Skiing Off the Top of the Rockies

Yesterday kicked off this year’s 14er season for me with Mt. Elbert; I’ve set a goal of skiing 10 new-to-me 14ers and after yesterday, I only have to do nine more. Of course, it’s so enjoyable (I wouldn’t say “fun” is the right word for it) that I may go over. Time will tell I suppose. Here’s the track (blue is ascent, red is descent; approximately 6 miles and 5,000′ vertical each way):
Yesterday at 3:59am both Nate and I were sound asleep on the floor in the back of the luxurious Silver Plume Saloon. At 4:00 sharp, the alarms went off and it was time to get moving. A couple hours later we would pull into the parking lot for the South Mt Elbert Trailhead to single-digit temperatures. No time was wasted getting skinned up, and we were moving just before 7am.

Winds were almost nonexistent before getting in the trees, and were completely calm in them.

It was a tough temperature balance, as I had dressed for the forecast, with a high of nearly 40F and no wind. It was too warm for a shell while blazing through the trees, but a little chilly for just a t-shirt.

Surface hoar had grown everywhere, and the snow was sparkling brilliantly (though I seem to have failed capturing it in this photo).

After two miles along a snow-covered 4WD road, we reached the summer trailhead. There’s a small bridge here that seems to be in every TR along this trail; I’m not sure why, but here’s the mandatory bridge:

A couple more miles and we were at treeline, with most of the rest of the route in view.

Without any recent reports from this route, I was slightly concerned about snow coverage for the descent. This view made me pretty happy. There’s really nothing technical about this mountain, mostly skinning with a little booting over rock at times.

That doesn’t mean the views weren’t spectacular at times though.

Here I am, smiling for some reason.

Box Creek Chutes is the classic descent route on Elbert, and coverage is looking pretty decent.

We were considering that as a descent option; unfortunately some wind and clouds rolled in as we were nearing the top, and I expect the snow would’ve been rock hard and unenjoyable. There’s a good chance I’ll be back later this spring to hit Box Creek. There was a group of four Nebraskans who went up on Thursday and camped at treeline for two nights before going for the summit. I’m not sure when they started yesterday, but here they are coming down from the summit. Nate and I had another half hour or so from this point. The Nebraskan on the right looks rather nonplussed.

It was about this point that things became significantly more challenging; the air was getting thin and the mercury was dropping. I started employing my standard step-counting technique to keep myself moving at a reasonable pace. I would lead off, take 30 or 40 steps, stop, and breathe. Then Nate would cover the same distance, we’d point at the next false summit, say “five more sets, that’s the summit.” When I saw the final false summit I told Nate not to get too dismayed when we hit that point. We got there, saw the real summit 200′ above us, confirmed with the GPS how close we were, and I called one more set of 5 (which actually turned out to be accurate this time). After an hour of high intensity interval training at 14,000′, we reached the top.

We were both pretty tired from the climb, and instead of 40F, clear, and calm, it was probably in the 20s, overcast, and breezy. I asked Nate if he would mind not staying on top very long; turns out he had the same sentiment and was ready to strap in and go.

Since snowboarding is clearly the most efficient method of backcountry travel, Nate kept a pole out to help him keep moving along flat spots.

We had a decent ride down the east ridge, picking our way through the rocks. Coverage was pretty good, as I only had to take off my skis for one short section, although I did do a bit of billygoating through sparser sections. It was a mix of soft sastrugi, rockhard windslab, and difficult (but manageable) breakable crust.  Nate would later remark that he’d never turned into snow like that. I shot back, “you still haven’t.” We didn’t stop to take photos on the way down, as it was pretty straight forward and uninteresting. The aspens at the bottom were brutally tight, and I was wishing for the relative openness of the NE ridge’s runout. An hour and fifteen minutes after leaving the top (a mere fifth of the time spent on the ascent) we were back to the parking lot. Exhausted, we threw everything back in the car, had a beer, and were off.

I’m not sure what’s next, but there are quite a few options and I’ve got a project to work on.

Skiing, Headlamps, and SAR

Preface: Some of the pictures are grainy and noisy, a couple are out of focus. Such is what you have to deal with shooting at high ISO with a nifty fifty at night.

This is one of the stranger, more unlikely outings I’ve made. It started out simple enough, go up to Berthoud Pass for a few evening laps to enjoy the ridonkulous amounts of snow that fell on Sunday. Nothing too out of the ordinary, right? We got started upwards on the west side of the pass about 6:45pm, and found a miserable suncrust an inch thick on top of the powder. We were all amazed that a single day of warm weather did that much damage, but decided to go with it and have fun. Carl decided to skin straight up the boot pack, thinking it would be faster.

Lauren and I bailed after about 10 feet of that fiasco and took the proper skintrack, meeting up with Carl a few minutes later. We ripped skins and got ready to go down, laughing about how bad the snow was. Are we crazy? Why, yes! (as a side note, he threw a pretty rad 360 off the booter behind him, no photo of it though thanks to technical difficulties).

The snow was truly horrible. I’ve said it many times (and I’m sure I’ll say it again), but this was possibly the worst snow I’ve ever skied. I was throwing giant slabby 1″ thick bits all over the place. Here’sLauren doing just that, and she was barely moving.

We’re having fun, right? Right?

After fighting the snow on the way down to the warming hut on top of the pass, we talked to a couple folks who were waiting around in the hut. It turns out a friend of theirs took off for Mines Peak without a pack, water, headlamp, or anything. We started to get a little concerned and discussed it for a few minutes before dropping off a short (but fun) shot from the top of the pass to see if the snow was any better in the trees (it was AWESOME). Lauren drove a shuttle for us, so we were back up top about 10 minutes later. The guy was still missing, so we decided we’d hike up for about 5 minutes, ski down, catch a ride back up (Lauren driving again), and if he still wasn’t back we’d call a friend of Carl’s who’s on SAR.

It’s at the top of our 5 minute hike that I actually got a semi-decent photograph, of Brian.

The skiing was amazing, with untracked knee-deep turns most of the way down, as seen here:

and here:

When we got back, the guy still wasn’t back, so Carl first called the SAR buddy, then 911 (who didn’t understand when he explained that we were right on the border of two different counties), then explained the situation to the sheriff who buzzed up the pass to check out the situation.

The sheriff called SAR who decided to activate immediately, which meant an hour (at best) until they were moving to try to find him. At this point it was about 11:30pm; the guy had been gone since 6:30. Although it wasn’t terribly cold in relative terms, it was still in the teens and getting colder, and my friends and I decided that we were going to try to find him using the information his friend was able to provide. This meant a peak ascent at nearly midnight.

I hugged Lauren and promised I’d come back safe, and we were off. We flew up, covering about 1200′ of vertical in half an hour, getting on top about midnight. I found his footprints heading to the top, but they got jumbled in ski and snowboard prints; we searched the structures on the summit for half an hour, along with the surrounding area and saw no footprints leading away. Here’s a blurry shot of the microwave dishes on the top of Mines:

I spoke to SAR on my phone from the summit, giving them GPS coords, detailing what I’d seen, etc. It was beautifully calm at first, but the winds started to pick up shortly after midnight. Deciding that we’d done all we could, the three of us set off for the pass, trying to enjoy the ski descent in a foot of pow (until treeline, where it promptly became crusty).

I wasn’t optimistic about the outcome, but this afternoon I got amazing news. He somehow hiked out to the north, and made his way back to the road. I thought he would’ve tried to hunker down for the night, but he was cold so he kept moving to stay warm. He was hitchhiking his way to the top of the pass, and told the people he caught a ride with he was lost; a few minutes later the truck carrying him went by an SAR vehicle, so they pulled over and said “I think we have your guy.” No major injuries, just a little frostbite on one hand and foot.

I got home after 2am, and drank at least a gallon of coffee today at work. I’m exhausted, and I’m sure I’ll sleep well tonight.

Becoming Educated in Crested Butte

As most of you are aware, I’ve been skiing and climbing in the backcountry for a few years. At first I didn’t know all that much about snow and avalanches, and looking back I’m fortunate that I didn’t do anything TOO stupid. As time went on I’ve learned more about avalanches, largely thanks to Friends of Berthoud Pass with their very inexpensive avalanche safety class. Despite hearing that it would be mostly review given my level of experience, I decided it was finally time to take an AIARE Level I course. Lauren and I settled on a three-day class with Crested Butte Mountain Guides in Crested Butte over this past weekend. I only took photos during the field sessions for obvious reasons, and if you want a full-course synopsis you can look here, as I won’t be going over the whole thing.

Friday’s field sesion consisted of checking beacon function, followed by performing beacon searches. As you can see, it was snowing. Jayson (lead guide and owner of CBMG) would later inform us that according to remote instruments, every time we went out into the field it was snowing at a rate of 3″ per hour. Continue reading

Valentine’s Weekend Skiing

As you’re all aware, this season has been particularly dry for the Front Range of Colorado; this is a major contributor to the near-total lack of blog posts as of late. It seems that our luck may finally be changing, as has been the case with the past several El Nino years. Saturday and Sunday at Loveland were excellent; there are only a couple pictures, both from Sunday, both of Lauren, and she’s really coming along with her skiing.
On an unfortunate note, Charles was unlucky enough to find a patch of ice on I-70 Sunday morning, resulting in the following:

Apparently at least three people made their way into the guardrail that day, in the same spot.

Although I’m busy with studying at the moment (and for the next two months), things should be getting back to normal around here.

Finally!

It snowed! After a season of crappy snow and a horribly dangerous snowpack, Colorado finally got some good snow. Saturday I went to Jones Pass with Nate, Hans, Larry, Lee, and Lauren. Only got a couple decent shots there, as follows: Continue reading

Monarch Pass Pow

These photos are a couple weeks old at this point, taken on January 2nd at Monarch Pass by Hans Flinch, a good friend and soon-to-be Alaskan climbing partner. I’m usually behind the lens, so these are some of (if not the) best action shots of me skiing. Enjoy.

Great Start to a New Year

I hope all of you had as great a start to 2010 as I did. It started at the Plume Saloon, with a fairly small crowd but several friends, which is what really matters. Here are a couple photos from the evening, no in-depth descriptions necessary. Lauren and Hans:

Lauren and I:

Chris and Hans:

I felt pretty good the next day, Hans not so much:

Skiing with friends is the name of the game at Loveland:

Lauren shredding the gnar groomers:

The next day we daytripped to Monarch Pass for some great powder. Hans the rockstar:

Lauren loving the skin up:

The rime was beautiful:

And the skiing was a blast. Lauren enjoying the low-angle trees:

Hans loving life:

This was Lauren’s first time skiing powder, so she spent a lot of time “learning:”

At the bottom of the lap we did a rutschblock test to check the snowpack. It was terrible, but not unexpected. A light jump from a light guy was able to collapse the 8-12″ of basal facets, which means low-angle trees will be the name of the game for the rest of the season:

The drive back was miserable, and I missed 6″ of new snow and terrain at Loveland today, but at least I got to relax a bit, fix my dryer, and wax my skis. I have a feeling this will be a great year, and can’t wait to see what lies ahead.

Terrible Snow at Jones Pass

I went up to Jones Pass on Saturday for a little bit of exploration and skiing to burn off the stresses of the work week. Cast of characters, starting with Aaron:


And his friend, Drew:

When we met at the lots in Morrison for the ride up, there was a rather large group milling around. Just our luck, a CMC group decided to go up there as well (and if you’ve been reading a while, you might remember that the last time I went up with Aaron, we ran into a rather large CMC group).


They pulled in immediately behind us, so we got ready and got on the move ASAP.


After, oh, thirty minutes or so of skinning up an occasionally-dry road, we got to the main trailhead, and were greatly disappointed with what we found, especially since Butler Gulch (which is RIGHT THERE and at lower elevation was so good last week before the most recent storm).


So further along the road we went, in search of higher elevations and more snow. We found more snow, but not by much.


The Point.


If you look closely, you can see the elevator shaft to the Henderson Mine, which goes down roughly a mile.


After a rest break and a little bit of sun exposure and heating, the snow got terrible for climbing. It rapidly softened, to the point that skinning or edging was impossible, with the top few inches sliding off an extremely hard layer underneath, hard to the point that my new BCA snow saw was having trouble with it.


Onward and upward we went, to the Continental Divide at roughly 12,400′. It was windy but the temps were pretty nice. There are no photos of the skiing because it was absolutely terrible. Variable soft/breakable crust all the way down to the road, then the road was narrow, bumpy, frozen hardpack with intermittent dirt and rock patches. Oh well, still a good day out, and a good warmup for the season. We’ll end with a parting shot from the Divide:

Butler Gulch

After some discussion, I went up to Butler Gulch yesterday morning for a quick tour. The cast of characters included the following:

Larry, tele-skier extraordinaire


Travice:


Lindsay (red) and Bella (dog) (Larry is in Orange):


And Hans:


The plan was to go up a little ways, do a little exploration, and get a few nice turns in. Beautiful.


A couple hours later, we topped out for the day. We didn’t go much higher due to time and also avalanche risks. Any higher and the slope steepened up, and the trees cleared out. Given October’s avalanche record, I’m very cautious right now. We de-skinned, and I took off to enjoy some turns and get set up for taking some shots. Unfortunately, there was a tele-binding issue which held things up a bit.


Finally, everything was set. Larry killing it:


Travice ripping:


Lindsay and Bella having a blast:


And Hans loving life:


Coverage wasn’t awesome. I sustained a little bit of damage, Hans took nothing, and Travice had a nice big core shot from it all. Oops.

And here are a couple artsy-style photos, since it was just so damn beautiful up there.



Yesterday was my second day skiing, and first day in the backcountry for the year. And it was a blast.