Kessler 4x4 in the rain

I was thinking about making a run at Jared and Noah's Stupor Tour on Monday. The forecast of wind, snow, and thunder made me think twice about spending all day on the high ridge line. John S. wanted to do the Kessler 4x4, a linkup that I've thought about for a couple years and that that damn P whore Noah scored already this season. Oh well, finding inspiration in his post, we decided to go for it.

In case you don't click on the above link, the Kessler 4x4 is a linkup of the 4 major lines off Kessler Peak. The plan was to ski them counterclockwise from the East Couloir, to God's Lawnmower, to Argenta, and finishing with the West Couloir. Each line was to be skied to the car before heading back up for more.

At 6:30 AM at the BCC park 'n ride, I realized I forgot my boots at home just as John was pulling into the lot. That cost almost an hour. Oh well, at least we didn't have to start in the dark.

Getting out of the car, I almost stepped on a dead, well preserved Raccoon, that looked like it had just melted out of the snowbank. I'm kicking myself right now for not taking a picture. Two other guys were heading up at the same time who looked like they were moving well and we joined forces to the top.

First up: The East Couloir

John trying out light gear for the first time:



He was on my "heavy" set up consisting of Dynafit Seven Summits Skis, Speed bindings, and TLT Performance boots. I spent the day on a rando race set up that I think works well for just about any big day. It consists of Dynafit DNA boots, Trab Work Cup skis, and my Frankenstein hybrid of a Dynafit Low Tech toe piece and a Trab Race heel piece.

Back at the car, we grabbed a snack and then headed up for more. By this time, it was 40+ degrees outside and spitting rain/sleet/snow. We broke a trail up to the top of the Lawnmower and John found out how 78 under foot feels in 36" under skis.



Seemed like a good idea at the time:



Bill had to get to work but new friend Adam was keen on finishing out the day so back up we went.

The sun came out for about 5 seconds...



This old tree has seen a lot of slides and a lot of skiers go by.


John dropping in at the top of Argenta:


The snow up high was pretty soft but as we lost elevation, it became a completely saturated sticky mess. Each ascent would lead to wet skins that eventually glopped up fiercely.

This was KEY to making it through the day.


This was the other key...(not sponsored by Coke)


John's feet had been suffering for some time because he was using my boots for the first time. By the bottom of the third run, he couldn't take it anymore for fear of permanent damage and reluctantly pulled the plug. I was sad to see him go, but at that point, I was going to finish no matter what. Adam was game to keep on so...

Around 14,000 feet into the day, Adam dropped off the summit of Kessler on his way to the West Couloir and the crappiest skiing of the day.



Heading home, the sun finally came out. It's probably better that it didn't earlier since Adam and Bill, who had never skied on Kessler before, will still have the whole mountain to discover after skiing the whole mountain.


Go away spring.

Pfeifferhorn: NE Couloir Via North Ridge Climb w/Bonus North Couloir

A full day off work meant we had a full day at work on the Pfeifferhorn again. The plan was to climb the 5.easy but aesthetic North Ridge and then try to ski from the summit down the ridge and out onto the NE face, easing into the NE couloir, and then rapping to freedom and the apron below.

Getting started. JD with sights on North Couloir (faster variation to full N. Ridge climb):


Wind and light playing games:


JD getting his Chamonix on:


Negotiating a couple easy rock steps:




JD, impatiently waiting his turn:


HIs turn:


Even though it was easy, it's so fun to scrap snow out of cracks and plug gear.


We tagged the summit and continued our ongoing debate about whether or not to try and ski the NE face/couloir. The main concern was some lingering instability, particularly given recent activity on a similar aspect on the nearby Lake Peak. While climbing, I kept straining to see the rocky snowfields on the upper reaches of the NE face. They looked wind scoured and safe enough but there were pockets of slabby appearing drifts that were concerning enough to make us want to ski belayed in the event enough snow got moving to knock us off our feet and over the big cliff.

Committing, we skied the ridge down to where we could traverse out onto the face. From there, JD made cautious turns down to the edge but couldn't find the supposed piton anchor. He poked around a bit and thought it might be on the other side of a rock rib. Here he is climbing back out.


Then it was my turn to look around. I climbed up and to the East trying to gain access to the couloir. After much shin bashing and wallowing, I realized we were likely in the correct couloir the whole time.

JD rigging up a belay:


Standing on the edge of the world. The skiing was relatively mild, but the rope provided insurance against any wind pockets catching us off guard.


The rule when rappelling is that the biggest guy goes first. That way, the second can back up the anchor, and if it worked for the big guy, then the little ones should be fine. At 6'1" 175, I'm always the biggest. Where are all the normal sized people?

About to rappel over the shark teeth to the tasty looking lower chute/apron:


Super psyched to have made it off the face and to find sweet conditions in the lower chute:


We skied out the apron to the bottom, ate some candy bars, and then made the short traverse back to the North Couloir where our booter was still mostly in place.

10 minutes later...


I pulled out my iphone inclinometer and measured the slope at 53 degrees. With great chalky snow, it was a blast.



Heading home:


The other day, disappointed by my broken binding and leaving plans unfinished, a new seed was planted by CA, who mentioned that we should climb the N. Ridge some time. From that, hatched the plan to do exactly what we did and I've gotten my fix for a few days. But, part of me can't help but feel some regret at not going back up to ski the NW Couloir as well for some sort of mini "trifecta". We thought about that, but it was getting warm, and JD somehow misplaced his water and had NONE for the day. Luckily for him, I'm a generous brother/dad (I joke that I raised him - no offense to our real dad) and shared the mini coke and Gatorade that I had.

Or better yet, as I lay restless in bed the night before, the thought crossed my mind to also add the East Face, South Face, and the above lines for a type of quintuple Pfeifferhorn day.

I've mentioned it before, but I'm completely sold on moving all day (or longer) through beautiful terrain, enchaining peak after peak, to test both my endurance and imagination. Reading the new book, 50 Classic Ski Descents of North America, I came across a quote by Lowell Skoog, prolific Cascade skier. He echoes this idea...

"In the mountains of North America, or at least in the lower 48, it won't be long before most of the classic lines that can be skied will be skied. For skiers seeking new challenges, the future of the sport will be in link-ups - skiing both steep and far. Ski mountaineers will merge the techniques developed for rando-racing with those developed for steep skiing. The emphasis probably won't be on the steepest descents, but instead on the most elegant routes that link multiple descents on multiple peaks."

The Y-Not, NW Couloir Pheiff, Gear Failure #3

Here's how the last two days went down.

FRIDAY:

I backed into my garage door after the opener seemingly malfunctioned, destroying the door, my box, and crossbars. That made me late for our run at the Y-Not Couloir. It didn't matter though because we made good time, found our way, and I was able to forget about how pissed I was just hours before.

Here's CC finding his way up the Y-Not

JD turned into a little rage monkey at the top.

...Not sure why since the skiing was pretty good.

We leap frogged our way down to the rappel and found that the anchors are most inconveniently located. Completely exposed to avalanche and rock fall, they've been partially destroyed and are hard to safely access if the conditions are even slightly icy. We slung a large tree about ten feet up that I feel should be the permanent anchor. Adding to the cluster was a fixed rope some party left behind.

Here's a peek.

To gain the lower apron, there's a fun section of mandatory straightlining, crappy snow, and dark granite walls.

Y-Not rappel crotch shot:

While taking pictures from the cave, the rage monkey reappeared:
Untitled from andy dorais on Vimeo.


SATURDAY:

We had big plans to start at 4:00 AM, head up the Pheifferhorn, and then linkup big lines in the area until dark. It was supposed to be glorious. It was, until I had a gear malfunction and was unable to click into my bindings.

Back to the Pheiff...

CA came with us this morning and is an awesome guy. He was so psyched for us to be successful on our planned link up, that he kept jumping to the front to break trail. Happy from the get go (4:15AM), I'll ski with that guy any day.

Scrambling in the dark.

Wake up!

They boys on top of the Pheiff at 6:30 in the morning:

CA, above the rappel, with a few of our intended lines in the background. My binding broke at the spot from where this picture was taken.

CA, with a hip rappel down the surprisingly filled in NW couloir. It was 6-10 feet at the most. For those of you into airing stuff, now would be a good time for a ropeless descent. I was even tempted on the kid skis and broken binding.

So, we found ourselves in Hogum Fork at 7:20 AM with untrustworthy gear, torn as to whether to continue or nor. The voice of reason prevailed and a potentially remarkable day was cut short by six or seven lines. Each line is an adventure in itself, but I'm still interested in using light (if I could find some that didn't break) gear and a wild imagination to create something bigger. Pachinko is the game and it's becoming an addiction.

Here's Y Not

Untitled from andy dorais on Vimeo.

I had an obligation until one and missed a beautiful morning. I needed some adventure and thought we might be able to force our way up the Y and out the Y-not. Just as we entered the Y, Jason stated rather matter of fact that I should get out of the way. I looked up and saw a wall of slush coming at us. After easily ambling to safety, we pulled out our cameras, confirming that wet slides can be outrun. Not wanting to be proved otherwise, we both sagely state in the video that it probably would be a good idea to turn around. Really? Probably? Probably wasn't a good idea to be there in the first place. Guess I'll live to ski manky snow another day.

Provo Peak Highway Line

I'm not sure why, but even before I started skiing, I wanted to ski Provo Peak. I can see it from my parent's deck and from just about anywhere in Utah County. I tried to get up there a few years ago and due to a storm/hazardous conditions, we bailed. Today, the weather looked perfect so we went exploring.

We started at the Slate Canyon trailhead, followed an excellent trail for a few thousand vertical, and then broke through the brush to the West Ridge of Provo Peak.

Adam skinning out of Slate Canyon with Buckley Peak in the background:


The views to north of Cascade, Timp, and Lone Peak were pretty spectacular:


JD trying to dial up some County babes...all he got were a couple dudes:


Cool rime everywhere:


Adam feeling happy to be arriving at the summit.


Only to find a bunch of crappy ice skiing from the top.


It got better though.


Until the exit when I buried a ski and ended up doing some sort of front flip, landing facing back up hill.


We were able to ski about 5,950 feet of the 6,000 foot descent, earning us a trip to The Italian Place, Taco Bell, and Macey's for ice cream. I love Utah County.

View of Provo Peak from just off I-15 in Pleasant Grove. Our descent is the obvious line on the NW face.

Great White Icicle Climb/Ski Descent

Yesterday was a fun day. Jared had his sights on a bigger line in the mountains but conditions weren't going to allow stuff like that. I'd figured as much, and had all night while at work to become fixated on the idea of "skiing" the GWI. I proposed the idea to Jared and he seemed pretty psyched as well.

That was until...


The road was closed so we walked up to the pump house. It opened just before we got there. I bet waiting would have been a wash.

Here are a bunch a pics and a narrative of the day.

Jared, about to get frisky:


At the top of the first pitch, I looked down and saw BG rallying through the forest to join us. It's always more fun with three. The climbing was a bit of a cluster with the deep snow and three man team. We roped up for the first pitch.

Getting started (photo by JI):


We all soloed the second.

Solo train up pitch two (photo by JI)


Deep snow...balls deep:


Jared led the bulge with his nano tech Camp crampons and did a fine job even though his feet skated all over the place. Maybe he's convinced that some proper vertical front point steel spikes are better?

(photo by BG):


Belaying, scared that Jared's aluminum crampons were going to break (photo by BG):


Bart followed while I climbed the left side because I was too cold to wait around (photo by JI).


From there, we all roped up to the top. The ice was thick and low angle sections had more snow than I've ever seen up there. Lucky too since we were going to try and ski as much as we could (photo by JI).


Below the last pitch:


BG near the top (photo by JI)


From the top, we rapped back to the uppermost snow field and donned our skinny skis. We each made a few cautious turns before clinging to the rope and rapping back over the bulge.

Jared, deciding not to air the huge bulge below:


BG, committing to the rope:


From there we skied belayed back down pitch two. Looking back, that wasn't necessary, but we were being pansies. At the bottom of pitch two, we finally put away the ropes for good. It was sweet powder skiing...for about 8 turns, before reverting back to side stepping our way around pitch one and skiing out the mini apron.

After the bulge (photo by JI):


Side slipping pitch two (photo by BG):


Best turns (all 6) of the year (photo by BG):


Jared in deep powder on the GWI:


Typical Samurai, straight lining the exit:


Not a lot of vertical and not a lot of skiing but a lot of fun.

Thanks to JI and BG for sharing pictures. I forgot my camera and just had my phone. Stupid.