We got enough moisture this week to freshen the snowpack. I went to the summit at Avintaquin and found a good place to pull off the highway. The map said that I was on the road to Trail Ridge, but the farther I skied, the less certain I was about the road, the ridge, or my location. Not that it mattered: The forest was Douglas fir and limber pine, and the snow was pristine.
I reached a summit at 9,100 feet, dropped into a small bowl, and continued along the ridge for another mile. At that point, though it was neither dark nor dangerous, I felt tired from breaking trail, so I turned around and retraced my track. When I reached GC2 at 5:30p, I had been out for about two and a half hours and had covered four miles. The Trail Ridge Tour.
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