Winter Will Return, Like It Always Does.

Winter Will Return, Like It Always Does.

Words & Photography by Jackson Long

November / thirst

The dry, hot summer has left me parched for a new ski season, for that first sip of cold, frozen water. We’re standing on the open summit of what’s known as “The Peanut,” a small peak above a backcountry yurt nestled in the meadow below. In front of us is the Hyndman Basin, surrounded by a cirque where the peaks of Hyndman, Old Hyndman, and Cobb wrap around the sky like a throne room. These are the Pioneer Mountains, which were formed more than 2 billion years ago by metamorphic layers of rock carved and sculpted during the last ice age.

These peaks are more than just a place to exercise. They’re a dojo for developing my skills and fitness as a mountain athlete, as well as a studio in which the more time I spend, the more I feel creative expression rising to the surface. Nearly a decade prior, I watched a total solar eclipse envelop this basin in darkness in the middle of a summer day from the summit of Hyndman. The landscape has remained unchanged since then, a contrast to how much I’ve grown as an athlete and as a human.

We rip the skins from the bottom of our skis. The snow is thin over the top of the slope of sagebrush and rock, but we don’t mind. The feeling of gliding through snow — even just a handful of turns, with the peaks in the foreground — quenches our thirst.

December / familiarity

I follow Tucker on the ascent, our skin-track cutting back and forth across the ridge-line. 

The deep, overwhelming blue sky contrasts against the rime-covered trees that dot the open bowl of Durance Peak, just a handful of minutes north of Ketchum, Idaho. It’s a well-loved backcountry ski run, and we often ski it before work as our headlamps guide the familiar trek to the summit. We’re headed north, towards the far ridge and into a sheltered aspect with better snow and excellent tree skiing. The recent storm has deposited a fresh blanket of deep powder, and the wind has painted a coat of snow on the trees…

This story appears in Revelry Collection / Volume 003. Coming out in November 2026.

Continue the story by becoming a Revelry Collection member.

 

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