In the midst of winter’s rigor (wake, eat, ski, work, eat, sleep), a quick jaunt up to a backcountry hut can reset even the most frenzied of us. This is part of the allure of undertaking hutmaster duties for the Summit Huts Association (the escape ranks just above stirring other people’s poop). I do a handful of shifts each season, and try to spend the night whenever possible. Last week, after completing my chores, I only had time to duck into Ken’s Cabin for tea before returning the way I came, back down the mountain to civilization.
Photo by Devon O’Neil