresh, well fed and hydrated. Our days would start early and end late. Late in the day, we’d find a new horizon and I would always say the same thing, “We need to get there, into the untouched land, where the unknowns lie.” Just like my first foot-powered trip to Alaska, this season in the Sierra has allowed me to expand my horizons. After 30 miles of haul-ing heavy packs over seven days and tens of thousands of vertical feet, spots that used to seem too far away are now within the realm of pos-sibility. I can get to the next level—to the place where the peaks have no names and have seen no tracks. 054 THE SNOWBOARDER’S JOURNAL
The Snowboarder's Journal frequency 15.3 : Page 54
