By Nielsen Greiner EBS COLUMNIST
It’s dark this time of year. And, for some of us, not just the short days themselves.
The American Psychiatric Association states that “two in five Americans say their mood worsens in winter.” And, according to Forbes, Montana ranks sixth as a state “most likely to be impacted by the winter blues.”
The previous two years, I bypassed Big Sky’s early winter in New Zealand, thru-hiking Te Araroa—“The Long Pathway”—in two different trips. Going to sleep early in my tent to the otherworldly sound of a Tūī’s song in fading light, and waking up early to low sunlight on damp mornings, I certainly didn’t mind the long summer days of the southern hemisphere before returning to the already lengthening days, and deeper snowpack, in Montana.
This year, after a few months of summer travel in Canada and Alaska, I stuck around—no escaping early winter darkness, this time.
At a Christmas Eve service, I caught up with a friend I haven’t seen in a while. We discussed the difficulty of early winter’s long nights and austere daylight. “I’ve tried all kinds of vitamins and supplements, but nothing’s worked,” he told me. What does work?
Montana Psychiatry and Brain Health Center gives some tips for coping with “the winter blues,” otherwise known as seasonal affective disorder. Exercise, outdoor activity and maintaining a routine are on the list.
This time of year, some mornings you force yourself out of bed for your job, or the resort, or the backcountry, or the gym, or some extra coffee and quiet before the day gets rolling. When the sun finally—finally!—finds its way into the sky, your whole being breathes a sigh of relief and manages to wake up a little.
Recently, I clocked my first day of splitboarding this season. I set an alarm on my phone and pulled myself out of bed when it screamed at me, though I would have rather kept sleeping. After caffeine and breakfast and giving myself some time to wake up, I loaded my gear in the truck and drove the slick roads to my destination, the first to arrive. With cold hands, I put on snowboard boots in the icy air, ripped and applied skins to my splitboard, turned on my avalanche beacon and walked off into the woods under a traversing sun that cast the dark shadows of skeletal trees on fresh, glistening snow. The shifting shadows on bright white were beautiful, a natural work of abstract art.
There was no skintrack, and I broke trail to the top, stopping to observe thick hoar frost growing on a rusty branch. Like the snow, it also glistened, bright as a distant star shining in a dark night.
There’s always a little light waiting for you somewhere. Sometimes you just have to force yourself out of the darkness—or your bed—to find it.
Nielsen Greiner is an aspiring writer, outdoor enthusiast, and small business owner based in Big Sky. He loves snowboarding and splitboarding, mountain biking, long day hikes and truck camping in the woods, and has a thing for books, coffee, trees and birds. This summer, Nielsen lived out of his truck while traveling through Canada and Alaska for two months. To read more, visit nielseninthewild.com.
