my ol' friend, Graysill Mountain, a stalwart warrior rising up and out of Cascade Creek. the Race Course strode gallantly very near this 12,504 beauty. photo by ilg."So it has come about that all moral and spiritual values are expressed in terms of altitude...The mountain is not merely something externally sublime. It has great historic and spiritual meaning for us: it stands for us as the ladder of life. More, it is the ladder of the soul, and in a curious way, the source of religion."
- Jan Smut
***
As Andrew and i shared a chairlift ride up to the Start Line, the lightness of our nordic skis dangling in air seemed an analgesic balm to our pre-effort nerves. The historical imagery of these mountains and my relationship with them permeated and lengthened my memories. i found it nearly relaxing to realize that i would soon be racing nearly 25 miles on my skis up and down through this transcendent snow-choked wildness. The San Juan Mountains all-ways affect me thusly. It cannot be stemmed. Their friendly, seductive aloofness shifts my feeble brain easily into a higher gear of symbolic and metaphoric fancy. ilg alone, in these Sacred uprisings of granite through which ambrosial creeks and provoking pines grace, is content in ways unspeakable.
As my ski tips kissed the unloading platform, however, all my greater concepts of what these mountains stand for came to a scraping, very disconcerting stop...
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