02/14/2026
This year, ski mountaineering makes its way into the Olympics as an event for the first time. That’s enough to make me turn the TV on for a change—and to remind me of past trips.
Twenty-five years ago, a few of us skied 40 miles over six days from west to east across the highest alpine wilderness of California’s Sierra Nevada.
Free-heel skiing, telemark skiing, backcountry skiing, wilderness skiing, ski mountaineering—interchangeable terms that all describe some aspect of the same activity: going into the mountains self-contained, self-propelled, and self-reliant; navigating by map and compass; sleeping, eating, and traveling on snow. It’s one of the great loves of my life.
As Alps-centric as I am these days, the mountains of the western U.S. can’t be beat for huge, still-untainted tracts of wilderness, with zero people—especially under the winter/spring snowpack.
The Olympic ski-mo event will be fun to watch, but it will be a competitive spectacle writ large—very different from the way my fellow free-heelers and I practice it. You won’t get a sense of the distances, the solitude, the quiet, the epic, nature-ific scale of it all.
Back to that quarter-century-ago ski tour:
I shot this photo of my friend Doug Robinson during a lunch break a few days into the trip at 12,000 ft (3,700 meters); my skis with 3-pin bindings (I also used leather boots) are in the foreground. After eating, we took a few fun turns and then hoisted our packs onto our backs again to continue the long easterly traverse across the granite spine of the Sierra.
I carried a 1950s press camera with me that shoots 4×5 film. I took this photo with that camera, using beautifully fine-grained Panatomic-X film made by Kodak. With all that large-format muscle, it’s comical that you’re looking at it on a phone screen. The film, however, was quite expired: Kodak stopped manufacturing it in 1987, and I shot this in 2001. The high-altitude sun also managed to light-leak its way into my film holder, as you can see.
photo © Jim Herrington