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w w w. d i s t i n c t l y m o n t a n a . c o m
This winter started out with little snowpack, so Carlos sat
in the garage, waiting. January came along and with it beau-
tiful snow that I needed. With a new expedition harness and
upgraded poles, I felt confident. I weighted the pulk well this
time, heaviest in the middle and everything else around it. But
even on a beautifully packed trail, I felt the old familiar growing
pains. My patience wore thin as I had to continuously fix the
poles that attach the pulk—there are certain patterns you use,
from crossing the poles to keeping them straight. We hit deep
powder numerous times, Carlos pitched sideways immediately
each time, and I repacked and readjusted again. And again.
Over time, something shifted. It isn't always skis—often I mix
it up to save my feet from ski boots and use snowshoes, switch-
ing between the two. I learned to anticipate when I needed to
balance the pulk over areas that were too deep, had snowdrifts
or grooves from snowmobiles. I started listening more, and we
found our rhythm.
This new way of traveling extended my time in the backcoun-
try. I could bring a tent and stay longer with more comfort—
heavier sleeping bags, food, fuel, and water. I had a system
down for carrying my camera equipment to document the time
spent out here. Days would pass without seeing another soul.
You learn to read the snowpack like your life depends on it, be-
cause it does.
The weather taught me its own lessons—colder days meant
faster travel with less drag on the pulk. Wildlife tracks became
more plentiful the further I ventured into the backcountry.
Moose tracks through the willows had me talking to myself,
hoping I wouldn't see them up close and personal. Some days
