It’s early—a paddle toward Mt. Moran. Photo: Aidan Whitelaw
Heat. It’s been on our minds, elevating the core temps. Today’s high in Bend is 94°. Tomorrow 99°. But it’s a dry heat.
I did have a few hints of optimism this week. The days are getting shorter. Waking between 4a and 5a each morning, I noticed for the first time on Wednesday, weeks after the summer solstice, the Sun rising just a bit later. The birds, who I swear detect the Sun’s first photon to zip over the horizon each morning—around 4:05-ish—sing just a little later, too.
Hell or high water, winter comes. It’s just that right now, with all this heat, there’s a lot of hell around. This, too, shall pass.
I also know winter comes by spying less celestial and earthly seasonal indicators in my newsfeed and inbox. Behold, sneak peeks, and 2025 ski previews. I’ll admit, I did as the editors expected: I clicked the bait and took the peek. Depriving myself of the sneak-peek-induced Dopamine wash is so hard.
I’m not seeking much new gear, if any. The quiver is fully formed. I’ll get one more season out of my beloved Dynafit Blacklights as my 1kg slipper. Yet, I’ll be hitting a ski shop not near me in the fall to survey the full spectrum of 2+ buckle boots. My definition of a near-perfect 2+ to 4 buckle touring boot remains elusive. I don’t need any peek or preview to know that Tecnica, Atomic, Dynafit, and Fischer (am I missing any?) have my attention.
As the rush and ephemeral satisfaction of the bait clicking wanes, I check myself. Which means I reread Dan Kennedy’s masterpiece “WE INVENT BULLSHIT WORDS TO GET YOU TO BUY ALL-NEW OUTDOOR EQUIPMENT.”
Kennedy’s musings ring true. I should know, down in the basement somewhere, I’m certain I’ve stashed the unicorn piece of gear from 2005, but also from 2006, and maybe 2007, that possess the attributes Kennedy describes: “All mountain. One tool. Total ocean technology but also for freshwater. For climbing but also not for climbing, and also for running and totally not for running.”
Upon reading Kennedy’s words initially last August, I emailed a thank you note. I explained that I was about to launch The High Route, where we would be doing gear reviews. I qualified it by writing, “I guess the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem and are part of the problem.”
He responded with his own thank you for thanking him, writing, “I think there’s nothing wrong with promoting gear and loving nature. We’ve all bought so much stuff over the years and skied a lot, fished a lot, hiked, biked, all of it — and I feel like we all get out there and at least do our best to put something back into the environment or pack a few pieces of trash out. So you and I are likely less of a problem than, say, a train derailment next to a tributary or factories or… I say you and I should feel GuiltFree® and just Hump Heaven and Never Come Down®”
Humping Heaven and Never Coming Down® seems like a lot of effort. And never is a long, long time. It is all aspirational, though.
Here’s where I’m going. Take a gear peek. But also assess your gear needs for next season far from this heat, and sooner than you’d think. By September, the algorithms will have combed through the marketing jargon, and we’ll be way beyond the previews and peeks—the battle of the “best of” lists will be in full swing.
