WOLF CREEK PASS — “Cabin fever” probably isn’t the proper term, given the presolstice proximity of the season. Still, its existence is undeniable.
It kicked in sometime around Black Friday, shortly after the bland Thanksgiving football buffet that culminated in Denver’s personal parade over Eli Manning and the Macy’s gang Thursday night. Those of us less inclined to spend our free time at the mall, or in front of the television, began to feel that old familiar itch, or twitch, as the side dishes turned stale and the fever took hold.
Although I have yet to settle on a name for the sensation growing inside of me, I recognize the symptoms. Specifically, it’s an anxiety- inducing lack of snow magnified by the pre-Christmas hype of a season that refuses to be rushed.
Typically, cabin fever is quite the opposite, attributed to the restlessness that ensues from those endless winters of plenty. That condition, however, has a cure. It’s called skiing.
This one is trickier. Most of the high peaks surrounding my home are covered in just enough snow to prevent you from enjoying them. There isn’t enough to actually ride, but a bit too much to do much of anything else.
Problem is, after a consecutive series of early winters resulting in some stellar snow-based recreation around these parts, I’ve grown accustomed to a hearty feast. Subsequently, this little pill is tough to swallow.
After 20 years of dedicated Colorado skiing and snowboarding, I can admit without shame some amount of snow snobbery. I understand how spoiled I’ve become and how absurd it is to complain about skiing conditions on Dec. 1.
Which is why I want to make it clear that I’m not complaining. I’m jonesing. Big difference.
What I’m feeling is more akin to withdrawal from an addiction, that whole “cabin fever turned inside out” thing. I could take it a step further and blame the little winter weather baby known as El Niño for turning me into a junkie as it develops inside of me.
But whether you tend to believe in El Niño as God’s gift to skiing or dismiss the unreliable weather phenomenon as El None-yo, patience and appreciation are the only remedies for this particular pre-Christmas affliction.
With patience, snow will come to break the fever statewide. With appreciation, we recognize places such as little old Wolf Creek Ski Area that can satisfy the yearn for early turns.
Here in Colorado, we can afford to pick and choose when it comes to snow. With more than 25 lift- served ski areas and countless backcountry options, it takes only a little initiative and a tank of gas to find real skiing on real snow somewhere reasonably close.
That reality kicked in sometime over Thanksgiving weekend as the notion of sitting through another football game or sharing the so- called “white ribbon of death” with holiday masses along the Interstate 70 corridor proved too much to take. I phoned some friends, threw the boards in back of the truck and headed south to the state’s snowiest ski area.
Evidently, I have an insatiable wanderlust fueling my love of skiing. And that makes sense, given that the sport originated as a convenient mode of travel in snow-covered societies. So I suppose it could be that the opposite holds true, that skiing fuels an insatiable wanderlust. Perhaps that explains this mysterious cabin fever sensation.
It isn’t cabin fever at all. It’s a wolf at the door. And he’s hungry for winter.
