Today it was time to start escaping the confines of the resorts and look for new terrain to "ski". Suicide Chute often fills early and had been looking like it might go earlier in the week. With all the new snow to soften up the scree on the Superior apron, we decided to make an attempt. There was a booter from the road so we were clinging to optimism, in spite of seeing all the rocks and bushes poking through the obviously thin dusting. Pretty early on, after skinning over rock after rock, it became apparent the skiing the apron was not a good idea. Since that wasn't the goal, we pushed ahead and forced our way into the chute.
Adam scrambling over the slab/waterfall that guards the entrance to the chute.
Once in the chute proper, we found remnants of a booter and multiple ski tracks. Surprising, because I didn't think there'd be that many people as intrepid/foolish as us to hike through the rocks for a relatively short descent, that once out of the chute was bound to be ski scraping dicey.
Putting the exit out of our minds, the chute certainly looked appetizing.
Adam topping out.
A quick ski down found us transitioning to boot back up for a second lap. Once at the saddle that divides Suicide from Homicide Chute, we were just too tempted to make it a murder/suicide.
Homicide Chute early season
I made about 10 cautious turns down the west facing chute and grazed rocks with every one. We decided to save it for another day and climbed back out for another run down the east facing Suicide.
Adam had fun.
Until he had heard enough of the dreadful sound of edges over rocks and decided to walk down the apron.
Adam smartly walking about half way down the poorly covered Superior apron.
I kept skiing but stayed far skier's left amongst the bushes and grass to mitigate the chances of putting a core shot in my brother's skis or worse, taking a rock to the knee or face. Don't worry JD. A couple scratches are no big deal (my boots are still broken because Wasatch Touring is a horrible establishment that leaves me frustrated every time I enter the store and therefore I'm on my brother's F1's and 164 Trabs - think not that fun).
Anyway, it was enjoyable to get out of the conga line at Alta, even if it was just across the street. Probably should have looked for something at a higher elevation and either north or northeast facing. I'll think about that for tomorrow.