#EBRIGHT AS SNOW?!?!

[fictional-at-heart]

So, as the HUGE Hunger Games fan I am, I was thinking about the boys recently, and then I was wondering. IF I ever did a Hunger Games AU (don’t get your hopes up! I don’t have the time, patience, commitment, OR creativity to ever put this in motion lol), I was wondering: what districts would the boys be from? District 4 obviously makes sense, no doubt about it, but it’s so… obvious. So this is what I’ve come up with based on the boys’ actual occupations!

Bobby: Capitol. But GOOD Capitol, like Cinna!! He was a lawyer, and lawyers scream Capitol to me. (Plus, head of the boat? Head of the districts? It works, okay??)

Don: District 12- mining. West Coast Mining Association President?? Hello!!

Joe: District 6- transportation. Going into chemical engineering and working at Boeing, it just feels right.

Shorty: District 6- transportation. Okay so I don’t have an explanation on this one, but it just feels right

Jim: District 10- livestock. He grew up on a dairy farm, so perfect.

John: District 2- masonry. He worked in the steel industry, and masonry was the closest I could get!

Gordy: District 6- transportation. Mechanical engineering! Plus he and Joe both worked at Boeing, so it makes sense that they’re from the same district!

Chuck: District 2- masonry. Yeah, so this one doesn’t get an explanation either. It just makes sense to me😂

Roger: District 6- transportation. Mechanical engineering again! Look at that. Four boys from the same district!

Ulbrickson: District 12- mining. He just screams District 12 mentor to me!

[thelastchair]

The Devil’s Keep

(Written by Isaac Walden - February 23, 2018)

The draw of the Seven Devil Mountains in Idaho is obvious.  They can be seen from almost any high point in eastern Idaho and are made of foreboding dark rock; rising into castle like towers from the river bend sandwiched between “The River of No Return” and “Hells Canyon.”  A quick look at the topographic map of the area stimulates the wondering mind with menacing names like, The Ogre, Devils Tooth and The Devils Throne.  Furthermore, there’s almost no internet information and to an adventurous soul, there might as well have been a bright neon flashing sign that says, “Open” or “Free Beer.”

The plan was simple, snowmobile to the wilderness boundary and setup camp.  From camp, skin and explore the unknown.

We wound our way up a single lane dirt road which seemed bound to the canyon bottom as if it tried to climb the walls at one time but only fell back to the lowest portion, too tired to climb again.  Only terraced game trails on the grassy walls could escape the canyon’s bottom into the higher forested zones.  We continued upwards until our trucks could not make it any further, blocked by snow of a shady north facing bend in the subdued road.  It was time to unload the snowmobiles and see if we could proceed.  The snowmobile tracks in the road gave us hope that it was possible, later we would find out that the tracks were trappers.

The snow was short lived.  A little over a mile of dirt road stood between us and our objective.  The dirt would no doubt shred the bottom of the plastic tubs we would use to haul camp to the alpine.  Undaunted we pushed on.  The grassy slopes of the canyon bottom gave way to the timbered hill sides that casted shadows onto the road, keeping a steadily increasing snow pack.  After a long stretch of easy going, the old snowmobile tracks disappeared and the side hills started.  Now, at every turn, the road, the success, seemed like a fools journey - discouragement set in.  It would not be the last.   We found a route that would abandon the road and follow an old fire scar on the ridge.  Winding through the blackened skeleton of a forest we pulled on to a high point of the ridge, where we gained our first glimpse of the dark fingers of the Seven Devil massif, stretching skyward as if trying to tickle the armpits of the clouds.

It was time to “Shit or get off the pot.”  We opted to commit.  After a few failed ideas to get the plastic tubs over the mile of dirt were quickly abandoned for the more popular “wooden pontoon” stunt.  With dust flying and the smell of an overheating snowmobile the plastic tubs were moved past the mile-long dirt road.  A quick shovel got us past the side hills and onto the ridge. We now had the soon to be ‘camp’ in the bag.

Half of us would stay and put up the tent while the other half would continue the gear shuttle.  A rain storm soon began and nightfall was imminent.  Both parties where equally screwed - the half at camp struggled to make sense of the unfamiliar tent in the quickly darkening sky.  Wet, with fingers that struggled to work, the two yelled at each other trying to decipher the DIY color coding on the tent poles under the aggressive glow of LED head lamps that turned all color into a bright white.  As if from a modern Jack London novel, the need for a shelter and a fire was real.   For the three that set out to shuttle food and supplies, it was no easier.  Darkness and heavy trailer tubs would put the snowmobiles off track in critical sections and desperate hill climbs were made with blind luck, (sometimes) a lot of shoveling and a little hope.  Missions complete and soaking wet, each group was relieved to see the other.  

The shelter was now up and all parties and supplies at camp.

Morning greeted us with blue skies and warm weather.  We decided to crack the code to the Seven Devils by making the ridge over Mirror Lake and skiing to the lake.  The skin track to the ridge was difficult, through a steep but short gap in the rock band was the only way. To gain the lake was no easier, we traveled south along the ridge and west of the lake above cliffs.  The snow now on a different aspect had changed.  The rain and warm weather of the day had left us with a wet unconsolidated snowpack and the fear of becoming part of our own false stepped wet slide was real.  We turned back and decided to explore other options.

Having a better nights rest and colder weather the new dawn promised to be a better day than the day before.  We gained the lake with little problems and made it to a glacier basin below Tower of Babel, where two prominent couloirs immediately commanded our attention.  They were just what we had hoped for and speculated that could reside in the Seven Devils.  We split again and skied each of them.  The art boot packing is mundane suffering: landscape changes little and the mechanical advantage of gliding with skins is a forgotten luxury. You settle into a rhythm of kick, breath, kick, breath.  There is also a direct proportion between suffering and quality of skiing.  The hardier the boot pack, the better the skiing.  Thank god, the boot pack was easy. We skied down the couloirs in less than glorious snow but more than anticipated aesthetic.  A sigh of relief was due after all the effort, it was not a fools journey.  

Let see what else we can get into.

We had even better weather the last day.  We skinned beyond the Tower of Babel through its west saddle and skied down into the next lake basin containing the He Devil and the She Devil.  The north face of He Devil seemed like a beacon of light and we were in the mouth.  We charged up the lake basin egged on by our newly discovered muse.  At the toe of the He Devil the south face of the She Devil came into view.  She had a hidden couloir and it was like the serpent and the He Devil was the apple.  Once again we would split up into teams.  I chose the south face of She Devil. Settling into the kick, breath rhythm aiming for the thin ribbon of She Devil.  Mike Cullen cruised up to the crux of our line with little effort.  There he paused.  The ribbon had narrowed and the snow once thick and bottomless now turned unsupportable.  Boots penetrated straight to the slick slightly covered rocks.  We spotted a cave on right hand side of the couloir and ducked in.  With a little shoveling we made the cave big enough for both of use to put our skis on.

The Radio crackled to life “We’ve made it as far as we are going to go” I said.  

We were to go first. I skied out of the cave and into the couloir, it was steeper and longer than it looked from the bottom.  The first turn was soft but supportable, the snow held the edge of the ski in such a way you could feel the skis construction in its entirety. Camber, side cut, length and flex pattern all seemed to fit the slope like a well-honed machine.  The slope was steep, that simple act of leaning downhill would send the skier into the next turn with a brief moment of enraptured flight.  It did not change the whole way down, each turn like the last.  I turned to watched Mike in what can only be described as shredding.  A moment of ceremonial high-fives and jovial yelling ensued.  We now turned our attention to the other members of our party now perched on top of the line that had originally drawn our attention to the basin.  Dustin Hollingsworth was next.  Stepping off the ridge and committing to the slope it was obvious the way in which he was going to ski the He Devil.  With snow trailing in a contrail resembling a comet over a skier, Dustin made quick work of descent as if he was late for Tinder date with Helen of Troy or Madonna.  Devin Ebright was last.  Again, we did not have to wait long at the bottom for a play by play of the descent.  We all shared note of how our lines played out in full enthrall of the place on earth we were at that moment.

We grabbed a quick bite and decided to gain the next Col between the two spellbinding lines.  The desire to quench the thirst of curiosity is addictive.  

“Hey, Check this out.”

As I had tried to step into my bindings they had snapped in two.  The Seven Devils had left me crippled in the farthest place we had ventured.  Of course, it’s the farthest place, there’s little need to turn around when things are going your way.  The plan was scrubbed to go on and a unanimous decision to head for camp was made.  The others would go on ahead and when they made the ridge a set of skis that I could step into would come back so I could skin.  I started the ever so familiar cadence of kick, breath, kick, breath.