Many people ask us when we are going to perform, but part of the true magic of what we are doing is coming across our summit concerts unexpectedly.
EVER SINCE MY GRANDPA gave me my first keyboard, it’s been a lifelong dream of mine to play piano on a mountain summit. The climbing class required me to train with a forty-five-pound pack, the same weight of my backcountry keyboard backpack. There is something personally satisfying about carrying my piano in a sixty-liter backpack to fulfill a lifelong dream of creating music on a mountain summit. —Rose
AS A KID, I was severely bullied and I struggled to find my place in the world. I started playing violin when I was four and spent most of my time outside exploring and hiking. Music and the mountains have always been my refuge— they are the two things in my life that allow me to be exactly who I am, without judgment. —Anastasia
We are both mountain climbers and lifelong musicians. Through a curious sequence of events, we were brought together and discovered a shared dream of carrying our instruments, the violin and piano, into the wilderness to perform. Our original audience included Mount Pilchuck, Monte Cristo, Sloan Peak, Mount Baker, and the rest of the Cascade Range. On the audio for our very first concert, we can be heard saying, “I wonder if anybody heard us?”
Finding the Musical Mountaineers in the wilderness is akin to spotting a Sasquatch—we don’t announce our concerts and we are usually up and down the mountain before most people are even arriving at the trailhead. Many people ask us when we are going to perform, but part of the true magic of what we are doing is coming across our summit concerts unexpectedly. We are also very aware of Leave No Trace ethics, and we are very conscientious about not having oversized groups in the wilderness.
On the day of a backcountry concert, we typically wake up at a ridiculously early hour—sometimes as early as 1 or 2 a.m. We drive to the trailhead, often feeling so excited that we are jittery and almost buoyant with energy. The hike begins in the dark, by the light of the moon and our headlamps. As the sun starts to rise, anticipation of the concert increases: “Will we make it to the summit before sunrise? Will we be too cold? Will the wind die down?” Every Musical Mountaineers adventure has its own challenges. Strings go out of tune quickly in the cool, thin air. Blustery winds send sheet music down the mountainside like paper airplanes. The buildup is intensely exciting—we frantically put on dresses, set up camera equipment, and retrieve our instruments. Despite our concerns, when our notes first drift into the crisp mountain air, everything is perfect.
The music and the mountains are two powerfully emotional languages that speak to every single person. Our dream is to use this powerful combination to remind people of all the good in the world.
ROSE FREEMAN AND ANASTASIA M. ALLISON
