Trekking is a void for questions without clear answers. Uncertainty tests me, highlighting the risk of each step into the unknown. The ridges of an open pathway mold into ungroomed terrain, and my skis softly crunch onto fresh snow. Refuge prevails in my connectedness to falling flakes of snow. Trust lives in the chatters of collapsing snow beneath the skis of my comrades, in the relentless wind that chills my fingertips and nose, in the bark eyes of paper birches that watch with deep concentration. Deceit hides in the glassy ice beneath a thin coating of snow. Life stays in color, of a purple vest, a blue hat, an orange backpack, color that is seeping, uncontrollably, from black and white. We are merely in the frame of a polaroid, and polaroids take time to develop.

As an ambitious freshman at the University of Vermont, I signed up for a club called Chicks on Sticks VT, an all-women coalition of skiers and riders. In 2018, the club created Power Through Powder, a fundraiser that accomplished the club’s missions of female outdoor leadership and advocacy for women’s rights. Its goal was to raise money for Planned Parenthood of Northern New England, an organization that promotes female reproductive health and sexual education through accessible centers in Vermont, New Hampshire, and Southern Maine. Profits are split—Chicks on Sticks got half and Planned Parenthood of Northern New England got the other half.

In December, I signed up to be a Power Through Power athlete and paid the small $35 fee to borrow UVM Outing Club touring equipment. The mechanism for raising money lays within donation pledges for club members completing weekly dawn patrols at Bolton Valley Resort in Bolton, Vermont. To perform a dawn patrol, athletes place skins, or sticky synthetic fibers, on the underside of a pair of skis and hike, or ‘skin,’ up snow-covered terrain—at 5:00 am.

It is Tuesday at 4:45 am, and the alarm Night Owl thwarts my peaceful slumber and propels my body, still asleep, towards the pile of clothes I meticulously arranged last night. My eyes refuse to open as I dress myself, seize my poles, and glance at the time, while a reactive negative thought criticizes the lateness of my bedtime. The slam of the door rattles the dull silence and I sheepishly escape down the hallway with my helmet, hastily buckled to my backpack, flopping from side to side.

Only partially reminding myself to avoid tripping on my untied, tattered boot laces, I walk quickly to the front entrance of the Patrick Gymnasium. I only realize I have already reached the corner of the gym when I breathe in the winter air for what feels like the first time. It reminds me of the almost claylike scent of a summer camp I attended as a child in Pittsford, Vermont, like one of the log cabins had been shaken upside down, its musty artifacts tumbling into the morning stars. I jog out of my daze to the red lights glowing on the three cars ahead, one that I now associate with the odd combination of peace and a breathless oh boy, here we go.

After a hazy thirty minute ride, we arrive at the Bolton Valley parking lot and will ourselves from the heated car interior and into our ski boots in -4 °F air. Grace, the leader of our Tuesday morning team, enthusiastically calls, “Eliza!” amidst a sequence of names and hands me my touring skis. “Thank you!” I hoist the skis onto my shoulder and walk side by side with Hannah and Sienna, joining the other athletes at the mountain base. We laugh as we commiserate about the temperature, deposit our skis on the ground, and snap our boots into the touring bindings. On a traditional alpine ski, a skier’s boot is placed into bindings that secure both toe and heel to the ski. The bindings on a touring ski are the same, but feature an additional setting that allows for the boot heel to become unsecured from the binding. This specific touring setup is critical for skinning: on the way up, the heel is freed to support a climbing movement; on the way down, the heel is fastened to the ski to support a smooth alpine ski glide.

“Anybody not ready?” In the silence that follows, our limbs begin to move up the gradual incline in unison. We march in a line like ants, twelve detailed dots parading on croaking snow. Bolton Valley has been open to the public for skiing since its opening in 1966, and features 71 trails of skiing terrain. A portion of the cut trails, centered in the Green Mountains, were planned under the forester Edward S. Bryant in 1922, and were later uncovered and added to by the DesLauriers family. In 2013, the Friends of Bolton Valley Nordic & Backcountry successfully urged the Vermont Land Trust to buy a whopping 1,161 acres of wilderness trails in jeopardy of a private purchase. Collectively, they raised $1.85 million and conserved the land for public access.

We have now completed the flatter portion of the course at a brisk pace, and one by one, we pause to strip off our layers. My fleece buff is wet from sweat, and as I shove it into my backpack I exhale and smile. I always feel more awake when I expose my warm neck to the cold air and my heartbeat is freed from the constraints on my chest. “How are you?” I ask Bea, who updates me on the logistics of her spring break backpacking trip. As I listen, I forget I am climbing another, steeper hill. I drift in and out of her words, and Hannah’s, and Siena’s, and Grace’s.

Sometimes, in nature, I only want to hear the whistle of the wind or the chirping of birds. But I strangely find peace as I hike at a steady rhythm and learn of their experiences. I can climb to their voices without rushing through the hike.

We have summited all but the last hill preceding the peak. We pause again, and I plant my poles and twist my torso backwards, a notably odd sensation while positioned on a harsh incline. In the sky beyond, shades of violet bloom, their tone not muffled, but rather softened, by the loosening scribbles of the snow-capped Green and Adirondack mountain ridges. Pink hues blossom above, mirroring our flushed, rosy cheeks.

I heed to the left side of the path and continue upwards in Hannah’s tracks. The rising gradient requires an adjustment of my earnest, wide strides into smaller steps. Again, nature immerses me into the vast pool of the present, requesting I slow down to safely perform my mission. Baby steps. The trees abruptly crowd to narrow the trail into a chute towards the summit. We disperse from our orderly train to mark the final tracks of our journeys alone. Three more steps. I can do this. Two more steps. Almost there. One more step. Here.

We grin, sigh of relief, cheer, and exchange high-fives as we remove the skins from our skis and rebundle in our layers. The sunrise tints to orange when I fasten my goggles and helmet, and I pose in photos for social media promotion of the fundraiser. Though we may be capturing the moment on film instead of fully ‘living in the moment,’ I do not mind. I jokingly hold my poles above my helmet like antennas and give a toothy smile with squinting eyes.

Maybe there is no right or wrong way to complete a dawn patrol. Reaching the 3,150 ft peak is rewarding, as are the satisfying turns on the swift ski down and the Sweet Simone’s breakfast sandwich afterwards. Outstanding, though, is the journey. I am fortunate to have unearthed a profound appreciation for a place, a purpose, and new friendships. Power Through Powder raised $16,516 for Chicks on Sticks VT and Planned Parenthood of Northern New England as of April 25th, 2019.

Chicks on Sticks VT is completing their 3rd annual Power Through Powder. This year they will have over 100 athletes participating, most of whom will be learning how to skin. Their goal is to raise over $20,000, splitting it 50/50 this year between Chicks on Sticks VT and Protect Our Winters. Chicks on Sticks VT has been using their funds from the past two years to create mentorship and guiding programs within the Burlington community. The mentorship programs enable and empower kids to experience and enjoy the outdoors in new ways. Power Through Powder allows Chicks on Sticks to continue their mission; promoting access to snow sports regardless of social, religious, or political background. If you would like to donate to their cause, please use this link.

Words by Eliza Filler

Environmental Studies major. Coffee lover who enjoys skiing and watching Portlandia with her cat, Cosmo. Fantasizes about Latin literature and the Roman Empire daily.

POWER THROUGH POWDER