Michael Barton, owner and head guide  of Mountain Goat Ski Guides in Silverton, sent us this note about mysterious movements in the snow:

There’s a regularly occurring phenomenon that is a great mystery to this ski guide. Despite my schooling in science and having apprenticed for five years with world-renowned snow master Chris Landry, I cannot seem to figure this one out. I will open the floor for debate, and maybe someone out there in the world of snow-wandering mountain peoples knows how to solve the puzzle.

To see this, you must be moving quite slowly across the snow—imagine cross-country skiing or skinning gently uphill on a clear, blue-sky morning. It must have snowed recently, and the sun has to have been out. The phenomenon usually occurs in open patches of snow among stands of timber. If you look down at the base of pine trees when the conditions are right, you will see tiny specks of tree debris that seem to have moved of their own volition. They only move a few inches at most, but they leave a melted trail in the snow in spirals, loop de loops, or meanders like a river.

What makes them move? I don’t think it’s the wind, because the patterns are never alike, there can be hundreds under a tree, and each one goes its own way. Is the sun shining on the piece of debris and heating it, causing it to be drawn through the snow by molecular tension of water? Possibly, but there is more to it because the stuff moves in many directions and not always toward the sun.

I have presented this puzzle to snow scientists, avalanche forecasters, and countless groups of high school students in the winter backcountry. It seems wonderful to me that, in a world of information at our fingertips, riddles of nature remain. It’s for just this reason that I work as an outdoor educator. It certainly takes one’s mind off the uphills anyway.

If anyone can solve this mystery—or has any ideas on this whatsoever—please send me your thoughts. I’ll send a surprise gift to the person with the most plausible answer. Actually, I’ll describe the gift: It’s a DVD of the movie 2012 filmed in a theater in Nicaragua and dubbed into Spanish. Have a great ski season!

Companion bills introduced this fall in the House and Senate would add greater safeguards to more than 61,000 acres in southwestern Colorado. Here are five cool things that would be protected if the legislation passes:

Mt. Sneffels and peaks to its east would be protected under new wilderness legislation.

• Mt. Sneffels. Yup, this striking 14,150-foot peak isn’t covered by the existing Mt. Sneffels Wilderness—only about one-third of the mountain is currently protected. The planned 13,231-acre expansion would fix that.

• Whitehouse Mountain and the other high peaks west of Ouray. This is the million-dollar (billion-dollar?) view you get across the Double RL Ranch as you head west out of Ridgway. The newly expanded Sneffels Wilderness would encompass most of these beauties.

McKenna Peak.

• McKenna Peak. A new, 8,614-acre wilderness area will protect Colorado’s badlands, with wild horses, expansive piñon-juniper woodlands, abundant wildlife, fossil beds, and—get this—no developed trails.

• U.S. Grant Mountain. This rugged 13er, along with Pilot Knob and the other high peaks south of Ophir and west of Silverton—plus Ice Lake and the other stunning alpine tarns in this area—will be covered under the new, 21,697-acre Sheep Mountain Special Management Area.

• The Hardrock 100. The super-tough San Juans ultra is grandfathered under the proposed wilderness expansions. Similarly, heli-skiing, mountain biking, and other existing recreational uses of the Sheep Mountain area will be allowed.

Vestal Peak

In late August, Dave Goldstein climbed 13,803-foot Vestal Peak in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado, and about 100 feet below the summit he found a small fir tree. This wasn’t a shrub or wind-stunted krummholz—the tree (probably a subalpine fir) stands thigh-high. It’s growing on an east-facing ledge, with a six-foot rock wall behind it, at around 13,700 feet (4,175 meters).

The usual tree line in Colorado is no higher than about 11,700 feet (3,566m). Is this climate change? Or did this seed just find an unusually sheltered spot to take root? Either way, this could be the highest tree in the Rocky Mountains. Have you seen one that’s higher?