City lights reflect off low clouds, silhouetting the canyon walls.
We buckle boots, attach our climbing skins
As we click into our bindings, clouds part, stars appear.
Climbing we fall into a rhythm;
Swish, swoosh, swish, swoosh
Alone with our thoughts in the halo of our headlamp,
Swish, swoosh, swish, swoosh.
At Elbow Fork we stop
Remove our skis, pack our skins,
Click back into our bindings,
Look up to the stars above.
Breathe deep in the silent night, push off
and glide for home.