OREGON, US: Nearing the end of a day of skiing in deep snow high on a ridge in the Siskiyou mountains, my two companions and I search for a spot to camp. My parka hood is drawn tight against a cutting winter wind that drives snow pellets into my face. Snow and clouds fuse, obstructing vision. Here's a spot. Not the best, I think, but passable. My companions shake their heads, no.
We continue searching. The lee side of the ridge is less windy, but too steep. But wait—down this steep slope we spot a tuft of white through the trees. Disconnecting our sleds and gear, we ski down and find a small protected clearing. Leveling out a flat area in the snow, we dig in and make camp for the night.
We wake up to calm, clear skies. Apparently, we've camped on the snowy top of a large rock outcropping—just enough below the ridge to offer protection from the wind. As we eat breakfast in the early morning light, from our ledge we savor the view, which we've dubbed "Eagle's Nest": 5,000 feet down into the valley and then back up to more mountains beyond. Perched on what seems like the top of the world, I sit in my sleeping bag, happily munching my breakfast.
