BARTLETT, N.H. — To drive to Attitash Mountain just before dawn is to wake up giants.
The sky is still dark, as you wind your car alone through backroads, but lit just enough to illuminate the deep black silhouettes of the cliff faces of the White Mountain range that appear around each bend.
On a frigid January day, just after 6 a.m., the morning shift at the Bartlett, New Hampshire resort trudged out into the snow to man their stations. A battalion of trail groomers filled the air with light and engine sounds as they headed upward.
This is when and where Grant Erickson and Ryan McClintock start many of their weekend days this winter. They were not there to catch the first chair; which wouldn't turn through the gate until 8:30.
They chose the longer, harder way up.
They do take the lifts when they feel like it but, most days, they attach gripping skins to their skis, step into specially designed bindings, and hike up the trail before gliding down.
The pair wore headlamps as they put on layers of clothing and their ski boots, but the sun finally crested the summit as they made it to the base of the mountain.
Erickson and McClintock have been skiing together since 2004, after McClintock's mom, Elaine Breen, first got him up on a mountain; an external challenge to go along with the one he was facing inside himself.
McClintock has autism.
He's also a seriously talented skier. As a kid, he quickly went from a student in the Mount Washington Valley adaptive sports program, to teaching in the adaptive program, to venturing out full-time with Erickson, a Carrabassett Valley Academy grad whose sister learned the sport through the adaptive program before McClintock joined.
"He's a good decision maker, even though he can't always verbally convey that," Breen explained.
"It seems Ryan, specifically, has accelerated very quickly," Erickson said.
Unsatisfied with being able to traverse mountains together, the two athletes decided to put their skills to the most strenuous test they could find. We met them at Attitash at such an early hour because that's when the mountain staff prefers they get their uphill training in.
They trained for a race that could reasonably be described as insane.
The pair is competing in "Last Skier Standing," an endurance race where athletes hike up and ski down. If they do that in an hour, they have the privilege of going another hour, until one athlete remains. It can last days.
"I like to do the lap," McClintock smiled.
"We're gonna do a lot of laps," Erickson replied. "Are you ready for that?"
"I'll be ready for that; to do a lot of laps," McClintock exclaimed. "Trust me!"
Breen was certainly not going to stand in Ryan's way.
"Treat him like everybody else. He can do it; he's highly capable," she said. "Just because he maybe can't express himself like somebody else would, doesn't mean he doesn't understand what you're saying, and doesn't mean he can't do it. From Ryan's standpoint, it's never actually occurred to him that he couldn't do something."
McClintock found his happy place.
"Skiing makes me feel good," he said.
As it turns out, that statement has a deeper meaning than it might seem. Breen explained that the rush of the air, and the vibrations from the snow to the skis to his feet, help give McClintock's brain a heightened sense of focus and direction.
"All the sensations of skiing and having the subtleties of edging and turning and all of that was just really good sensory input," she said.
Last Skier Standing is scheduled to start February 10 at Black Mountain of Maine in Rumford. There's no telling when the race will end.
Through their training and competition, Erickson and McClintock are raising money for the adaptive sports program that brought them together; building on Ryan's legacy each time he clips in.
And, just like their regular adventures together, the young men haven't set any goals for themselves in the race, except to go and do it.
"If I say my goal is 12 laps, that’s a point where I can stop myself," Erickson shrugged.
They show no signs of stopping any time soon.