40 degrees warmer

By no means do I consider myself experienced in the backcountry.  I've been skiing almost exclusively outside the resort for the past four years, but nobody becomes an expert in four years.  I'm quick to concede the fact that I have lots to learn.

All of this was further reinforced yesterday when, because of a few smart decisions and lucky breaks, I enjoyed amazing powder turns while another more experienced group only a short distance away, because of a few bad decisions and/or shitty luck, spent the day digging out of an avalanche (picture one, two).

This winter's been strange.  One week we'll have -22* and hoar frost; the next week we'll get a Chinook wind and 33* freezing rain.  All of this has wrecked havoc on our local snow pack.  A week and a half ago I noticed numerous natural avalanches at lower elevations.  Yesterday's avy report warned of isolated instabilities at mid elevations.

Nonetheless, with temperatures hovering in the 25* range and a layer of new snow--the type of whether we've been waiting for--a crew of us set out for a few turns yesterday.  Fortunately, we recognized it was time to be cautious.

The Wife getting started:

With a group half-full of greenhorns, we headed back to the same place I wrote about a couple weeks ago.  This place is well known for its predictable conditions and safe slope--the sort of place you should go to when things are sketchy.

Here's Megan (killing it on her first real backcountry tour) and Doug charging up the skin track:

Our skin up was pretty ideal.  Doug heard some significant whumphing at one point--which was consistent with our various warnings--but I saw no first-hand signs of instability.  Once we got above the trees, things seemed to firm up.  

Roughly 1500 feet up, the pitch steepened:

Megan and Doug getting ready for the turn:

The down was ridiculous.  I've racked my brain trying to rank it compared to past days.  It wasn't the best, but definitely was in the top five.  Of course, you'll have to take my word for it because I didn't get a single picture of the main face.  To busy skiing to get a decent picture, I guess.

Evan, after skiing down the top pitch:

Me, coming in for a landing:

Megan and Doug:

Looking south:

The token group shot:

By the time we reached the lower elevations and got back to tree line, we could hear multiple helicopters that we later learned were part of a rescue operation just a couple peaks south (near the left portions of the past two pictures).

At this point in my typical blog post, I'd close with a picture of a beer and write something about how awesome the day was.  But, in this case it seems odd to have enjoyed such wonderful lines so close to where another group had such a terrible, possibly life-ending experience--all in the same day.  My group obviously made good decisions (starting with the decision to go somewhere familiar that had a reputation for being safe) but still. . .



. . . here's to making good decisions . . . and having however much luck is required.

40 inches in the last 12 hours?

Reports out of Alyeska proved a bit too much to resist so I ended up playing hooky and going skiing yesterday.

I forgot the camera, but rest assured it was amazing.

Yesterday was epic

My brother Josh got in Monday and will be staying for about three weeks. Determined not to let work get in the way too much, I took a personal day yesterday and we headed out for a little backcountry skiing and exploring. Here's Josh leading the charge:When we started, visibility was mediocre and there was about six inches of fresh snow from the night before. By day's end, the six inches had grown to fourteen and the light was about as flat as it gets.

After skinning about a mile and gaining modest elevation, we came to our destination--the steep slope I watched snowmobilers wallow around on a few weeks ago. Since reports indicated the snow had stabilized, we hoped to get some steep turns in. We dug a snowpit and performed a compression test. Things were looking good. Nothing sheared during our compression test until we hammered on the snow as hard as we could repeatedly. Onword, searching for a way around a band of rocks:We eventually abandoned the skins and booted up the final pitch:Getting beat by the wind on the way up:After poking around a bit on the top trying to figure out the best descent line, I dropped in. As expected, there was tons of sluff from the new snow--much more than I had ever experienced. When combined with the steep pitch and my alpine-skier-in-telemark-gear getup, skiing the initial pitch was one hell of an adrenaline rush--more than I had had in years. Josh followed and met me at a safe spot beneath some rocks half way down the initial pitch:With the poor visibility, we never were able to get a good picture of the entire pitch. However, Josh caught this gem of me making turns near the bottom of the face--check out that ridiculous grin:The snow was incredible--you could have used a snorkel. Here's Josh reflecting on the best turns either of us ever had:With the light getting poor, we had just enough time for one final run through the trees. Here I am trying not to run into the largest snowflake ever:A very good day, indeed.

This is October?

Lander got dumped on over this past weekend. Snow started falling on Friday and by the time the sky cleared on Sunday there was around 18 inches of the good stuff.

With The Wife out of town visiting the Old Country, I was without our regular camera and had to rely on my phone for the heavy lifting. Since I also chose the darkest possible moment to take the pictures, I'll apologize in advance for the poor quality...

This is Friday night, with a BL smoothie for scale.

Same thing on Saturday night. However, there is no need for alarm--the BL smoothie was safely consumed the night before and not sacrificed with the snow.

And, one bonus picture: