I can’t breathe. It’s pitch black. The middle of the night isn’t a great time to panic. Is there ever a great time to panic? I glance at my watch: 1:30 a.m.

Was that a nightmare? My surroundings come into mental focus. I’m on the top bunk of a triple-decker setup with Sean Lucey and Nick Russell on the rows below me. Austen Sweetin and Robin Van Gyn are cuddled up on the floor. All real estate is well occupied.

We’re in Nick’s off-grid cabin in California’s High Sierra. Tomorrow, we’re going camping. Today (if I can still call it that) we stretched our legs at altitude. Eleven-thousand feet of elevation felt hard on the lungs, especially during a season where I’ve been mostly down at sea level. It’s been a hard winter for alpine adventures at home and I’ve only been splitboarding a few days so far. Haven’t been up this high in a year, at least.

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