tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40223272605534407752024-03-17T20:59:20.319-06:00Andy SherpaA Journal of Adventure and Training in the Wasatch and BeyondSLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.comBlogger372125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-35075302972954897142017-05-31T14:31:00.002-06:002017-05-31T14:31:45.804-06:00Liberty Ridge Speed Attempt: 7:07 Car to Car<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last week, while at work, I checked the weather for Mount Rainier, looked over at Jason and suggested a climb and ski of the classic Liberty Ridge. He immediately said, "sure" and we went back to work. A couple days later reports starting surfacing of a new speed record for the route with a descent down the Emmon's for a car to car time of 9:11. Sure enough, Eric Carter, Nick Elson, and Colin Haley had laid down a solid time but were modest and encouraging that it could be done much faster with better conditions. They had faced significant delays by having to break trail for much of the upper route. Further, all three live at sea level. Looking at my watch right now in my office, I sit at 4600 feet and Jason lives at 7400; a distinct advantage. </div>
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Reluctant and sheepish to attempt a faster time in the same week, we quickly got over our reservations as we became more and more excited by the mountain itself. Our main concern was how we would hold up fitness wise as we hadn't exactly been training for a long sustained effort like this. </div>
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Our plan was now to leave home after work on Thursday, stop in Boise, finish the drive Friday and recon the start, and then go for it on Saturday. This would hopefully allow for another day to ski on Sunday as we had friends converging on the mountain from AK, CO, and UT and it would have been fun to get a chance to actually ski the ridge too. Then, as is typical, we were scheduled to work on Monday so we figured we'd rally home as soon as we were done on Sunday afternoon. </div>
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Everything went according to plan until about one hour into the effort on Saturday morning. We felt strong, the conditions were fast, albeit slightly warm, and we were ahead of pace. That is until I heard a snap while skinning through a small depression just before tree line. I looked down and the day was over. My ski was broken and so were our ambitions. St. Elmo's pass looked just minutes away but we were done before we could even really get started. </div>
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Immediately, I grabbed my phone and started frantically calling Lars Kjerengtroen and Brian Harder, both of whom were en route to the mountain and with whom we hoped to ski the next day. Neither had extra race skis or access. We skied/limped out and started texting everyone we knew in the PNW. Eric Carter gave me Colin Haley's number and he very generously offered his personal skis but they wouldn't be available till Monday. Patrick Fink put me in touch with Ethan Linck, who did some leg work to find Todd Kilcup, who also very generously offered to let me borrow his race skis. In another stroke of luck, the bindings were mounted perfectly to my boots. </div>
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Four hours later, we had obtained the skis and were back in the White River area trying to rest for a second attempt. Unfortunately, we wouldn't be able to ski with our friends but fortunately, they were starting much earlier and we were hoping for a boot track for much of the route. That was practically a given as the rangers reported a number of parties already high on the route. </div>
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The next morning, around 4:40, we were off. It was hard to control the pace early but we knew we would struggle with cramps due to the high cadence throughout the day. We didn't ask for them, but had been given the splits by friends who had talked with Carter et al. We could tell early on that we were making good time and the motivation was high as we chatted throughout the wooded section. </div>
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I should probably pause and mention how inspirational Eric, Nick, and Colin have been. Eric has placed highly at the world cup level of ski mountaineering racing and beat our time for the overall fastest time on the mountain. Nick holds the record for the Grand Traverse in the Tetons (which is mind blowing). And, we regard Colin as one of the best Alpinists in the world and he's apparently one of the nicest guys too based on our brief text exchange. </div>
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Having said that, I hope they feel that our "rivalry" is good natured and we appreciate them pushing us to do our best. Sorry guys to go after it so quickly after you did but when the conditions are in....</div>
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Back to the skiing...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from St. Elmo's Pass</td></tr>
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We topped out St. Elmo's pass in just over 1:30, looked out over the Winthrop Glacier, and got really excited. The whole route was in view and the day had dawned clear and still. We raced across the glacier, hopping small crevasses, and fortunately found the way onto the Carbon Glacier around the low point on Curtis Ridge. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the Winthrop Glacier with the route above. </td></tr>
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We contemplated roping up as we carried standard gear but the route was clear as other parties had found the best way. There was only one fairly sketchy snow bridge to cross right at the base of the ridge where we stopped for a moment to drink and eat. 2:45 had elapsed and we were still feeling strong. Further, our friends were visible, heading for Thumb Rock and I was looking forward to the distraction of chatting with them for a bit. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking up at the route from the entry point onto the Carbon Glacier. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nearing the ridge</td></tr>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T74coV9BmF8/WS8TyWMMpQI/AAAAAAAAKG0/Bm9cwMi_2G4Vgta_-iW8BN6Bl3MJTyAqACLcB/s1600/GOPR2288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T74coV9BmF8/WS8TyWMMpQI/AAAAAAAAKG0/Bm9cwMi_2G4Vgta_-iW8BN6Bl3MJTyAqACLcB/s640/GOPR2288.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Catching up, Brian and Tyler stepped aside and offered encouragement. Lars put in a dig to stay ahead to make sure the booter was well groomed. We tried to get him to rally the rest with us as he is clearly stronger than an ox but he's a good friend and partner and stayed with the other guys. </div>
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Out on the east side of the ridge, the sun was boiling and we started to really slow down. Both of us thought our hip flexors and adductors were going to betray us as we were starting to feel twinges of cramps. Never feeling aerobically taxed, we still agreed that a steady pace, even if slow, was the best strategy. We kept moving....barely. </div>
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We hit the bergschrund, and even though we knew to climb it at the high point, all the tracks heading that way had been erased by a slight stream of spindrift. There were some fresh tracks heading climber's left that we explored before coming to our senses and committing to action. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking around the schrund for passage. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason, climbing the only technical section of the whole route. </td></tr>
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Over the schrund, a gentle breeze picked up and so did our pace. We hit the summit ridge, transitioned from crampons to skis, and hit the top of Liberty Cap in 5:27. Another race transition led to some of the worst skiing of the day on very fatigued legs that were quivering with the threat of cramps. </div>
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Somehow, the governor began to release it's choke hold and we were able to actually skin to the true summit at a more reasonable pace. We hit Columbia Crest in 5:57 and found about a dozen people on the summit. The mood was festive and we were quickly outed as two dorks on skinny skis, carbon boots, and tight pants are obviously up to something stupid. The folks on the summit were kind and friendly, offering encouragement as we transitioned to skiing for the final time. </div>
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Neither of us had skied the Emmon's previously and so we skied with some caution until down to Camp Sherman. From there's we traversed skier's right onto the Interglacier and rallied with absolutely zero grace through some truly horrific isothermic snow. Back in the woods, we followed the up track, dodging the Memorial day crowds, until we reached our shoes. </div>
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Jason was interested in pushing for a sub seven hour time but that ship had sailed with other inefficiencies higher up. We had two miles to run and ten minutes to do it. Even without the skis, boots, ice tools, etc I would be hard pressed to pull that off with specific training. Regardless, I pushed harder and harder the closer we got and made one last mad dash through the sloppy snow patch guarding the trailhead. </div>
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While we didn't go sub 7, Jason was satisfied with my effort on the run stating that I just became a man. That's high praise from that guy. </div>
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We sat on the road for a few minutes, pleased with the effort and how the day had gone, before making some food and waiting for the other guys to finish. As they walked in like more sane people, we cheered them on and slapped high fives for the successful mission all around. </div>
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Final thoughts: </div>
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1. I've become weak and I don't like driving home after stuff like this.</div>
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2. That was perhaps the most fun day of skiing I've had all year.</div>
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3. I just like skiing. </div>
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Gear list:</div>
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La Sportiva Cubes</div>
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Movement and Atomic race skis with race bindings</div>
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Grivel Quantum Tech ice tools</div>
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Grivel Skitour crampons (steel toe and aluminum heel made for ski boots)</div>
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Pomoca mohair skins cut for full coverage</div>
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Ski crampons</div>
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And other miscellaneous knick knacks</div>
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Fuel:</div>
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Gel mixed in Gatorade (I hate doing this but it's fast and works). </div>
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SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-77423575757362023622016-11-29T18:14:00.000-07:002016-11-29T18:14:10.655-07:00White Rim Time Trial: 5:59<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-orUQRzp7UYU/WD4f7Fn60JI/AAAAAAAAKEY/tmi57d-RCpM5dMsu5_3URgQjLeULCnUXQCLcB/s1600/IMG_8589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-orUQRzp7UYU/WD4f7Fn60JI/AAAAAAAAKEY/tmi57d-RCpM5dMsu5_3URgQjLeULCnUXQCLcB/s640/IMG_8589.JPG" width="512" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking down some of the Shafer switchbacks</td></tr>
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Since I hung up the skis in April (earliest ever) I have been dutifully training on the bike for a smattering of races, both road and mountain. The season was mixed with some good results, some dnf's, and a couple unfortunate flats. My best results seemed to come against people who didn't know they were racing i.e. Strava! <br />
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One goal for the year was to return to the White Rim in Canyonlands National Park and try to set the FKT for the loop. I rode it last year with Tom, Jason, and Jason and felt like I could go a bit faster. When trying to break a "record", it's good to know what that time actually is. The internet could only tell me that Jeremy Nobis was suspected of having the record with a time of 6:10-20ish. <br />
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In early November, I got an invite from the Simmons boys and Paul Hamilton to try and ride to loop fast as a group. We started at the top of the Shafer climb and rode counter clockwise, trading pulls until eventually I found myself off the front gunning for Nobis' time. Bonking hard, I completed the loop at the top of the Shafer climb in 6:09. I felt a little sheepish about calling that the "record" so I decided I'd have to go back and ride it solo. <br />
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A couple weeks later, a work window opened up and I made to solo drive down to Green River for a night at the Comfort Inn. All too early, the alarm pierced through my ear plugs. Packing up, I was anxious to get started. <br />
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This time, I parked at the visitor's center and rode down the Shafer switchbacks to start my loop at the bottom, climbing back up, and continuing counter clockwise. I reasoned that it would be good to tackle the climb while fresh and then finish on the mostly "false flat downhill" towards the base of the climb. <br />
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It was a cool autumn morning in the desert and I was feeling fairly fresh in spite of the Grandeur laps that I'd been doing in preparation for ski season. At the junction with the Potash Rd, I stashed a long sleeve jersey, started my watch, and set in for a long day. It felt good to start climbing and even though I didn't have a power meter, I sensed I had good legs. <br />
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Hitting the pavement in 27 minutes, I was ahead of schedule and told myself to not push too hard so early. I tried to stay steady until the Mineral Bottom Rd and then use the down hill treading section to maintain a high pace and get in some calories. At the river, I found the road to be dry and even a little sandy which was not a good indicator of the conditions ahead. <br />
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At one point, I dropped a gel flask, thought about leaving it, but flipped a U to go back and grab it. I figured the 30 seconds lost to do so would pay dividends later. I was also glad to not litter. I was not however, glad about the increasingly sandy road ahead. The last trip with the Simmons boys held very little sand and was overly wet. This day was the opposite. <br />
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Spinning out and wasting watts, I was a little bummed to be working so hard to be going so slow. My optimistic goal was under 5:45 but I was still going to be happy with sub 6 hours. I could feel it slipping away in the sand. <br />
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Fortunately, I still had good power on all the short punchy climbs and didn't experience even the slightest cramping. Maybe I'm getting better at metering these long efforts, or maybe it's the flask of pickle juice that I started nursing around the 3 hour mark? <br />
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Doing the math, I could tell that the last hour was going to be tough. I needed to average around 17 mph to slip in under 6 hours. I kept telling myself that I was supposed to feel crappy by this point compared to the last effort as I already had done the big climb. The finish line was the outhouse by the Potash Road. <br />
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On the final rise, I laid down all my remaining watts, which by this point weren't that many. With a short and fast downhill to my finish line, I still had a couple minutes to spare. I coasted with glee, glad to be done with the torture and stopped my watch at 5:59:30. To my knowledge, that's the fastest complete White Rim, but as always there are a ton of people that could or maybe have gone faster. It's a big claim, but I'm a big claimer so I'll take it for now. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near where I started and finished. </td></tr>
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Breathing a sigh of relief, I picked up my long sleeve jersey where I left it and started to cruise easy back up the climb to my car. Within five minutes of soft pedaling, I was going cross eyed and bonking hard. I got off the bike and laid in the dirt for a few minutes. Somehow, in my excitement earlier, I forgot to stash any food or water for after the TT. <br />
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I alternated walking and laying in the dirt for the next hour and a half and finally, 1:54 after finishing my TT, crested the Shafer climb for the second time. This "cool down" took significantly longer than the 27 minutes earlier that morning. It also was much much more difficult and a fitting end to a painfully beautiful day in the desert. <br />
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SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-9118134735215893902016-11-28T16:49:00.000-07:002016-11-28T16:49:01.892-07:00Mount Owen: April 18, 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My last ski day of the 2015/16 season was spectacular, albeit humbling. Jason and I had plans to climb and ski Mount Owen via the Koven Couloir. The day started somber for no reason in particular but both of us had a sense of foreboding that wouldn't lift until we eventually made the decision to go home. </div>
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Preoccupied with morbid thoughts, objective hazards grew in our minds and it felt kind of like I was walking through a nightmare even though this is a place I have dreamed of fondly numerous times. With blistered feet, we made our way into the Koven and eventually onto the the upper snowfields. </div>
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The day was actually incredibly beautiful with swirling clouds flowing around the cathedral group but we were just now noticing it, having been stuck in our own heads thus far. Normally, when one of us is out of sorts, the other will buoy the mood and all is good. This day, at least until this point nearing the technical climbing, we were reflecting each other's moodiness. </div>
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The Koven chimneys are incredibly easy on dry rock but we suspected the summit would prove more challenging in winter conditions. Fortunately, as we climbed, we both found ourselves enjoying the motion and setting enough that some legitimate psych started to creep in. Jason took the first lead up a snow covered rock slab, scraping around and dispatching it without difficulty. Higher and on the west side of the summit block now, I took the lead and began to feel quite lucky to be scrambling around in such an amazing position. I heaved myself up the chimneys and onto the summit before laughing at Jason as he followed. </div>
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We high-fived on the summit and then got about the business of rapping down to our skis. Immediately the buoyancy felt while climbing dissipated and I was once again consumed with thoughts of tragedy. I pictured Jason falling to his death a thousand times. Gravity was strong. </div>
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It's amazing how one's mood can affect their skiing. Full of irrational fear, I skied poorly down the snowfields towards the Koven. I tried to overcome this by forcing myself to ski the steep upper pitches but only succeeding in pulling out a small wind pocket that broke out at my feet. </div>
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I'd had enough. I was going to down climb the upper somewhat wind loaded section until I felt better about the stability. I then dropped a ski and watched in horror as it launched down the Koven. Gravity was strong and I would now be down climbing 5000 feet to the car. </div>
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As if someone was just messing with me, Jason skied down and yelled up that my ski had stuck into a small snowbank on the side of the chute some 200 feet below. Feeling redeemed, I gathered my equipment, and skied straight to the car. </div>
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As if someone was still messing with me, I discovered far too late that a small crash near Delta Lake must have claimed my iPhone from an open pocket. It was a small price to pay for safe passage on my final ski day of the season. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD skinning the upper snowfields of Mount Owen with Teewinot in the background. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason only looks dejected here but by this point we were quite happy</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glad we didn't insist on bringing skis to the summit</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming off rappel with the North Face of the Grand looming in the clouds</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD with East Prong and the lower Koven above his head. </td></tr>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-83373691515963750642016-11-27T17:57:00.000-07:002016-11-28T17:57:55.452-07:00Last Spring in the Sierra<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
After the incredible day on Temple Crag, we knew we weren't going to top that with the two days remaining on the trip. Zoomed in photos of the majority of our objectives revealed that the snowpack was just too beleaguered to be productive in the southern part of the range. Hoping for some local's beta, we remembered that Dale Apgar was still in Bishop and he immediately dropped his plans for the day and took us on a tour up University Peak. </div>
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As always, the company was as good as the views. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nearing the summit of University Peak (photo by JD)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finding a little sneak chute (photo by JD)</td></tr>
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The next day, we made the long slog over Lamarck Col to check out the Mendal Couloir on its namesake peak. We were foolishly hopeful that it would be in condition (apparently this occurs a few times a decade) but wisely had planned other options in the area. </div>
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From the col, I could zoom in with my camera and it was obvious the Mendal was in better climbing condition than skiing. Mounts Darwin and Lamarck made for fine alternatives. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mendal Couloir in slim condition. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nearing the summit of Mount Darwin</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I took the sporty route</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TG dropping in</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is a lifetime of amazing skiing potential in just this one basin!</td></tr>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-84570262032296051672016-05-27T13:41:00.000-06:002016-05-27T13:41:30.890-06:00Temple Crag North Couloir <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Just one week after skiing in the Palisades, we packed up again and made the drive across Nevada to the ski mountaineering mecca of the Sierra. On our previous trip, we had spied this stunning line on the north side of Temple Crag, a peak that is much better known for its climbing potential than skiing. We could only find obscure references to the North Couloir as an alpine climb with a reported pitch or two of WI 4/5 and steep snow. The photo below was enough to jump it to number one on our hit list. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Temple Crag and its North Couloir</td></tr>
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We got a pseudo alpine start, avoided getting lost, and soon found ourselves booting up the apron and into this tight recess with soaring granite all around us. The snow was boot top powder and the position was better than we could have imagined. We were excited yet apprehensive because of the unknown climbing ahead of us. </div>
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Our rack was small and while we haven't climbed much lately, I was feeling unusually sendy. I claimed the lead and with Jason belaying, made slow but steady progress to a natural stance on the right side of the steep wall that separates the lower and upper chute. There, out of gear and feeling proud, I tapped out and set up a belay to bring the boys up. Jason would have to finish the job after he seconded with two pairs of skis on his pack!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Booting up the lower couloir (photo by Jason Dorais)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leading up the first pitch (photo by Tom Goth)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason and I each took turns doing the dirty work of climbing with two sets of skis in tight quarters</td></tr>
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The second pitch was shorter but probably represented the technical crux with some steep face moves that were marginally protected. Jason had some doubts, but ultimately sent it with aplomb. Once reconvened above the cliff band, we were completely blown away by the setting, snow, lighting, and overall position. I think we all could sense how lucky we were to be there and we hadn't even started skiing yet. </div>
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Above the cliff band, there is a Y in the chute, with the left fork taking a more direct shot to the summit. Since summits matter, we intended to follow it to the top but after a few hundred vertical, it became clear that we would not be skiing from anywhere near the summit. The summit block was nothing but rock so we clicked in and skied back to the confluence below to investigate the more aesthetic right or direct branch. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Skiing back to the confluence (photo by Jason Dorais)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Jason Dorais</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason skiing the left fork with the non skiable summit block above</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TG</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD</td></tr>
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This direct branch, continued upward for hundreds more vertical feet and passed over two or three lesser rock bands, which in a bigger snow year would be completely covered. Although, mostly in the shade, the air was calm and the work of breaking trail in now knee deep powder kept us warm. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason, looking down the main chute from the confluence</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About 3/4 of the way up (photo by Jason Dorais)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Jason Dorais</td></tr>
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Topping out the chute, we basked in the Sierra sun for a while and enjoyed our position. We were about to ski one of the most striking features any of us had ever seen. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD topping out</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TG, letting gravity finally take over</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD from the top</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was tight but the snow was perfect. (Photo by Jason Dorais)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD skiing through a Sierra hallway</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About half way down the angle eased off for a bit (photo by Jason Dorais)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then it steepened again just before the cliff/rappels (photo by Jason Dorais)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The turns below the rap may have been the coolest of the trip. (photo by Jason Dorais)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TG below the rap </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Free to finally open it up below the cliff. (photo by Jason Dorais)</td></tr>
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This may have been my most enjoyable day in the mountains...ever. Good partners, good snow, good weather, and a pretty damn good line make for really good ski mountaineering. </div>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-71586360868851231292016-04-12T10:48:00.001-06:002016-04-12T10:48:20.023-06:00The Palisades<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It seems the weather has been plotting against us lately by dumping snow during our time off when we want to be skiing bigger lines. Conversely, during our work weeks when we’d appreciate frequent refreshers, it always seems to be high and dry. On my iPhone, I keep tabs on the weather in various mountain communities throughout the west. I have icons for Leadville, Bishop, Lee Vining, Golden, Jackson, Moab, Aspen, and Anchorage. Fortunately, we have friends in some of these towns that can tell us what the conditions are like on the ground but sometimes we have to rely on what the computers tell us. Last week, with mostly unsettled weather throughout the west, there was one area of strong sun, mellow winds, and amazing mountains - the Sierra Nevada. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">By the time we tidied up our work responsibilities and got the OK from our lady friends, our adventure window had shrunk to a mere 36 hours. Being foolish and possessing innate truck driving abilities, we decided to make a pilgrimage to the Sierra to see how much we could ski and see in one day. We left Salt Lake at 3:30 in the afternoon and while I drove, Tom and Jason hit the internet hard to try and find a suitable objective. I peppered them with requests to find out which roads were open into the range, to check the current snowpack percentages, and to do research on certain lines we wanted to ski. In the end, we decided to either head into Whitney Portal or go explore the Palisades. We’d sleep on it and decide in the morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Speaking of sleep, our options were a roach motel, sleeping out at the yet-to-be-determined trailhead, or phone a friend. We chose the latter. Graham Kolb is a former climbing partner who now resides in Bishop with his long suffering gal, Anne. He still crushes the juice from granite crimpers, and while I haven’t climbed with him in years, I called and left a message saying we were rolling through town. He called back and also left a message saying that he didn’t recognize my voice but that since I knew his name and that he lives in Bishop, we were welcome to crash at his house. What a guy!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">With their deluxe pad to launch, we hastily packed and set the alarms for four hours later. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the dark, at about 7400 feet, we started hiking on dirt in our ski boots. That was the first of many mistakes that would come back to bite us later, Tom most of all. We tried to follow the South Fork of Big Pine Creek but were quickly entangled in the densest, thorniest, brush imaginable. Jason lost his Julbos, and having experienced snow blindness once before, halted to find them. Eventually, we broke through the briars and started linking up small patches of snow before switching to skins after an hour of hiking. We had gained maybe 500 feet by this point. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We kick turned our way up a headwall, excited to get a glimpse of our main objective for the day. We had hoped to climb and ski the NE face of the Middle Palisade but our hopes were dashed when at first glance. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our desired line definitely wasn't "in". </td></tr>
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Fortunately, the Palisade region is dense in worthy ski mountaineering objectives and part of our goal for the day was to familiarize ourselves with the terrain anyway. <br />
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At this point, we took a relaxed approach to the remained of the still young day and decided to just hike around and ski whatever appealed to us in the moment. Heading north toward the Palisade Crest and up the Norman Clyde Glacier, we saw a nice looking chute that drew us in for a look.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were dozens of sweet consolation prizes like the North Couloir on Norman Clyde Peak.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD nearing the top of the Norman Clyde Chute</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by JD</td></tr>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GMeqc6gf2EQ/VwxzGzC-JoI/AAAAAAAAJ7Y/0PFgpV2-JhM4NoH1BNQhCVnaW96Q7UUQQCLcB/s1600/2S3A1786.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GMeqc6gf2EQ/VwxzGzC-JoI/AAAAAAAAJ7Y/0PFgpV2-JhM4NoH1BNQhCVnaW96Q7UUQQCLcB/s640/2S3A1786.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by JD</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">TG dropping in and delighting in the surprising Sierra powder. <br /> </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by JD</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little JD</td></tr>
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We were completely surprised by the cold soft powder and pretty psyched that we weren't sweating and getting sunburned as we thought would be the case. <br />
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Once out of the cold north chute, the good feelings didn't last long. Stripped to T-shirts and with sweat stinging our eyes, we made a navigational error and cliffed out while trying to traverse over to Mount Sill. <br />
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We sat down and actually ate lunch.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xu1EzEZ8EZc/Vw0g4iYM2wI/AAAAAAAAJ9M/g73o9yKHWZg3v_8x8TE4gbnJJpvswCyeQCLcB/s1600/DSC00894.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xu1EzEZ8EZc/Vw0g4iYM2wI/AAAAAAAAJ9M/g73o9yKHWZg3v_8x8TE4gbnJJpvswCyeQCLcB/s640/DSC00894.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Eventually, we became motivated to continue exploring so we backtracked and skied sloppy corn before traversing over toward Mount Sill. With the day getting on and a long drive ahead of us, we made hast of the climb and got a look down onto the Palisade Glacier and its surrounding peaks. High on the North Face of Sill, we found a rocky sneak into the North Couloir. The skiing was mediocre but the setting sublime. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Booting up Sill. Photo by JD</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by JD</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by JD</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by JD </td></tr>
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We debated for a few minutes trying to blast up the V Notch but it was already 4:30 Mountain time and I had a hard deadline of being home by 5 AM. It was already going to be close so we decided to save the Notches for another trip.<br />
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On the way out we added about a dozen other lines to the list. We also found out that I'm the only one with balls in the group as the others walked around the clearly frozen albeit slightly slushy lake. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by JD</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one would lure us back...</td></tr>
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Since we were making a loop, we didn't know the North Fork exit which led to a few wrong turns before finding the trail. We also didn't have shoes for the three or four miles of dirt. It wasn't that big of a deal, except Tom's carbon boots were apt to break and being a size too small, were crushing his feet. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom is starting to hate life by this point. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the approach in the dark, we somehow managed to get lost in the only patch of trees up this wide open basin. </td></tr>
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Ultimately, we made it home at 3:15 AM with plenty of time to spare! </div>
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Total time was just under 36 hours door to door and it was completely worth it. The Sierra just might be the best range in the lower 48 for ski mountaineering. </div>
SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-5282573136082499482016-03-20T12:05:00.002-06:002016-03-20T12:05:39.845-06:00The White Baldy Ramp<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
The hanging ramp on the north face of White Baldy has always interested me but I have always been en route to other objectives when in the area. Last week, I had a short window before work and it seemed to fit the timeline. Thankfully, Matt Galland was willing to wake up in the dark to also accommodate my schedule. </div>
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Once above the ramp, I was actually excited as it's reminiscent of a mini Otterbody snow field minus the rappels, the degree of steepness, and the grand scale of the Grand. Nevertheless, it still gives one the experience of skiing out into space. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking down from the top</td></tr>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-20311821753670736632016-03-17T14:34:00.001-06:002016-03-17T14:34:30.606-06:00Big Provo Ramps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There's a gorgeous ramp down into Big Provo Cirque that we've been eyeing for years. It's hard to get to and is really short so I guess we never really thought it was worth the effort. Well, it's nice to be wrong. </div>
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Jason and I were joined by Tom Goth and Matt Galland for what turned out to be one of the cooler, albeit short ski descents we've done in the Wasatch. Actually, Matt missed out as he kindly stayed perched above some cliffs to shoot photos of us in the chute. I'll add those soon...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD looking for the mystery chute</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom Goth taking the fun way to the chute in the background</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The top was STEEP and measured at 58 degrees. Here's Tom peering over the edge into nothing. </td></tr>
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Beta: We started in Dry Canyon from Lindon. We were on dirt for a couple miles before dropping into the gully to the climber's right of the trail. That will ascend to the summit ridge but the chute is still 400 meters to the south. Alternatively, one could ascend past Stewart Falls into Big Provo Cirque or climb any of the other chutes from the SW. </div>
<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-20099398613989011892016-03-10T20:48:00.000-07:002016-03-10T20:48:27.441-07:00Red Castle Peak - Uintas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Jason and I both had the week off but weather and plans never materialized. We were itching for some adventure and at the last minute, I hatched the idea of obtaining a snow mobile to go check out some rugged terrain in the Uintas. Jason was on board immediately and Lars, after some convincing, finally agreed. What's with that guy? </div>
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I picked up a rental sled from Trax Power Sports in Woods Cross on Friday evening in between making a million trips between our old house and new house to complete an annoying move. At the shop, I watched (and sort of helped) two burly dudes muscle the sled into the back of Jason's little truck. I wasn't sure how we'd manage out in the wild but I've been bailed out of sticky situations by burly men before and we figured we'd figure it out or ask for help. </div>
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With a 4 AM wake up it was going to be a long day. Little did we know, we had about 20 miles of flat skinning in store making for a much much longer day than planned. </div>
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We decided on the fly while looking at Gaia Maps and Google images in the car to go check out Red Castle Peak. At least on the map, there looked to be some promising couloirs that we made our goal for the day. </div>
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The snow mobile fired right up and we were soon riding deep into the Uintas northern slope. Jason was on the back and Lars was towing on skis. He only asked me to slow down once on the 8 mile ride over frozen tracks. </div>
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Arriving at China Meadows TH, we could see two sets of sled tracks ignoring the wilderness designation and the sign that plainly stated that snow mobiles were not allowed. Lacking the same disregard, we parked the sled and started slogging. </div>
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The map hinted at an eight mile approach but reality was more like eleven. Somewhere along the way, I realized that if we were to return the sled on time and make it home for dinner as promised, we wouldn't be able to ski anything. I made a decision for the group that we would pay late fees and piss off our wives in the name of adventure and steep skiing. There wasn't really any discussion as Jason and Lars were thinking similar thoughts of mischief. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching the Castle after two hours of flat skinning. </td></tr>
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We were horrified to see that our first two choices of chutes were blown free of any substantial amount of snow. All that remained was red talus. Quite disheartened, we chalked up the day as good recon and started walking up the talus to at least gain some vert and perspective on the place. Topping out the dry chute, the mood changed in an instant as we discovered a cirque with a half dozen amazing chutes. With any sense and planning, we would have been able to discern that recent 100 + mph winds from the west would result in exactly what we accidentally discovered. Sometimes it's more fun to go in blind.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Option B didn't look any better </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason really wanted to go skiing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Topping out the dry NW facing chute, we finally found snow.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason looking down our first chute of the day. </td></tr>
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I convinced the guys that anything would be better than the chute we just climbed and scrambled over to get a better look at a promising weakness in the cliff below us. Finally, our luck changed and I got a clean glimpse of a nice sustained chute through the red rock. I was also realizing that this was just one of many other worthy chutes in the cirque. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lars, happy to be on snow instead of rock. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD working to the entrance of the chute. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD </td></tr>
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At the bottom of the first chute, I think we had all planned on skiing straight back to the car but one quick look around convinced us all to revise our timeline. We gave ourselves thirty more minutes to climb one of the many tempting chutes in the cirque. </div>
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Amazingly, the out was just barely downhill enough that with a lot of double poling, we were able to ski seven of the ten miles and made it back to the sled in half the time it took on the approach.<br />
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Also amazingly, we managed to rig up our skis and ride with all three of us on the snow mobile back to the truck, where a snow bank made for the perfect ramp to drive it right into the bed. We aren't very good at power assisted adventures, but I'm intrigued by the possibilities. </div>
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We made it home only four hours late. </div>
<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-83176826806891247862016-03-08T23:08:00.001-07:002016-03-08T23:08:18.099-07:00Some Grunge Parties We spent a few days last week on the north end of Timp, playing around in some no name couloirs and tagging the Grunge a couple times. The first outing was in our typical weekend style - early, efficient, and ultimately always short on time. The guys rallied though and were understanding of my need to get home for family duties. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom at the top of the unnamed couloir on the north end of Timp</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Lars</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom taking the fall line into the darkness</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lars</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YCNNYqpiBj0/Vt-5BVmtF5I/AAAAAAAAJzg/qnNN-I_D5Ro/s1600/DSC02059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YCNNYqpiBj0/Vt-5BVmtF5I/AAAAAAAAJzg/qnNN-I_D5Ro/s640/DSC02059.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bart has the best bike handling skills of anyone I know. He's not bad on skis either!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grunge Party!</td></tr>
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We went back for round two with speedy photographer, Louis Arevalo for a photo shoot of the SCARPA F1, which will be released again in North America next season. Also working as foot models were my brother, Andrew McLean and Noah Howell. My feet didn't feel worthy! It was a fun day with all of us taking pictures of the guy taking pictures of the next guy. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We bumped into Billy Haas and Colby while heading up. It's fun to watch those guys ski.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noah taking a photo of Andrew's turn</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noah's turn</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason's turn </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noah, working hard to get the shot. </td></tr>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-24233211630404147462016-02-25T17:17:00.001-07:002016-02-25T17:17:21.976-07:00North Timp<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm off Nebo and back on Timp. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matt Galland near the North Summit</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Closer to the summit</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lars on the summit</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">6000 feet to go</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_661162966"></span><span id="goog_661162967"></span><br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-67220544217379263292016-02-18T14:24:00.000-07:002016-02-18T14:24:17.492-07:00Pfeifferhorn North Ridge to East Ridge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Noah, Jason and I went up to climb the North Ridge of the Pfeiff again in an attempt to escape the heat and the funky snow down low. We thought about skiing the NE or NW or some of the other adventurous routes on the peak but after a thoroughly enjoyable scramble, we were content to ski the East Ridge as it held the most appetizing snow. </div>
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It turned out that with 50 mph gusts from the south, the North Ridge was the perfect choice for the day. We were totally sheltered until the final steps to the summit where we were almost blown back down whence we came. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lower ridge after gaining the small saddle between Maybird and Hogum</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Windows of the Wasatch</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD testing out the rubber on his boots. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The boys approaching the crux moves</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bomber hand jams can be found amongst the death blocks</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Expecting ice, a skiff of soft wind blown snow was welcome on the down. </td></tr>
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SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-26758822439182505462016-02-18T14:10:00.004-07:002016-02-18T14:10:43.104-07:00Timp Photos<br />
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Last week I mentioned on Instagram that Mount Nebo might be my new favorite peak in the Wasatch. The prolific Derek Weiss commented, "Nebo is the new Timp. Timp is pissed!" Trying to keep all the ladies happy, we went and gave Timp a little attention, first on the south end and then another day on the north end. </div>
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From Provo Canyon, we fought the scrub oak until finding clean passage through a chute to the long ridge above Lost Canyon. By this time, the day seemed to have gotten away from us and we bailed on grander plans to ski some corn, then some mank and then some shrubs before walking back to the car. A nice meal at Fong Asian Diner completed the morning. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing a soggy chute on Timp's south end</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cascade's impressive North Face with Noah Howell looking small on the ridge. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matt Galland above his home turf</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smoggy days</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason skiing before things got nasty</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">The exit was actually pretty fun<br /></td></tr>
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Early this week, we had plans to ski some low elevation lines but with the recent warming making everything too sloppy, we made a semi early start from American Fork Canyon. Intent on skiing something on the north end of Timp, we skinned forever on the flat road before being drawn toward the Grunge. Plastered in rime, there was no way to pass it up. </div>
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We climbed the nice access chute to the top of the huge Grunge apron before getting a little spooked by some huge wind slabs and the massive cornice guarding the top of the chute. We turned it around and capped the morning with a nice lunch at Thai Basil in Cottonwood Heights. Live to ski. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near the top of the access chute</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Grunge</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little ramp ends above a cliff but I had Jason ski it anyway for the pictures. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matt</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD</td></tr>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-47813771164414400852016-02-16T22:22:00.002-07:002016-02-16T22:22:41.113-07:00The Storm Drain - A Wasatch Classic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
They say emulation is the highest form of flattery. Well, last Saturday, Bart, Lars, Jason and I decided to follow in the ski tracks of Noah, Ben and Matt to see if their new line on Storm Mountain was worth the hype. </div>
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Like most of us that are into this sort of ridiculousness, I have stared at Storm Mountain while driving down Big Cottonwood and always wondered if there was a secret passage down its imposing northeast face. Others have tried and apparently, a guy named Bill Hunt, who was WAY way out there in the late 90s made a similar descent on a snowboard...SOLO! </div>
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On Thursday, I skied with Noah on Timp. On the drive home he mentioned he was going for the NE Face with Matt Primomo on Friday. I was working so wished him luck and Jason had a date with another guy back on Timp. We anxiously awaited the updates. </div>
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We didn't have to wait long as with the crazy technology of iPhones and the LTE service now available all throughout BCC, the guys were "live gramming" their descent. At work, in between patients, I found myself sneaking out my phone to see their progress. Photos from the summit, at rap stations, and skiing steep chutes started trickling in. The final one of the guys at Lone Star mowing on tacos was the kicker. I now had plans for Saturday. </div>
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Originally, we had planned on heading back to Utah County but worked up in a frenzy about the Storm Drain, gathered some tat and cord and rallied up Ferguson before sun up. In my mind, I envisioned a dozen other parties vying for a possible second descent and the paranoia was high. Pulling into the Ferguson parking area without any other cars present, I had a huge smile the others couldn't see in the dark. </div>
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The trail up Ferguson is steep and slick but we made it unscathed, except when I nearly knocked myself out with my pole. Blowing snot rockets with a pole in the operating hand is dangerous while walking through a forest. The tip of the pole (which was pointed straight out) hit a tree and jammed my hand into my eye, which is now slightly blackened. At least it made the others laugh. Otherwise, out of the inversion and into the light of day, we were pretty psyched to make quick travel on the other guys icy skin track. </div>
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On the summit in 1:30 or so, I suggested that once we got out of the drain, we link up Stairs for a BCC All Star link up. It all seemed so possible. Then we started skiing. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A summit Dew </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't remember what Jason was laughing about but Bart says a lot of funny stuff. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uFROOBjMxKE/VsPAQTOm6FI/AAAAAAAAJr4/m8lOITljgyQ/s1600/DSC00683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uFROOBjMxKE/VsPAQTOm6FI/AAAAAAAAJr4/m8lOITljgyQ/s640/DSC00683.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were all wondering if this hair brained line actually goes. </td></tr>
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Dropping off the summit, the slope angle was dramatically different from our ascent route. It still felt somewhat careless since we were following the other's tracks but an estimated 50 degrees above big cliffs kept our attention. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EFQcpQZFrj8/VsPDgCvaRaI/AAAAAAAAJtQ/ZZxkp9ctSW0/s1600/DSC00705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EFQcpQZFrj8/VsPDgCvaRaI/AAAAAAAAJtQ/ZZxkp9ctSW0/s640/DSC00705.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The upper section is a steep tree lined gully above the first rappel. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DyBU3tez7JM/VsPDfaqGWXI/AAAAAAAAJtM/GS0auwsR7VY/s1600/DSC00717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DyBU3tez7JM/VsPDfaqGWXI/AAAAAAAAJtM/GS0auwsR7VY/s640/DSC00717.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching the first rap. </td></tr>
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We were all surprised by how far we actually skied before we reached the first rap station. We were also really surprised by how steep the whole line felt. Looking down, it felt like the road was right below us instead of off in the distance as we would expect. <div>
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The upper chute was soft but the snow was a little funky having set up a bit from the descent the previous day. Things got really funky when we came upon a little ice bulge just above the first rap station. For the bold, it's just a little air. But, coming immediately above a two hundred foot cliff, we all lacked the gumption to go for it. Side stepping over ice and slab, we each made our way through safely. Lars brought up the rear and we warned him that with all the snow scraped away, it was getting more difficult with each passage. He opted to grope some trees on the way down instead. <br /><div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fVTx6TK0v_E/VsPAZpixaYI/AAAAAAAAJr8/Abc4_Pz31to/s1600/DSC00735.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fVTx6TK0v_E/VsPAZpixaYI/AAAAAAAAJr8/Abc4_Pz31to/s640/DSC00735.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just above the big tree with the rap sling, there were some little trees that Lars molested. The alternative was the faintly visible ice bulge that felt really sketchy once all the snow had been scraped away. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qCMu7weC-IY/VsPAhGLDz3I/AAAAAAAAJsE/FwSQxMpaSEo/s1600/DSC00749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qCMu7weC-IY/VsPAhGLDz3I/AAAAAAAAJsE/FwSQxMpaSEo/s640/DSC00749.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lars loves em and leaves em behind. </td></tr>
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We rigged the ropes and sent Bart down to find the next set of anchors. Armed with Noah's beta, we figured this would take about 45 seconds. About 45 minutes later, Bart had scrambled back up enough to safely go off rappel while I came down to look above his position, thinking he had simply missed them on the way down. En route, I found a decent tree and set up a mid mid station rap. Turns out our static 5 mm cord didn't stretch the extra 10 feet needed to reach the actual mid rap station. <br /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r1o4VBMnQ54/VsPAcCmSNMI/AAAAAAAAJsA/ejkrxArX_Ug/s1600/DSC00770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r1o4VBMnQ54/VsPAcCmSNMI/AAAAAAAAJsA/ejkrxArX_Ug/s640/DSC00770.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bart rapped first expecting to easily find the next anchor given Noah's beta. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9L2XPgmoIQs/VsPAj0usl5I/AAAAAAAAJsM/h-OnE8qI0gY/s1600/DSC00776.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9L2XPgmoIQs/VsPAj0usl5I/AAAAAAAAJsM/h-OnE8qI0gY/s640/DSC00776.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason coming into our mid point anchor as our ropes didn't reach. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_uDE7wUyfO8/VsPAjFCvq-I/AAAAAAAAJsI/_yeqh7AnwV8/s1600/DSC00786.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_uDE7wUyfO8/VsPAjFCvq-I/AAAAAAAAJsI/_yeqh7AnwV8/s640/DSC00786.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bart continuing down hoping the ropes reach this time. </td></tr>
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But once we got to the actual mid rap station left by the other guys, we once again were surprised to find a hanging stance with a little cave. Fitting four guys and gear on one sling and in the cave was like playing twister with man parts and skis. Eventually we untangled ourselves and resumed skiing. <br /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9IccITses5A/VsPApW2bS8I/AAAAAAAAJsQ/I47VB5MG-Yg/s1600/DSC00806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9IccITses5A/VsPApW2bS8I/AAAAAAAAJsQ/I47VB5MG-Yg/s640/DSC00806.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We made it to what was supposed to be the second rap and were surprised to find a hanging station outside this little cave. Bart is hidden as we smashed him in the back. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IKr77vVFcQ4/VsPArmHed9I/AAAAAAAAJsU/eM2TwlEUtfw/s1600/DSC00827.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IKr77vVFcQ4/VsPArmHed9I/AAAAAAAAJsU/eM2TwlEUtfw/s640/DSC00827.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lars looking to see where the hell we can start skiing again. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-05PVBptsku8/VsPBC077g0I/AAAAAAAAJsk/PO2Zf08y8tM/s1600/DSC00834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-05PVBptsku8/VsPBC077g0I/AAAAAAAAJsk/PO2Zf08y8tM/s640/DSC00834.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Once again our ropes were a little short but made it this time. Barely. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KLtrpUAxZTY/VsPA-Rm56MI/AAAAAAAAJsg/mTaYnuGzldg/s1600/DSC00838.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KLtrpUAxZTY/VsPA-Rm56MI/AAAAAAAAJsg/mTaYnuGzldg/s640/DSC00838.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason on the hanging ramp between the two chutes. </td></tr>
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This hanging ramp, separated by the two chutes by rappels was one of the best parts of the line. It's only a couple hundred feet long, but it's steep and we really felt like we were in the middle of a good adventure by this point. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-26U-RQWezdo/VsPBM5Z5H7I/AAAAAAAAJss/OAD5ie-yT1g/s1600/DSC00878.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-26U-RQWezdo/VsPBM5Z5H7I/AAAAAAAAJss/OAD5ie-yT1g/s640/DSC00878.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last one to freedom</td></tr>
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Hitting the snow after the third rap was joyous. We could suddenly ski with more aggression and quit worrying about rope length and falling off of cliffs. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6WhmJ0u6hvI/VsPBJiWBpuI/AAAAAAAAJso/dASNlZcepBc/s1600/DSC00895.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6WhmJ0u6hvI/VsPBJiWBpuI/AAAAAAAAJso/dASNlZcepBc/s640/DSC00895.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were all psyched to put the ropes away. I told Bart to make his turns pretty since he had three cameras trained on him. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BSSRw0DN36o/VsPBOVlkOPI/AAAAAAAAJsw/Fq1hpflm2DI/s1600/DSC00952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BSSRw0DN36o/VsPBOVlkOPI/AAAAAAAAJsw/Fq1hpflm2DI/s640/DSC00952.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm sure Lars is heckling Jason right here. </td></tr>
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This last chute was actually quite a bit longer than we all anticipated and by the time we hit the road, we were all a little bit late getting home. Well, some of us were very late and others just slightly annoyingly late. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lBnaBC-8D2I/VsPBSBamOGI/AAAAAAAAJs0/nzMmZ7fOwms/s1600/DSC00983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lBnaBC-8D2I/VsPBSBamOGI/AAAAAAAAJs0/nzMmZ7fOwms/s640/DSC00983.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's hard to believe that there's a 3000 foot line hidden in there. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-we9Ld41feMo/VsPBT7xVfdI/AAAAAAAAJs4/gkLMudw74ew/s1600/DSC00984.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-we9Ld41feMo/VsPBT7xVfdI/AAAAAAAAJs4/gkLMudw74ew/s640/DSC00984.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back on solid ground and into the smog. </td></tr>
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I have to credit Noah Howell, Ben Peters, and Matt Primomo for not only coming up with a really adventurous line right in our backyard but also for freely sharing the beta and providing a wonderfully steep skin track up Ferguson Canyon. </div>
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Noah called this an instant Wasatch Classic and it most definitely is. That is, if you are slightly deranged and your definition of classic is more synonymous with crazy!</div>
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We loved every second of it. <br /><br /></div>
SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-91998948969443912882016-02-15T10:35:00.000-07:002016-02-15T10:35:10.011-07:00Exploring Nebo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Last week Noah was on a kick to ski something new to him every day. With a pretty open schedule mid week, I joined for a couple adventures to the Mount Nebo area. He'd had his eye on a dense patch of chutes for a while and this was the excuse to suss em out. Unfortunately, they were all a little tighter and shorter than we'd hoped but the area is still pretty cool. Noah dubbed it the Garden of Skiden. </div>
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We thought we would shoot up the chute to the looker's left of the big patch of trees at the bottom left of the photo below, ski a few lines, and move on to the summit. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z6DwhX2_8sQ/VsEMO75klaI/AAAAAAAAJqI/M88_l9nvzWc/s1600/DSC00047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z6DwhX2_8sQ/VsEMO75klaI/AAAAAAAAJqI/M88_l9nvzWc/s640/DSC00047.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Garden of Skiden. We ended up skiing the bigger chute on the looker's left. </td></tr>
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An hour and a measly five hundred feet later, we were topping out, pissed off and soaked from battling the steep faceted snow pack. Jason called to check on our progress and simply stated, "You guys are slow." Maybe, but at least we were about to ski. </div>
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After a quick game of "rock, paper, scissors" I landed the job of photographer while Noah won the chance to ski first. In the photo below, we spied an entrance ramp and he went for it, completely surprised that it was almost flat as evidenced by his track. Keeping with the biblical theme, Noah is referring to this one as Eve. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noah in Eve's tenderloin</td></tr>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Gc2q7R8hG8/VsEMXfYFleI/AAAAAAAAJqQ/NM7AU0SNst0/s1600/DSC00155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Gc2q7R8hG8/VsEMXfYFleI/AAAAAAAAJqQ/NM7AU0SNst0/s640/DSC00155.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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By this point, I was interested in checking out some of the higher elevation terrain and Noah obliged. We headed up a nice slide path that bisects the ridge coming directly off the summit to the northwest. On the way up, I was captivated by all the weird towers and chutes across the basin. </div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OsgYl9lATq0/VsEMGFE2TlI/AAAAAAAAJqA/AaQFVC1Hn3A/s1600/DSC00052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OsgYl9lATq0/VsEMGFE2TlI/AAAAAAAAJqA/AaQFVC1Hn3A/s640/DSC00052.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R9ZhXb7_KUg/VsEMjhfJY9I/AAAAAAAAJqY/cbMp2uEdz-w/s1600/DSC00198.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R9ZhXb7_KUg/VsEMjhfJY9I/AAAAAAAAJqY/cbMp2uEdz-w/s640/DSC00198.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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At the top of the slide path, we were tempted to continue on to the summit, but five hundred vertical feet of rocky ridge walking didn't make sense so we transitioned and skied the 2500 foot line back to the bowel below the Garden. By now the sun was getting low so we kept the rally going and skied the remaining 3500 plus feet back to the car in surprisingly good snow. </div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zOFajVV1UHs/VsEMkegF-5I/AAAAAAAAJqc/1BV9floKX2w/s1600/DSC00215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zOFajVV1UHs/VsEMkegF-5I/AAAAAAAAJqc/1BV9floKX2w/s640/DSC00215.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noah near the high point of a fun line he's calling Genesis .</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dropping into the Genesis</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back up at Genesis</td></tr>
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The next morning at 5:30, we were again pulling out of my driveway, this time with a sleeping viking in the back seat. I was on a tight schedule to get home for a rare lunch date so I convinced Lars and Noah to join for a mad dash trip back to Nebo since our skin track was mostly in. <br />
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We mad quick work into the great bowel below the main summit and worked our way up the Champagne Couloir as our first option for the day looked a little boney. The upper Champagne was a little boney for that matter but there was just enough. The last time I had skied it, I didn't see a thing in a white out. It was almost like skiing it for the first time. <br />
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I also couldn't get Kanye's "So appalled" out of my head with the lyric "Champagne wishes". It's not a good song to have on repeat. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lars near the top of the Champagne</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noah </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Into the sun</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lars from the top of the skiable section</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noah getting into the rhythm </td></tr>
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After leap frogging a bit in the chute, we started to open it up and ended up skiing almost the whole shot to the car without stopping. This worked well as I needed to be home around noon and we made it to the car at 11:06. We would probably have been more on schedule if it weren't for the horrendous skiing on the exit road which the day before had been perfect powder. Instead, it was a death defying luge of frozen tracks and breakable crust. A couple attempts to scrub speed on my part, led to chaotic crashes, including one crater where I inadvertently left my glasses. Oh well, the mountains give and take and Nebo gave a lot more over those two days than she took. </div>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-35022794614819207062016-02-07T22:55:00.002-07:002016-02-07T23:02:48.979-07:00Wheeler and Jeff Davis Peaks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
With Jason's coccyx still being somewhat painful, we bailed on plans to traverse the Oquirrhs again and succumbed to the allure of exploring new terrain and skiing in the desert. Unfortunately, we blew the week powder skiing and just had Saturday with a soft deadline of being home around dinner. </div>
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None of us had skied in Great Basin National Park so we set the alarms for the middle of the night and left my house at 4 AM. After a pit stop at Maverick to start our adventure off right and another at the deluxe bathrooms at the visitor's center, we were skinning in puffy jackets by eight o'clock. </div>
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We were pleasantly surprised to find a skin track from the plowed parking area that roughly followed the three and a half mile trail to the top of the scenic road. From there, we contoured around on mellow gullies and ridges to the summit of Wheeler Peak. By the time we were approaching the summit and looking into the massive cirque abundant with towers and couloirs, any lingering grogginess had evaporated and we were psyched to go skiing. The only problem was the lack of snow due to what must be some truly wicked prevailing winds. </div>
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We were blessed however, with a bluebird day and nary a breath of wind. On the summit, our plans to ski back toward the cirque changed when we looked down to the south. These slopes had better coverage and looked long and sustained. </div>
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Unfamiliar with the snow pack and alarmed by some recent debris from wind slabs, I belayed Tom as he jumped around ski cut the upper slope. Satisfied he continued on to a safe pull out and coiled the rope as I skied down to him. The others followed, incredulous that we were skiing corn in February. What had looked like a loaded up slope was actually baked down and icy and was just coming into form in the strong desert sun. </div>
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We leap frogged each other for another thousand feet before deciding to work our way back up to the top of Jeff Davis Peak to have a look at another couloir. Stripped to T-shirts, the climb was fast and easy. We kept peering over the edge into the dark hallways to the north, only to find a bunch of talus where there should have been snow. With less wind or more snow, this area would hold a dozen amazing chutes, each worthy of the trip. </div>
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On top of Mr. Davis, the most prominent chute was holding just enough sastrugi to allow clean passage. This NW couloir is lined by huge spires, mellows as it goes, and in total probably measures over two thousand feet. It felt amazing to actually ski something kind of steep and firm after all the powder the past few weeks. </div>
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Regrouping after utterly abusing our skis in the "dust on talus" at the base of the chute, we debating heading up another couloir versus heading home. A desire to keep our ladies happy, urged us home. After a few hours of loosely adhering to speed limits and lively discussions, such as the most effective way to expel foul odors from a car, we arrived home at 7 PM. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Booting the talus for the last thousand feet up Wheeler</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To the summit!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This descent to the south was the surprise of the trip. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lars</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lars dropping into the Jeff Davis Couloir</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom skiing the deceptively flat chute. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Lars almost stayed home. I took him to the grocery store the night before and convinced him to stop being stupid. Hopefully, when my boys grow up, I'll be able to have talks with them too that will be just as effective. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A train of pansies, scared to ski the "dust on talus" at the bottom of the chute. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots to do next time...</td></tr>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-39947050674742801922016-02-07T22:14:00.006-07:002016-02-07T22:14:57.232-07:00Spanish II<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Wednesday was so good that we had to go back for seconds. We traded out Sam and brought Tom but otherwise, it was deja vu. </div>
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Friday, we took a trip to the "other" range instead of joining the LCC circus with the surprise powder. After exploring options to ascend Flat Top or Lewiston Peak from Cedar Fort or Mercur Canyon, we went back to Ophir as it is by far the most direct and highest starting point. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near the summit of Lewiston with the Southern Wasatch on display. </td></tr>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-72520643315214581552016-02-03T22:56:00.001-07:002016-02-03T22:56:16.876-07:00Spanish Snow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sam Todd is new to backcountry skiing but he's a quick study and hard worker. To test his preparation, we took him to the promised land with only moderate expectations of both. Not only did he prove his worth, the UC delivered with some of the best snow and scenery...ever. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail breaking was deep but with 5 percent snow, it was almost effortless.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sam and his new rig. He mistakenly thought he needed a lot of beef to be able to ski in the backcountry. Misled by some other friends, he made a $1500 mistake but I think he has seen the light. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JD entering an enchanted forest. </td></tr>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-43235921210527327492016-02-03T22:42:00.000-07:002016-02-03T22:42:07.026-07:00Some Good DaysThis winter has seen a return to normal in the Wasatch but it feels like we've won the lottery. Last week, I got out for some great tours with a lot of the usual crew. <div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up a ridge on the west side of Timp, I was caught in a moment of indecisiveness while evaluating conditions. With a gloveless hand, I'm reaching for an inclinometer to see how safe our safe ridge really was. Photo by Matt Galland. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After our midnight romp on Olympus, Lars was thirsty for more and we went up South Lone. He's pictured here skinning near the summit. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After skiing near Question Mark Wall, we traversed back into "Heaven's Halfpipe" as it's called by the locals. With nearly 6000 feet of breakable crust to the car, I'd say it more resembled Satan's anus. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Josh is still fairly new to the Wasatch and hadn't had much of a chance to explore outside of upper LCC. We went on a scenic slog through White Pine, Red Pine, Maybird, Hogum, and then back around the Pfeiff to the south for a full circumnavigation. Above, he's taking the sporty route into Hogum Fork. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About to drop into Red Pine, I think he was happy to be done with the flat walking. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Teague rolled into town for a few days to catch last weekends storm. Here he is blasting out the lower portion of the Zeus Couloir on Olympus. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another of Big Teague from Saturday</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason has been out for the last three weeks with his black and blue derriere and scrotum. He finally got a CT of his pelvis and it turns out he fractured his coccyx during his accident. With his treatment being "activity as tolerated" he decided he was done with TV and junk food and is glad to be skiing again. I'm glad to have him back. </td></tr>
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SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-15822450730844890422016-02-03T22:02:00.000-07:002016-02-03T22:02:22.283-07:00Midnight Mount OlympusMy ski plans for last Monday were derailed by a sick kid and I spent most of the day watching the movies with a feverish boy. The movie Frozen was actually the closest I got to experiencing winter. Sometime in the afternoon, I hatched a plan to ski by the light of a nearly full moon and convinced big Lars it would be a good idea. He was game but wanted to ski the Tolcat Couloir between the Olympus summits. I was game with his game but wanted to ski from the actual summit. At night, this would force a rappel to the saddle but he was still excited about the whole hair brained plan. <br />
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We started up the summer trail around 9 PM, summited around 11, and then took in a spectacular hour high above the city shooting photos and dealing with a 60 meter rappel to the saddle. On top, it was cold but absolutely still and incredibly quiet, even with a million people at our feet. <br />
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Coiling ropes at the saddle, we were pretty psyched to ski a fun line in fast hero powder by the light of the moon and a million lights below. Our small headlamps became superfluous. <br />
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The dreaded exit was manageable with a smile and by 1 AM, we were walking in boots out the lower section of the summer trail, incredulous at the mini adventure that we stole from our bank of sleep. <br />
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We were both pretty fried the next day at work but agreed to burn it late again soon. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lars taking the last few steps to the summit of Mount Olympus</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Timed selfie </td></tr>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-28480870617009918962016-01-21T17:40:00.003-07:002016-01-21T17:40:32.093-07:00Some Less Traveled Paths<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This season more than any previous, I've felt a desire to explore away from the Cottonwoods. Mostly, I've been drawn to Utah County for the big relief and trail breaking duties. Not to mention the five star skiing that we've almost guiltily been enjoying all to ourselves. Locally, there are still some seldom traveled paths too that aren't too bushy. Here are some pics without identifiers as proof. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Josh Whitney</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Matt Galland </td></tr>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-9343178447369281582016-01-14T20:13:00.002-07:002016-01-14T20:13:45.767-07:00East Fork and Lisa Falls Link Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The last time I skied Lisa Falls, it was in the worst possible conditions imaginable. Almost the entire 5000 foot line was filled with frozen watermelon sized chunks of debris. I still remember Jared yelling, "This is the worst skiing of my life!" </div>
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I guess "skiing" avy debris is preferable to the dire conditions we've experienced the last few years where the line didn't even come close to filling in. Well, with the cold temps and an average snowpack, we decided it was time to go for it again. </div>
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Typically, it seems people either approach from Tanner's, ski into Broad's, and climb the Twins, or just come up from Broad's Fork and arrange a shuttle. Looking at google earth, and the Wasatch Backcountry Skiing Map, it seemed that a nicer way would be to ascend the Maybird Chute and continue to the summit of Sunrise (O'Sullivan), from there ski the East Fork of Lisa into the main line, some 3000 plus feet down, and then continue up to the summit of the Twins. </div>
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Turns out, that assumption was correct and the East Fork of Lisa is a babe in its own right. </div>
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Ascending some frozen debris in the lower section of Maybird, Jason thought we should turn around and do something else. Perhaps he had a premonition of things to come. About the skiing, he couldn't have been more wrong. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Above Maybird en route to the summit of Sunrise</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the summit of a seldom traveled ski peak</td></tr>
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After a rather sluggish climb to the summit of Sunrise (heavy packs with ropes for potential raps), we were surprised by how good the East Fork line looked. We were further surprised by the nice sheltered powder still preserved in the skier's left side of the chute. Near the confluence with the main line, we enjoyed light snow over boulders while imagining how heinous the creek bed must be without the snow to ease travel. Those imaginings also turned out to be a premonition of things to come. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason dropping in</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Lars in the East Fork of Lisa Falls</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More Lars and his white spandex</td></tr>
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At the confluence of the East Fork and the main chute of Lisa Falls, we skinned up and started climbing. We figured we'd just follow the drainage up to the saddle between the summits, but got suckered left up a wider chute that we figured was the main line. Five hundred feet up, we realized our mistake and found a nice little sneak back into the couloir proper. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yopO2S8NlTg/Vpg8yC9uvUI/AAAAAAAAJeM/72bMR2-A5P4/s1600/IMG_5530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yopO2S8NlTg/Vpg8yC9uvUI/AAAAAAAAJeM/72bMR2-A5P4/s640/IMG_5530.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I bet not too many people have seen this tree as it's off the beaten path and you'd have to be lost like us to find it. </td></tr>
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From there, we booted the upper steeper section until just below the saddle. Transitioning back to skinning, we noted some fairly recent slides that we attributed to the wind event on January 10th, two days prior. Following a small sub ridge on the bed surface of a small slide, we gained the saddle and clambered over to the east summit for a quick snack. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lars, his snow camo outfit, and SLC beyond</td></tr>
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Chilling winds turned us back and we were all psyched to ski this king line in good condition as well as to get out of the north wind. Examining our options, we felt we should stick to the ridge and ski back down the known safe ascent track. Jason led out cautiously, skiing just a couple feet to the left of the ridge to avoid any bigger wind slabs. </div>
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The snow was soft and I could see his tracks from about fifty yards back. Then in horrifyingly slow motion, the slope fractured at Jason's feet as well as a couple feet above him, just off the ridge. He had skied onto a slab and it was too late to turn back. I began to scream for him to fight his way off as I skied the bed surface above the shattered mess. He clawed and tried to climb over the few feet of blocks that were trapping him, eventually arresting himself after being churned for a hundred feet or so. </div>
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His face was red and wet and his helmet crooked but otherwise he was oddly calm. I felt sick. </div>
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He said he was fine, still had a hold of his poles and skis, and declared he was ready to go home. Lars joined us and we commenced a rather sullen retreat down what would have been five thousand feet of childish laughter. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I asked Jason if his adrenaline was pumping but he coldly stated, "I felt nothing!" Kid has ice in his veins. </td></tr>
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After a couple thousand feet, distanced from the mistake above, the mood lightened and we decided to ski out to the road rather than climb back up and ski down Maybird. We bounced along the snow covered boulders, criss crossing the stream and intermittently making sparks with our edges along the way. </div>
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Finally, above the waterfall, we spied our high point from previous reconnaissance and traversed skier's right in order to avoid the annoyance of rapping off a collection of broken branches I'd collected for a deadman. It wasn't long before we were switching between booting, ski schwacking, and literally jumping from side to side of the creek and from slippery boulder to boulder. With skis on, I tried to skirt the lower falls but pinned myself between two boulders. One final down climb led to a pretty decent ski to the road from there. </div>
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In the end, all's well that ends well but we learned a valuable lesson. I hope we can forever remember to not take short cuts. It was clear we should have walked down the rocky ridge and skied the safe ascent track rather than flirt with the clearly sensitive, albeit small wind slab. We had recognized the danger, taken the appropriate precautions on the up, and then were simply lazy on the way down. Seems kinda of ironic seeing as how we enjoy the work of the up. </div>
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The final words for the day, as oft uttered by a former ski hero, "Live to ski!"</div>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-91326995800227983612016-01-04T23:56:00.001-07:002016-01-04T23:56:18.316-07:00The Grr Couloir<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I've climbed the Grr Couloir once when it was filled wall to wall with frozen avy debris. Having spied it from across the drainage two days ago, it looked to be in reasonable condition. </div>
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I brought up the idea with my partners for the day, Noah and Jason, and they were both keen to check it out. </div>
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The conditions ended up being pretty variable with a turn of soft boot top powder leading to wind board to breakable to firm to corn but not necessarily in that order from turn to turn. There was only one spectacular crash the whole day. But, with golden rock lined walls and the place to ourselves, it was another grand outing in the UC. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noah was pretty excited that all the powder has been blown to Colorado so he could bring out the sharp things. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">March boys!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We went from booting to skinning a half dozen times as the conditions dictated. </td></tr>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-73929642719142139362016-01-04T23:49:00.002-07:002016-01-04T23:49:22.442-07:00New Year's Day Wind<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The wind event on New Year's day led to some of the most reactive slabs I've ever seen or stepped on. We kept to mellow ridges but found naturals and likely remotely triggered slides on both sides of the ridge. Needless to say, it was a truncated start to the new year. </div>
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The next day, the sun came out and the temps rose 30 degrees. There were even a few soft turns in sheltered areas. </div>
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<br />SLC sherpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591136079025670628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022327260553440775.post-985890723080154322016-01-04T23:28:00.000-07:002016-01-04T23:28:02.010-07:00New Year's Eve TraditionEvery New Year's for the past few years, we've been getting together with a group of friends to stand on a summit. The same characters keep coming and I rather like the tradition. Fortunately, it reminds me of most other days during the winter. <br />
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With the still great snow and a stabilizing snow pack, we shot down to Box Elder Peak. Some years ago on one of my very first tours, skinning to the summit of this peak wrecked me. I remember starting with Bart Gillespie, Jared and Sam Inouye. By the time I made it to the summit, utterly blown, Bart and Jared had already skied down, climbed the Pfeifferhorn, and were on their way into Little Cottonwood Canyon for more. Sam was waiting patiently along the way but was probably steaming with frustration on the inside from my ineptitude.<br />
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Anyway, with Bart and Jared joining along with Jason, Matt, and Tom, it felt good to be able to keep up now. The skiing and the group rally out the exit were pretty fun too. <br />
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