While the majority of the University of Rhode Island community just has to jump in their cars to travel home over winter break, either driving back through Rhode Island, maybe crossing a state line or two, my process is a little more involved. Another way to put it is that the only transportation method I don’t use to get home is a boat. A car, a train, a bus, a plane, another plane, another car and then I finally make it back to Seattle, Washington.
Out here I have been guilted that I make my hometown my entire personality, and there may be some truth to that. But if you were from one of the most naturally beautiful spots in the country, trust me, you would too.
I’ll be honest, I didn’t actually spend much time in Seattle this winter. While my childhood home may be located a quick jaunt from the University of Washington, I spent most of my break in a little cabin three hours north with a massive dog, lots of snow and even better company. One of the best parts about being from Seattle isn’t the city at all, but the access to some of the best mountains on the West Coast, of which I’m lucky enough to make my extended backyard. I guess you could say the best thing to do in my hometown over winter break is leave as quickly as possible and get yourself to the mountains.
Ever since evil incarnate – Vail Resorts – bought the mountain I grew up at, my friends and I have had to get creative about how to get into the mountains, without selling a kidney or our soul to the resorts. That means either strapping your skis to your back, or putting them in uphill mode and putting some serious knee grease into hauling yourself up the slope.
However, going into the backcountry comes with an inherent danger and a willingness to be at the mercy of the elements, which led my best friend and I to take an avalanche safety course this winter. We spent three days in the Mt. Baker backcountry, digging snow pits, eating cold sandwiches and learning what happens when your body is crushed by thousands of pounds of snow – everyone’s idea of a good time.
In backcountry skiing you are constantly assessing your surroundings, our guide Max explained to us, you are constantly trying to figure out how badly the mountain wants to kill you. An important distinction to remember: it’s never if the mountain wants to kill you, because it always could. It makes you feel small in a way nothing else can.
A funny thing happens when you are sitting on your backpack in the mountains with no cell service and hours away from the closest hospital; you stop thinking about the outside world. You stop thinking about the email you had to respond to, the credit card bill you have to pay, none of that is real anymore. The only thing that matters is that you are wearing enough clothes, have enough water and like the people you are doing it with.
So, if you feel absolutely overwhelmed with the start of school, like me, maybe just disappear into the mountains for a little bit. Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done in Rhode Island.