Cold? Sorry, I hadn't noticed

There's nothing like a little brisk weather to make you stand up and say, "Isn't it great to be alive?" Either that, or stay under the covers all day and never come out. One or the other.

But you can't stay under the covers forever. There's stuff to do out here! Last Thursday, for example, I went skiing. It was 16 degrees below zero, which is pretty cold, but there was fresh snow and barely anyone was out there messing it up. I was getting freshies left and right... of course, I was probably also developing frostbite on my left and right earlobes, but that's really beside the point.

Here in Montana cold weather is nothing new, and most people barely seem to notice it. It was probably about -20 when I went to a party on Friday night, but that didn't seem to keep people away... although I think it was close to -30 when I left, which could have prevented me from going home if my car didn't start.



But it did, and the next morning Craig and I set out for a nice sub-zero day of ice climbing. I imagine some readers may never have experienced such frigid temperatures. Basically, think of a seven-layer cake — that's about the right number of layers to be wearing. Generally I went with a thin Duofold Coolmax thermal top, turtleneck, light fleece, heavier fleece, heaviest fleece (bought in extra-large size specifically for such circumstances), then my North Face Gore-Tex jacket. Toasty as a bun in the oven! On the bottoms, thermal long-johns, knit acrylic long-johns, and ski pants seem to do the trick. The face is probably the most vulnerable to frostbite, and my thin balaclava head-covering was essential. That, plus my pull-over neck warmer and ski hat. I also brought ski goggles, but they proved unnecessary. It was only like 10-below, after all.

That evening I went to an art opening in Willow Creek, about 40 miles west of Bozeman. Again, the place was packed; nobody was deterred by the weather. The thick icy rime that had built up on the inside of my windshield was more stubborn, however — all the way there and all the way back with the defroster blowing on high, and it still refused to melt to the edges.

Hardy Bozemanites proved their mettle again on Sunday, showing up in force (well, 50 or so, anyway) for the Martin Luther Kind Day march along Main Street. Ya just dress warm, is all. It's no biggie.



On Monday my friend Sam and I almost met our match. We went skiing at Bridger Bowl, and along with the cold we had to deal with 45-mile-per-hour winds. The skiing itself wasn't bad, but the chairlift rides were brutal... especially when they stopped for the wind, leaving us to be buffeted about 50 feet in the air.

We only took a couple of runs, and rewarded ourselves afterwards with a trip to Chico Hot Springs in Paradise Valley, along with an entourage that included Sam's wife Heather, their 5-year-old twins Ari and Olivia (shown), Heather's sister Mikelle (shown toasting with me below), and friend Suzie, who took the photos. Cold weather, hot water, tasty drinks... if this isn't living, I don't know what is.