Give Monogamy a Chance

The author and Matthew Sumner looking down the Red Line to see if an arcing couloir goes. It did not, but we learned that later. Photo: Matt Skorina

My girlfriend’s third cousin Matthew moved in with us in Salt Lake last winter after several years in the San Juans. He and I were friendly beforehand and had toured together a handful of days, but not much. After years of seasonal weekend and holiday work, my schedule was flipping to a more traditional weekend warrior model, meaning many of my friends would be working my days off. How rude. I would need to find a few new friends to ski with. 

Last winter, Matthew lived in a carpeted, windowless garage abutting our kitchen. Initially, I worried this arrangement would be noisy for him and bothersome for my clonking around the kitchen.


Another evening of neighborhood couloir skiing. No traffic. Photo: Dillon Spencer
Another evening of neighborhood couloir skiing. No traffic. Photo: Dillon Spencer


I quickly realized that being able to ask him to ski while eating Cheerios was worth the bother. Disturbing him proved difficult, too, as his computer-based job often required less time per week from him than most folks spend cooking, so there was little work to interrupt. The upshots were we skied and we skied and we skied, and Matthew got a great performance review this year.

Consistent touring partners are a fickle beast. Good ones—the sort you build a “partnership” with—require the confluence of several factors. It’s like dating, but maybe even harder. It’s a very Goldilocks sort of quest.

My dream partner must be fun to be around all day, safe (obviously, but not too safe either), mountain capable up and down, motivated to get out (on bigger objectives far from the road), dependable (to me, but not their employers, friends or spouses), available very regularly (with simple, flexible logistics), willing to enjoy bad snow and bushwhacking adventures, and, perhaps most critically, amenable to my many bad ideas. And, just like dating, ships can pass in the night if the circumstances aren’t quite right. 

Basically, I am looking for a psyched, unemployed single person with no pets or other partners who live close by and will succumb to peer pressure. Ideally, they don’t mind bad snow, blisters, or uncertainty. Am I asking too much? You bet, but there’s no harm in looking for a Prince Charming. 

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