EXPEDITION MONTS GROULX
February 12-24, 2005
By Evan Griffith, Semester 04

I’m writing about the Semester reunion that took place in February when we spent ten days skiing in Northern Quebec's Groulx Mountains.

Joe flew in from California two weeks before the trip began, Stefan drove up from Pennsylvania, Emily was already here and we picked Chris Knapp up on the way north. Although the van seemed full as we began our drive north, we were short two semester students: both Chris Clarke and Jane could not miss a week of school to join us on our journey. Misha's son Miron came, so there were eight of us.

I didn't believe Misha when he said that it would be really cold up there. I figured it was just his way of getting us over-prepared, but oh no, it was really cold. I felt it as soon as I got out of the van. It was the kind of cold I had remembered from the absolute coldest mornings on the semester, where my fingers became as functional and nimble as frozen hot dogs while doing the simplest of tasks. This time when I got the feeling it was the middle of the day. And, I could tell, a warm day.

The Monts Groulx are a cluster of mostly treeless and windswept mountains with many steep approaches surrounding them. The mountain range forms a relatively flat plateau, broken only by the numerous peaks and tree-filled valleys, and provides stunning views and stretches of easy travel.

Before ascending into the mountains we spent a night in a tight log cabin with a retired French-Canadian guide named Jacques who used to lead dog-sled trips in the mountains. From there we followed a stream bed up into the mountains and onto the plateau where we spent nine days exploring and living the life we had grown to love last year. Every other day we would move camp towards the northern end of our 40-kilometer route. The layover days were spent building snow walls to better insulate our tent, taking day trips to telemark bowls, and exploring the surrounding peaks. At one camp we made a ski jump and everyone -- especially Miron -- spent hours launching into the air or face first into the snow.

But it was cold. Many of the nights it got down to 40-below Fahrenheit and even during the day as we traveled I often wore almost all my clothing. (I really regret standing outside to watch the northern lights one night in only my ski pants and a t-shirt. I don't think I ever warmed up entirely after that.)

Finally it came time to return home. We came off the mountains through another streambed where we visited Michel, a local guide on whom we offloaded some of our extra bacon and chocolate. Then we retrieved the van and headed for home. When we reached the border and told the customs guy where we had been he said, "Are you guys crazy? It's cold up there!!"

Yep. That's true. But it's also stunningly beautiful. And I bet it builds character. And strengthens friendships. Which is why we love it.