Grand Targhee 2013 / My Wintery Romeo

I feel I should recap Targhee 2013 in an ode...as it is, I am not talented nor educated enough to do so. Enjoy this post.

Targhee 2012

What can I say? Some feelings are so strong you can't do them justice through words. But... I'm going to try to convey some of what I feel for this magical, otherworldly, and alluring place in words; if you can comprehend even 25% of my feelings for Targhee, then I have done well. Or you have done well. Or we have both done well... Teamwork!

Not many lifts (only four) but lots of snow... I have long held the belief that Grand Targhee is underrated. To me, Targhee is perfection: the snow is always light, pure, and plentiful, and lines? Lines are unheard of! The cold is refreshing, and when the sun comes out, it's enough to make me cry because I feel so alive and so happy. My talk is cheap, but well, adoration is the thing that really showcases that. I was skiing by myself for the last couple of runs on the second day, Tuesday, when I heard the call of a very grateful skier/boarder: "Thank you Jesus! Thank you!" In light of the day I had experienced, I couldn't agree more. During the following run, I was halfway down the mountain when I burst into laughter; with Brandi Carlile playing, the snow cushioning my every turn and floating up around my waist, the wind singing in my ears, the Sacajawea cliffs across from me, and knowing there were so many happy people on the mountain, I couldn't help it; Targhee is shamanistic.

Sometimes the sky's blue, but more often the quiet grey sky reigns. I love the pines, too.

But backing up...to several different days... As long as I can remember, my Targhee mornings have been spent on the Blackfoot lift. It's the leftmost lift at Grand Targhee, an old lift that seats in twos, and I love it, not just because of the lift itself - which I find enchanting - but because of the terrain it gives access to. Lost Warrior at 9am after a big storm? Absolutely nothing like it in the entire world, pole to pole and back again, just for good measure. I'm not sure why I started beginning my ski days on Blackfoot, but the choice has never let me down, so I keep drifting back for more. The miraculous thing is that you can go back for a last couple of runs in the afternoon and if you stay close to the boundary, you can find powder that has somehow, somehow remained untouched.

After lunch I usually ski on Dreamcatcher and Sacajawea for the rest of the day. Lightning Trees, anyone? Sac has a prime line of cliffs that have a height for everyone and that are beautiful from any angle; I've had the pleasure of jumping off of them many a time and falling off a few times as well.

This year was even more special because my Grandma and Grandpa Asay came with us. Skiing and talking with them was incredibly enjoyable and I only wish that they had come with us before, especially because they inspired our Targhee tradition with their own. I enjoyed getting a refresher on pitch, a card game and a family tradition that is taken very seriously, with my grandparents and my mom. Despite the fact that I had only played twice before and that that was three years ago, I played pretty well; Grandpa and I won *fist bump* and we didn't cheat; now to become a real Asay...

Dinner at Teton Thai; Isaac and I were there, I promise.

I met an older man on the lift Tuesday and we talked about a lot of things, but one thing I mentioned is that it was originally my grandparents who came up to Grand Targhee every year with their own family. Part of his response was, "This place gets in your blood!" The wizened local later added, "I bet you'll be coming here every year 30 years from now." Gosh, I hope that no matter where I live 30 years from now that I will return to Targhee every year! I've got Wyoming blood in me, for heaven sakes; where would I rather be every January?

I could go on forever about Targhee, about how Tuesday was a Magnetic Fields-dominated day, with guest appearances from Paul Simon among others, while Monday was a more even mix; surely Teton Thai, Tony's and the ski videos they play there, the frosted trees on the slopes, the muffins my mom bakes for the trip, the seemingly endless stretch of pine forest behind the Sioux lodge, Shannon (the ski instructor that Lily didn't like), ski bums, King Arthur, and the Murphy bed would all be mentioned and discussed with a measure of depth that would hover between an "unbearably long explanation" and "too short to truly explain anything". But this is more than enough for any soul to read... Yeah.

So go ski! Or rather, go enjoy nature; it's lovely, refreshing, and it's all around, so you won't have to look very hard. I'd put in another word for Targhee, but I guess I'm hoping to selfishly guard his secrets from everyone but myself. I'm a jealous skier, what can I say?

Your bonny by-standing blogger,
Scout

     

      Targhee 2013, to be followed by Targhee 2014