While the powder junkies get the chance to prove their mettle in the world’s greatest games, other outdoor athletes are forces to prove themselves in smaller, less prestigious contests.

Rock climbers, for example, have long been shoved to the fringe of the athletic community, occupying a space somewhere between indoor soccer and in-line skating. Climbers can find something like a global contest each summer at the Teva Mountain Games, but Daniel Woods still can’t boast Olympic Gold.

All that might change in a decade, however. The International Olympic Committee has officially recognized the International Federation of Sport Climbing, bringing climbing one step closer to the Olympic games. 

The decision to accept climbing as a new olympic sport will be made in 2013, when the sports for the 2020 games will be selected.

The policy change is the newest trophy above the mantle of the NRA, who argued, along with scores of gun-loving outdoorsmen, that guns were needed in the wilderness to protect travelers from wild animals and wild men alike. Opponents of the change claim that guns reduce the safety of both man and beast in the country’s national parks.

As someone who regularly makes use of our nation’s preserved areas, I find myself siding with the latter camp. While it is true that people are sometimes attacked by bears or mountain lions in America’s wilderness, these attacks are almost always preventable. Hikers are trained to make noise while hiking to avoid provoking animals, and should know some basic skills for dealing with the creatures if contact is made. In my own experience, bears are not aggressive creatures, and will run away from or simply ignore hikers if approached in the right way.

Guns create a sense of false confidence that all too often results in unnecessary deaths. Inexperienced travelers often panic at the mere sight of a bear, and considering the level of experience many visitors to our national parks have, it’s easy to imagine that dozens of bears will be needlessly shot out of little more than fear.

As for hikers defending themselves from each other, I can only assume that gun advocates have watched Deliverance one too many times.

One good thing can come from this shameless display of masculine posturing, however. If NRA members insist on playing mountain man with every visit to our nation’s wild places, the NPS can make a tidy profit selling coonskin caps and novelty belt buckles at the gift store.

An ice climber sets a route at the Ouray Ice Park

Editor’s Note: Due to motivational difficulties, the posts from the Ouray Ice Festival are being posted several days late.

In the world of outdoor living, few things go according to plan. When we load the car, raft or backpack for our next adventure we can never be sure whether we’ll come back with stomachs filled with wild berries or stories of self-amputations. Ultimately, when we leave the comfort of our homes or apartments, we gamble with our happiness. All too often we know that, in this game, success is defined not as any great reward but as a tolerable level of misery.

I know this. We all know this. But, of course, very few of us have the forethought or understanding to see anything but the sunniest skies ahead of us when we plan our next big trip.

When the idea of traveling to the 15^th annual Ouray Ice Festival first stuck in my head, it brought along no images of cold, pain or snow. Months before the festival, lounging in summer sun, my mind’s eye was filled with images of a trim, tanned climber navigating the ice slopes with ease. After battling the elements (to the amazement of cheering throngs of amateurs) and watching the sun set behind the San Juan Mountains, our striking protagonist would find himself soaking his muscles in the ancient Ouray Hot Springs accompanied by two or three beautiful women of the “Switzerland of America”.

As a trip that seemed months off quickly became days away, and each of my original climbing partners had dropped out for reasons of varying legitimacy, the trip seemed destined to be left as spare parts – a leftover idea for another, more profitable year. Not three days before the festival began, however, the pieces began to come together seemingly effortlessly. Before I could register what had happened, I found myself huddled beneath the blankets of an underheated Ouray motel, staring across a pot of rice and pintos at a climbing partner whose chewing was audible from across the room.

Our wallets were empty, our car running on fumes, and neither of us had come armed with the knowledge or experience I’d imagined. Still, trying to glean whatever knowledge I could from a tattered copy of The Freedom of the Hills and sipping a lukewarm Winter Warlock (some things defy compromise), it was hard not to feel at peace. It was impossible to say whether the coming days would leave us feeling like iron-chinned mountain men or pasty suburban wimps, but we hoped for the best.

As ugly as this thing is, this is an unfortunate reality about outdoor sports coverage – like it or not, we live and die on the whims of advertisers, some of which have a lot of weight to throw around.

If you’ve driven deep into the Poudre Canyon, whether for hiking, climbing, paddling or plain old-fashioned sightseeing, you’ve likely passed a single, unassuming sign for the Shambala Mountain Center – the Buddhist temple nestled in our beloved Northern Colorado mountains.

If you’re like me, you’ve been too distracted by the promise of landing a rainbow trout or finally sending that boulder problem to spend the day seeking spiritual wisdom.

Faced with heavy snow Saturday, we abandoned our plans to climb on the canyon’s 420 boulders, packed a dirtbag lunch of pancakes and bananas and set off on our own quest for enlightenment.

The center itself rests at the top of a steep, winding dirt road reminiscent of the rocky paths leading to the gurus of old comics. Whatever mystique was granted to the approach by the rough road and dizzying drops to the side, however, was lost when we reached the center’s gravel parking lot.

Packed with cars (a disproportionate number of which were Subarus) sporting “Hike Naked” and “Envision Whirled Peas” bumper stickers, the lot seemed to belong more to a farmers’ market or Corepower Yoga center than to a temple of ultimate enlightenment. Needless to say, I was skeptical.

It’s here that I should clarify that I know very little at all about Buddhism or even spirituality in general. Other than a short, marijuana-fueled love affair with the Tao Te Ching, my education on all things relating to eastern spirituality has centered around  fortune cookies and kung-fu movies.

My initial disappointment with the Shambala Mountain Center, then, was less like a literature professor’s disdain for Dan Brown and more like a monster truck enthusiast’s discomfort at a performance of “No Exit”.

As we hiked the snowy trail to the Stupa itself my discontent continued to fester. Where were the spinning prayer wheels I’d seen in all those climbing videos from the Himalaya? Where were the long haired, wild-eyed wise men? All the sights the trail offered at first were cheap buildings, rented trailers and a gift store and bookshop.

I was all but ready to turn around and spit when we reached the Stupa. Some five or six stories tall, the temple is brightly painted and decorated with countless gold lead covered statues, the building –– the Great Stupa of Dharmakaya ­­–– more than lived up to even the most outlandish of my expectations.

In accord with what we were told is a Buddhist practice of reverence, we circumambulated the church before entering. Once through the building’s large wooden doors, we were greeted not by a chorus of chanting monks (my secret hope), but by a single room centered around a twenty-foot statue of Siddhattha himself.

While we dusted the snow off our coats and Steve, apparently unaware of the glares coming from the other visitors, took countless flash photographs, we managed to overhear the last of the tour.

Though the details of the construction and history of the Stupa are fascinating, I’ll leave those to the experts – an account of the building’s history can be found here.

In talking to those in the Stupa and around the mountain center in general, I learned that many live year-round at the center (the reason for the cheap trailers), practicing archery, yoga and other traditional Buddhist arts pursuing their own paths to enlightenment.

Seeing the blissful calm in the faces of the center’s residents, I found it hard to resent what had seemed to me to be the shoddier aspects of the center. It occurred to me then that these cheap buildings were part of the very nature and idea of this place. Their very cheapness seemed to say that the day-to-day activities that they housed needed no frills or reverence. That those activities, like the buildings themselves, were peripheral — scattered around a magnificent, ornamented center.

Photo Cred: Stephen Benton

Driving Directions from CSU:

• Head north on Shields St.
• Turn west at CO-14/US-287 N
• Follow CO-14/ US-287 N and take a slight left at Co Rd 74E/Red Feather Lakes Rd.
• Turn left at Co Rd 68C
• Turn left, destination will be on the right

Directions courtesy of Google Maps

Our friends at the CSU Outdoor Club will be showing PowderWhore’s new ski film, “Flakes” at the LSC  theater tonight at 8pm. The event is FREE, but the club will be taking donations in support of the Larimer County Search and Rescue Team. Before the film begins the club will hold a gear swap where anyone is welcome to bring old (or extra) gear they’d like to trade.

Click here for a preview of the film, or here for another, more energetic preview from Black Diamond.

Wouldn't we all rather be here?

As outdoorsy folks, we want to connect with all of you other outdoorsy folks at CSU. We want to share stories with you, and we want you to share stories with us. Now, while you’re sitting in class wishing you were outside, you can check out this blog to get some ideas of where to go.
            Your Feat will serve as a forum for all of us who love to be outside. Several times a week we will bring you everything from personal accounts, to snow reports, book reviews and information you need to get out, including a calendar of local outdoor events. We also want you to share with us. Look to us as your guide to what’s outside, and let us know where to go and where you’ve gone.
            That’s what we have to offer ­­–– but what we here at Your Feat want to know is what do you want to know? When you go out, whether for an afternoon hike or a week-long epic, tell us about it. If you don’t want to go out, tell us where you want us explore.