30 summits for the 30th year

Last year, locally legendary Don "Rocky Mountain Outfitter" Scharfe wanted to celebrate his 60th birthday by summiting 60 mountains in one year. Well, he did, and then he got bored and summited 20 more before his December 31 deadline.

Eighty summits, one year, 60-year-old dude. Bad. Ass.

When I told Lindsay "Babe City" Hart about this astounding feat she suggested that, since I turn 30 this year, I should celebrate my 30th year by summiting 30 mountains. Okay, babe, with your blessing ...

Thirty summits doesn't seem like much, but then I think about how I "only" summited 17 (different) mountains last year. And how I'm a weekend warrior nine months out of the year. And how sometimes I pretend I'm a bike racer. And how I've never really relished in the art of peak-bagging. But, hey, I may as well make my 30th year that much more meaningful: Set a challenging, worthwhile goal and actually follow through.

I have set parameters for this goal: The summit can either be achieved on a hike or a ski tour; the summit has to be "ranked" (not necessarily named); I can only call it a summit if I summit the high point on the mountain (damn you, Snowshed Mountain); summits have to be achieved between January 1 and December 31, 2013.

Here we go ...

1) Big Mountain, Smokey Range, Montana. If I get 31 summits this year I will gladly scrub The Big. As of April 22, I've skinned to the top of Big Mountain 40 times this ski season. I summited 45 times last year. This should get boring, right? Still hasn't. Photo: Looking east into Glacier; 10 feet behind me is a ski lift and a cafeteria.

2) Mount Shields, Glacier National Park, Montana, January 5. For the record, locals, Lewis and I skied off the summit of Mount Shields, not Little Shields. Eighty-seven feet and a long ridge walk make all the difference. Photo: Lewis on the approach.

3) Stanton Mountain, Glacier National Park, Montana, January 19. We started our approach at around 5 a.m. from Lake McDonald Lodge. This was a great ski, 4,600 feet back to the car. Photo: Hebert and Koestler about to cut a cornice.

4) Peak 7108, Great Bear Wilderness, Montana, February 1. Peak 7108 is the high point on the west ridge above Marion Lake; while unnamed, it is ranked. Lewis, Carrie, John, and I faked sick (well, not John) and took the day to shred. It was worth it. Photo: I forgot my camera; this is actually a photo taken on 7108 in 2012.

5) Mount Furlong, Great Bear Wilderness, Montana, February 9. Some of the best skiing of the year. Photo: Pedalin' Pete took all the pictures this day ... meaning I'll probably never seen any of them. This is a photo from the summit of Furlong taken this past summer when I was up there with Lewis, Devin, and the dogs. This was the same aspect we skied.

6) Running Rabbit Mountain, Glacier National Park, Montana, March 9. Summit No. 1 of the day. This may be my new favorite spot to ski in the Middle Fork/Maria's Pass coridor. Charlie made us swear secrecy. Photo: Charlie and Elliott on the summit.

7) Snowslip Mountain, Glacier National Park, Montana, March 9. Summit No 2. Photo: Notice our tracks off Running Rabbit.

8) Elk Mountain, Glacier National Park, Montana, March 23. I soloed this one. When we skied this last year we had to boot the last 300 feet; thankfully, this time I was able to skin to the summit. Photo: It was -8 degrees at the trailhead at 7:30 a.m. I'm guessing it's around -15 in this photo. March 23, the third day of spring, is the coldest day of the year.

9) Haystack Mountain, La Sal Range, Utah, April 1. Spring break! It's interesting to note that while this is the highest peak I've ever summited, it was only a 2,000 ft. climb from the lot, less than Big Mountain. So what's bigger, a 4,500 ft. climb to a 8,500 ft. peak or a 2,000 ft. climb to an 11,700 ft. peak? Photo: Lewis and I a little disoriented at this altitude.

10) Pre-Laurel Peak, La Sal Range, Utah, April 5. Lewis and I agreed that we wanted to bag a 12,000 ft. peak in Utah; four days after Haystack we went back to the La Sals to try. Our intention was to ski Laurel Peak; once at the base we realized the approach would be long and dicey, the descent potentially dicey-er. We instead climbed Laurel Peak's baby brother, Pre-Laurel, 11,800 ft., about 350 lower than Laurel. Photo: My camera broke; Lewis' ran out of batteries. This is a shot from Haystack. Pre-Laurel Peak is peak to the far-right of the photo, Laurel is to its left.

11) Mount Spokane, Colville National Forest, Washington, April 20. I thought Lindsay and I were in for an easy 800 ft. climb at a ski "resort" closed for the season; turns out, we were in for a 1,700 ft. climb at a ski "resort" that was open for the day to host a wedding. And, even more surprising, there were three large "No Uphill Traffic" signs posted in the parking lot. Oops. We skirted the ski boundary through the woods, dogs in tow, and no one seemed to notice ... or care. Nice. Lindsay insisted we go back up for 400 bonus feet. Gosh, I love this babe. Photo: Me, Cody, and Otis (not pictured) on the summit.

12) Glacier View Mountain, Flathead National Forest, Montana, April 28. Glacier View is a small-ish, 6,200 ft. peak across the street from Glacier National Park; its totally burned east and south face make it the only peak snow-free and accesible on foot this early in the season. Cody and I went for it; there was a perfect boot pack the last 600 feet to the summit. Thanks, person! Photo: Not a very good view of Glacier from Glacier View.

13) Mount Aeneas, Jewel Basin, Swan Crest, Montana, May 4. Lindsay and I got on Aeneas last September; now it's got about 12 feet of snow on it. Photo: It was steep dropping into this notch. I got first tracks on the north face; it felt really damn good.

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Plans: I'm going to Utah for spring break, spending a large chunk of June in the Cascades, planning to ski off the summit of Mount Shasta in California the second week of June, spending a week in the Ruby Mountains in Nevada in July, and, like every year for the last eight years, I will try to make it to Two Medicine to climb Rising Wolf ...

P.D.A.

Gooski's rules: No P.D.A., no wagging of tongues while saddled-up to the bar. Punishment for your infraction: Being spit-balled and loudly heckled by the grossed-out, blacking-out bar flys. I've heard a couple or two has been shown the door by the bouncer for necking in the dark, cave-like booths that line the side wall. Me and some girl once got ketchup packets chucked at us and a stern warning from the bartender to cool it or take it home. Her head was resting on my shoulder. We sheepishly apologized, finished our drinks, and took it home.

But tonight I'm not at Gooski's, I'm not even in Pittsburgh. Tonight we're at some hip karaoke-sushi bar in SE, D.C. Tonight those rules don't apply.

Weirdos

I tell A. that I sleep in a sleeping bag, in bed, every night. "I've got one for every season: zero-, twenty-, and forty-degree; winter, spring and fall, summer."

She says it's weird. "Girls don’t like that," she says. "Don't do that."

I shrug my shoulders and tell her it's not weird, it keeps the gas bill low.

A. is forty-eight years old, divorced, has two kids, and is dating my pal B., who's thirty-one. Some might think that's weird.

In the last month the first girl whose boobs I touched got married, the girl I lost my virginity to got married, the girl I spent a majority of my senior year of college obsessing over got married, and my best friend from elementary school through high school had his second kid. I'm twenty-nine, I haven't been in a relationship that's lasted more a month in five years, I don't mind that my dog sleeps on the furniture, I haven't kissed a girl in six months, and I sleep in a sleeping bag every night.

I'm not the weirdo, you are.

"Small-town dating"

I don't remember what she said, what the context was or what it was in reference to, but I know one of the first things I said to her the first time we got coffee was, "Well, the great thing about living in a small town is that even when you don't know what you're doing, someone else does."

"Where'd you hear that?"

"It's on a plaque above the Palace cash register."

"Is it like that here?" She'd just moved to town from the city.

"Pretty much."

"Well, we'll see, I guess."

Excerpt from "The Wall"

... We'd sit there for hours, our asses on the ledge, our legs dangling above the sidewalk below. We had two games we liked to play. One was acorns. We'd collect acorns and throw them into the busy three-lane, one-way street. First one that gets run over, the thrower gets a point. Play to 10. The other game was "What's up?" Any girl that walks by, you ask, "What's up?" If she keeps walking, no points. If she says what's up back, one point. If she stops to talk, two points. No one ever got to 10 points. One incredibly cold night, Champagne and I rode our bikes around the city scavenging Dumpsters for treasure. In the Trader Joe's Dumpster we scored bouquets of half-dead flowers and stuffed our bags with two bouquets each. We rode to The Wall and tried to give them to college girls as they walked by. It was a tough sale. Not only was it cold, it was between fall and spring semester, the university was dead, everyone was gone. We sat and sipped whiskey from my flask to stay warm, but I was wearing Converse, my feet were frozen. Champagne said, "What's up?" to two girls that walked past. They stopped to talk. We gave them a bouquet each. We talked with them for awhile until I dumbly mentioned something about a girl Champagne had recently hooked-up with. Then they left, saying they had to go back to their dorm, it was too cold to stand around. To this day, Champagne contends that he would have got that girl's number had I not blown if for him. "They would have invited us back to their dorm!" I still feel a little bad about it. Well, I told him, at least we still have one bouquet each ...

"The Great Thing About ..."

"The Great Thing About Living in a Small Town," a 'zine, issues No. 1 and 2, "Then and Now," forthcoming ... seriously. Excerpts coming soon ...

Last, best

... It occurred to me the other day that, while this Montana thing is probably my end-all-be-all, you've been to India and New Zealand and the Upper Peninsula. It's only the "end" of my road, just another of your One of the Best Places. ...