Finding Nirvana in the Bighorns

story by Jenna Lyons photos by Seth Warren

Earth, wind and fire: Where it all comes together

Earth

As one drives from Montana to Wyoming, the Bighorn Mountains rise suddenly and dramatically from the sage-covered plains. These mountains span from northern Wyoming to southern Montana, and to put it simply, the Bighorns are replete with both mystery and magic.

The Bighorns have been inhabited by multiple groups of Indigenous peoples. The Crow Nation continues to manage bison in the Bighorns, and a portion of the Bighorns are completely off-limits to non-tribal members, as this area is sacred. A Medicine Wheel in the northern section of the Bighorns is an ancient site that is still used today for ceremonies. When I first visited the Bighorns, originally for an ultramarathon I was running, I could feel a vast amount of energy pulsing through my feet and blowing on the wind. But I had never experienced the Bighorns in winter.

The Bighorns are full of life, and the landscape runs the gamut from subalpine juniper and conifer to

Newly engaged Brian and Michelle, bringing smiles and aloha spirit. Pascal Joubert soars below a knife-edge cornice during the Bighorn Snowkite Summit.

A group, including a rare cameo appearance of photographer Seth Warren (bottom right), loaded up and cozy in the snowcat and headed out to shred the goods on kites and wings.

The snowcat and a happy group blissed out during golden hour. A myriad of wings playing on the wingtips of sunset winds.

desert prairie—mainly grass and sage. A landscape could not be more full of drama, with Jurassic cliffs and intriguing, ancient formations rising out of the ground and breaking up the vast skyline. The Powder, Tongue, and Little Bighorn rivers are fed by the snowfall from the Bighorns. And most importantly for snowkiting, snowmobiling, and skiing, the Bighorns are high in elevation, which allows the blessing of an abundance of snow.

I came to discover that it is during winter that the magic truly happens. After a long journey from

“The sun kissed everything in sight and the wind blew in a way that could only be interpreted as a call to adventure.”

Missoula, with an overnight stop in Livingston to stay with a good friend, we arrived at the Wyoming High Country Lodge via snowmobile. My partner and friends, and all the other kiters along for the journey, disappeared into a vortex of time and space.

Upon arrival, we all received a warm welcome from the owners of the lodge. This particular trip was led by Brad Gordon, founder of the Thermal Foundation. Brad’s objective is to help people go on adventures and explore new places while they are snowkiting. As a new snowkiter, I was excited to meet other kiters and go on an adventure with my partner (a seasoned kiter) and my newfound kiting friends. The sun kissed everything in sight and the wind blew in a way that could only be interpreted as a call to adventure.

Wind

Pascal Joubert is one of the pioneers of snowkiting in the United States. I was somewhat starstruck when I asked him to answer some questions about speedflying and kiting because he is a legend in our community of mountain wind sports. It was difficult to track him down because he is so passionate about the outdoors that he is always out doing what he loves.

Originally from Vercors (France) and now located in Briancon, Pascal started kiting in 1998 (when I was six) and paragliding in 2000. He then started “gliding,” which is basically flying a kite like a paraglider, in 2000 or 2001. According to Pascal, gliding just came naturally and was dictated by the playground

Kaleidoscope of kites parked and landing in the base camp of Brad Gordon’s Thermal Foundation snowkite adventure.

Jenna Lyons and Sara Newgard (how about that vintage North Face!) getting ready for a session.

During a brief interlude in the snowkite adventures, Brad Gordon is always shredding the hardest in all disciplines and putting on a show for clients.

where he lives. He is privileged to live in a landscape that is completely mountainous, with no flatlands.

Pascal discovered the Bighorns and expanded his playground in 2011. He recognized the potential for snowkiting when he learned the Bighorns receive snow very early in the fall and late in the spring. He specifically noted Mount Baldy, a small ridge rising out of the forest, as a favorite kiting spot due to its ability to catch wind in all directions. For Pascal, the small to medium hills which are flat at the bottom and graduate to steep up high, offer endless possibilities on a spectrum from snowkiting and gliding using kites to kiting speedwings both up and down the terrain and even launching and soaring full-sized paragliders.

“The visual panorama was almost overwhelming to take in... And the play continued, for hours on end.”

The Bighorns are prime territory for speedflying and flying miniwings when conditions are right— which is often. The ridges and rims of the Bighorns create perfect compression zones, allowing one to soar until their heart is content. Pascal and others have created and inspired a community of paragliders, speedflyers, and snowkiters who are only limited by their creativity in moving across, up, and down the features of the landscape. I never dreamed of being able to kite up a hill and have endless powder turns down the hill, nor did I ever believe it was possible to ski so fast on flat ground, propelled only by a kite. As a beginner snowkiter, I was happy to improve my own skills and go on smaller adventures, following my partner, Seth, who would watch over me and make sure I didn’t get into trouble. The journeys became a little longer for me on each outing, and with each day in the Bighorns, we traveled a little farther and discovered new features.

I watched more experienced kiters haul across the flats, hanging off the kite bar with one arm, and

Naish kites designer Brian Dennis is all smiles after surfing a giant white wave. Pascal and Andrew Muse team riding in the Bighorns.

edging their skis against the wind and snow with perfect style. Meanwhile, in the distance, I saw Gordon and others kiting their miniwings up the hill in a matter of seconds, only to turn around and fly down. Others stay on the flats, occasionally boosting and jumping 20-30 feet in the air. The visual panorama was almost overwhelming to take in, with so much life and movement bustling around. And the play continued, for hours on end. The days concluded with cold beer, laughter, and a snowmobile ride back to the lodge. Some people simply kited cross country, all the way back to the lodge where a home-cooked meal awaited.

Fire

On one particular evening, after one of my longest kiting adventures yet, I went outside while our group was inside the lodge having an epic disco dance party. I walked out to the middle of a field, past the reaches of the light and sound from the lodge. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in, then exhaled, releasing all of the pressures and stresses of normal life.

Glittery snow fell on my eyelashes and the stars glimmered like diamonds in the black velvet sky. I listened to a coyote howl in the distance and an owl hoot just overhead. I felt the wind move across the landscape, and I saw my breath in front of me. The fingers of the cold penetrated through my long wool coat, through my ribs and all of my bones, and into my lungs. Windburned with rosy cheeks and tired from kiting, I felt my very being stripped down to the core, and in a rare moment of tranquility, I felt inner peace and unity with the world around me. It was in this moment that I felt nirvana and the magic that only comes from the union of earth, wind, and fire—and from our greater community of those who love to play on the wind.

Brad Gordon's shadow chases him down the lip of one of the most prominent features in the Bighorns' snowkiting and speedriding zones.