Exploring Nebo

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.  

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.  

The Garden of Skiden.  We ended up skiing the bigger chute on the looker's left. 

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.  

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.  

Noah in Eve's tenderloin

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.  

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.  

Noah near the high point of a fun line he's calling Genesis .

Dropping into the Genesis

Looking back up at Genesis

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.

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.

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.

Lars near the top of the Champagne

Noah 

Into the sun

Lars from the top of the skiable section

Noah getting into the rhythm 

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.  

Wheeler and Jeff Davis Peaks

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

Booting the talus for the last thousand feet up Wheeler

To the summit!

This descent to the south was the surprise of the trip.  

Jason

Lars

Lars dropping into the Jeff Davis Couloir

Tom skiing the deceptively flat chute.  

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.  

Tom

JD

A train of pansies, scared to ski the "dust on talus" at the bottom of the chute.  

Lots to do next time...

Spanish II

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. 

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.

Near the summit of Lewiston with the Southern Wasatch on display. 

Spanish Snow

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.  

The trail breaking was deep but with 5 percent snow, it was almost effortless.

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. 

JD entering an enchanted forest.