Long weekend in the mountains

 Apologies for the late post today! I've been helping out with a little backcountry project and got back into town a little later than anticipated. The last few days spent out in the mountains have me pretty stoked on the snow situation here in the Kootenays, especially after returning to see such a promising forecast. Here's a peek at how I spent my long weekend... 

 Fly in, walk out. 


 Helicopter camping can be comfy.

 When we stepped out of the helicopter onto the lakeshore, we immediately sank past our knees into the snow. We unload the baskets and after the machine lifted into the air, we pushed our way through the deep snow and into the forest to the project site. I begin to regret not bringing snow pants, but there's no time to feel sorry for myself; We need to shovel the deck before the helicopter returns with the first load on the long line. 

 The next half hour is a scramble; we manage to get everything shoveled, retrieve the long line nets, and then get the former and the garbage from our last trip, back out to the staging area by the lake. As the helicopter leaves for the last time, the familiar silence of winter in the mountains takes over. We have work to do, but I can't help but feel relaxed.  

 Setting up camp under the deck.

 First things first, eat lunch, then set up camp. Once set up, we organize all the lumber and make a plan for construction the following day. We've been out to the site once before and our project is one that has us all stoked: we're building a ski-touring cabin. 

 Lots of work to do yet.

 The first night isn't too cold and the next day is productive.  Without boring you with the details, we accomplish everything that had been planned. As we take in the views of the surrounding moutains, we curse ourselves for not bringing out touring gear. That night another system moves in and reminds us of the temporary nature of our camp. The lack of walls means great views from the warmth of the sleeping bag, but I found myself in want for goggles as I peered out from the small opening in my mummy bag.