"Skin the Turkey" Thanksgiving Skimo

Starting line of the 2nd annual "Skin the Turkey"

First, happy Thanksgiving to all.  Hopefully everyone had a warm meal and has slept it off by now.  This will be a brief race report of the second annual "Skin the Turkey" informal ski mountaineering race that we are holding in lieu of flag football or a turkey trot 5K.  

This year's venue was the ever welcoming Brighton Ski Resort and the surrounding backcountry.  We had 13 participants and I'm pretty sure everyone had a good time.  Our course began in the parking lot, followed a mix of groomed runs, cat tracks, and skin track to the Millicent Lift.  From there, we ripped skins and descended to the Twin Lakes dam where we skinned up again and made our way to the pass.  Finding coverage less than desirable, we turned it around and skied back to the parking lot where with skis in hand, we ran over to the base of the Great Western lift for the final climb.  The total vertical was on the low end at 3700ish but it seemed appropriate for the mixed crowd of spandex/goretex and race skis/Manaslus.  

In the end, Jason pulled off the victory after going back and forth with Jared and I for the morning.  The Samurai and I entered the last transition together and a spectacular crash while blinded by snow and high winds left me in third.  The others made their way home as the weight (gear) on their feet dictated and found hot cider  or cocoa and pumpkin pie with whipped cream waiting in the back of the Subaru.  

Out of the gate feeling crappy sans warm up

Pumpkin pie out of the back of the Subaru...Sanitary and Delicious!

It was a pretty enjoyable morning on a pretty enjoyable holiday.  Hopefully we'll plan better next year, get the word out sooner, and see some more of you.

Hard Lessons: The Grand Canyon

Sunrise en route to the GC

The Grand Canyon drew me back again.  Viking Lars flew in after two weeks of training to run the classic R2R2R, and in a blatant attempt at one-upmanship, I was going to attempt the R2R in under 3:19 (Jason's time).  Last minute additions, Jake T and Joe K, filled the car and made for a high level of excitement as they were getting a second chance after being shut down on the drive last week due to snowy roads.  

But, keeping our priorities straight, we snuck in a quick lap on Baldy before driving down.  It was Lars' first ski of the year.  Perfect preparation for a run 16 miles longer than anything he'd done before.  With sore legs and poor training, the former All-American runner turned MMA fighter was in over his head.  Jake and Joe had been running all summer so I knew they'd get the job done but questioned how fast.  Nevertheless, on the drive down I issued a warning: be back at the car by 11:00 PM or get left at the North Rim.  

All of us had commitments early Friday morning and I hoped I wouldn't have to follow through on my threat.  I also hoped I wouldn't be the one getting left out in the cold.  We pulled into Kanab around 11:30PM and found a cheap motel.  The youngsters were soon asleep, leaving Lars to fret about the task at hand and me to battle a GI bug that I must have picked up from some ill advised food choice earlier in the day.  5:30AM came all too quickly and Lars declared that he'd slept for almost a whole hour.  Not good.  

Snowy sunrise over the high plateau en route to the Grand Canyon

Perfect running weather

We hastily packed and dressed for the day with Jake and Joe choosing to represent the JV team by wearing shorts over their tights.  Then it was 80 miles of beautiful scenery, including a gorgeous sunrise over the old burn on the high plateau just before the North Rim.  The open meadows were layered with new snow and a wisp of fog hung in the air.  Passing through I noticed the thermometer read 1 degree Farenheit.  Then 0.  Then -1.  Then -2. Then -3.  And so on until... -12 degrees F.  Huh?   

Snowy conditions at the N. Rim

Fortunately, the temps climbed as we approached the North Rim and reached a balmy 12 degrees at the trailhead.  Eager to get started, the guys jumped out and started down the trail as a pack of 3.  I stretched a bit and then struck out after them, wondering how the snow on the trail would affect my ability to run fast along the descent from the rim.  A few minutes later, I passed the fellas as they jumped out of the way, cheering and hooting me along.  My La Sportiva Crosslites were the right choice for the snow as the burly tread made even high speed switch backs mundane.  

A beautiful wintry morning descent into the Grand Canyon

Jason had given me his splits during his crossing: 45:00 to Cottonwood, 1:37 to the river, and 3:19 to the South Rim.  He had been going for the fastest known crossing time of 3:06 and change but fell short due to poor hydration/nutrition and inadequate specific training.  As a competitive older brother, 3:19 R2R was the goal.  

After having to stop to shed a layer and deal with a blister, I ran through the Cottonwood campground as the watch read 43:23.  Ha, I was ahead of pace...

Then, an emergent bathroom stop was necessary. Then another.  Swearing over lost time, I picked up the pace.  Familiar landmarks were flying by and my watch told me I was still on pace.  Then, while negotiating a rocky section of trail, I caught a toe and felt my center of gravity accelerate ahead of my feet.  I ran faster to get my feet back under me but was only successful in making my impact into the talus slope more dramatic.  Shocked, I rolled over to survey the damage - a bloody arm and a bruised hip, knee, and bilateral shoulders.  Not to mention my smashed ego.  I used to make fun of people who fell running.  Now, it happens with some regularity.  

Bitterly, I could feel the day getting away from me.  The weather was perfect and yet I was managing to fight against myself in every way in a game where each minute counts.  Back on my feet and running, the motivation was gone.  With a new soreness, I jogged the last couple miles to the river, arriving in 1:41.  Decent, but I was too far gone to push hard up the other side.  A man with more character would have gone to failure.  Maybe a man with more character wouldn't try to show up his little brother.  

Sitting down to get water at the river, I felt sorry for myself.  Why did I drive that far and sacrifice time away from Jessie and skiing?  Why such bad timing with the stomach virus or food poisoning?  Why do I keep falling?  Then I remembered where I was and really looked around for the first time since leaving the trailhead.  I remembered I had 3 friends having a grand adventure just up the trail who were discovering the canyon for the first time.  I remembered that I do this stuff because it makes me feel alive and fuels a deep happiness.  

I got up and decided to walk up to the South Rim, planning to regroup with the other guys.  While walking, I noticed the tiered sweep of the land and the snowy conifers capping the Northern rim.  The red sandstone was stunning in contrast to the subdued greens of the sage, freshly invigorated by recent snows and rain.  The day was painfully beautiful with a sharp breeze and a paucity of tourists and mules and I was starting to enjoy myself.  

Alone on the South Rim, I began to wonder about the other guys.  Walking back down the first switchbacks, I suddenly saw two figures moving much too fast to be random tourists.  Now it was my turn to shout encouragement as Jake and Joe strode past, 4:18 into their day.  I quickly asked about Lars and found out they had left him for dead back at the river.  Worried, I walked on, hoping to turn the next bend and see Lars chasing down the others.  

And there he was, just around the next bend.  Head down and jogging, the man had been suffering for hours in solitude.  I cheered him on and he yelled at me to wait for him as the view back across to the North Rim must have been rather demoralizing.  I laid down on a rock to bask in the sun and watch hawks catch thermals above the South Rim.  Some minutes later Jake and Joe came hopping back down the trail, looking cheerful, they asked for the key, saying I had better be back by the 11:00PM deadline.  That would depend on Lars...

Joe descends back to the Colorado River 

Ten minutes later, a rather spry looking Lars came trotting along and we were off.  He had made the South Rim in 4:35 and was intent on gaining bragging rights over another friend of ours.  His goal: 10:57:22.  

We ambled down the South Kaibab trail, catching glimpses of the youngsters below as they switch-backed toward the river.  Soon we were reunited at Phantom Ranch and a game of cat and mouse ensued.  I was continually impressed with all three of the guys as they were all having great days.  Lars, who had run ~10 miles/week over the last month was now 30 miles into this run and still light on his feet.  I caught him craning his neck to look around the next turn, hoping to catch sight of the others.  

And then it happened...  The inevitable implosion.  Walking slowly, his voice told me to go ahead and catch the others.  His face said otherwise.  I ran ahead.  

Catching the others at the Cottonwood campground they too were now dealing with fatigue and walking stretches.  I ran a stretch with the guys to gauge their mood (which was still high) and then sat down to wait for Lars again.  The sun was getting low and would soon be hidden by the towering walls.  

Having eaten his umpteenth gel, he was recovering and fast hiking the up and jogging any flats/down.  Falling into a steady pace, Lars made his push for home.  Over the bridge and through the tunnel it was now getting dark.  Back on snow, the rim felt close but Lars was starting to sway.  I'd given him my poles miles earlier and wonder if he would have collapsed without their support.  At some point we became aware that the moon was full and its powerful beams were reflecting off the snowy slopes.  Marching through the forest I was now content with a day gone awry that had been salvaged by the power of the natural landscape and by sharing the success of others.  

And a success it was.  Lars topped out in 10:36 gaining temporary bragging rights over our friend.  Jake and Joe barely missed their goal of sub 10 hours but had a grand time anyway.  No one missed the 11:00PM deadline and we all rode home with another adventure to remember as we go work, bleary eyed and happy.  

(All photos by Jake Trauscht)

What not to do on a day off...

When you get one day off a week, the pressure is on to make each one count.  Here is a list of what not to do...

1. Wake up early.

2. Head up a resort with just enough snow to persuade you to skin from the car.

3. Follow a crazy samurai to the base of an obscure, very thin, ice climb that is aptly named, "Rookie Party", even though you know it's not likely climbable in the current conditions.

4. Allow said samurai to scratch around, while getting cold and scared (for him).  

5. Finally, convince the samurai to wisely turn around, still earning him the "Bail of the Day!"

6. Don the skis to make cautious turns until something breaks (luckily just my will to keep rock skiing).  

7. Walk a couple miles over snow dusted talus and cat tracks back to the car.  

Jared trying to decide if he really wants to commit to crappy rock, bad ice, and even worse pro.

Making the right choice

All sarcasm aside, it was still a fun morning and once the ice fills in, we will be back for a great day of playing in the mountains.  

Late October Teton Psych Movie!

Late October Teton Psych from andy dorais on Vimeo.


To quote Tom Evans, "Glory days!!  The best days of our lives!!"

Let it snow!

Late October Teton Psych!

Well, here goes the usual story...

I had a day off of work and was fiending for some excitement.  Luckily, I know a few other addicts who happened to be available for a rowdy ski trip into Garnet Canyon in GTNP.  I say rowdy because there really isn't a lot of snow up there, but we were going to find some skiing anyway, regardless of the conditions.

Jared and I left SLC Wed evening and made it to Jackson without getting pulled over. We tumbled into the Professor's house, where he had set up the hide-a-bed.  Jared was against sharing and inadvertent cuddling so he took the floor (this would change later).  First the Dutchman, and then the irrepressible Kim Young, showed up on Brian's door in the morning.  We were to be a crew of five searching for elusive October powder.

We started just after 8:00 down the Lupine Trail, half jogging to warm up.  In the parking lot, the temperature was in the 30s and we were all chilled, wearing our standard lycra.  An hour and a half later, we strolled through the Meadows and sat down to exchange running shoes for ski boots.  The lower angle fall light and the crisp autumn temperatures aided our gleeful mood as we sat in the snow dusted talus debating our next move.  All eyes were drawn upward by a swath of white coming out of the West Hourglass Couloir that looked skiable.    

The boys finding reasonable conditions in the West Hourglass Couloir, Nez Perce

Kim Young finding unreasonable conditions in the West Hourglass Couloir, Nez Perce

What we found was boiler plate through the lower section, which inspired us to don our crampons, then a brilliant slope of creamy powder, before the upper stretch of rock strewn, wind scoured, alpine ice/névé.  Curious, we pushed to the top since Jared and I had never been there before.  Looking over the South Fork of Garnet Canyon, the mountains felt large.

Cold

Waiting to regroup, we put on all available scraps of clothing in a futile attempt to stay warm.  With the wind chill hovering around zero, I was wearing two puffy coats over two smaller jackets.  Jared was a little worse off and now was more than willing to cuddle to stay warm.  Kim nearly threw up from the pain in her hands as she topped out the couloir.  I think Nate and Brian were unfazed as they looked at us with pity for being so weak. 

Motivated to get moving, the group down climb ensued until we were back on reasonable terrain to start skiing.

Alpine ice, dirt, rock, and a little snow kept the skis on our backs

The Professor's first turns of 2011/12

Once we finally put our skis on, we found what we were looking for...

...better than expected skiing with a bit of dry powder to sluff around.  Then we hit the lower slopes which, being less protected, were bullet. No matter.  Everyone was smiling and commenting about how enjoyable the skiing was. Carefree, and unfettered by thoughts of the world below, everyone was easy as we moved towards the Middle Teton.

The Middle Teton Glacier

Nate sneaks above the bergschrund

Jared sped away, skinning the glacier while the rest of us pursued "Teton Style", trudging upwards with skis on our backs.  It seems backcountry skiers in the Wasatch prefer to keep their skis on their feet and skin as much as possible.  I do.  Jared does.  We both feel it's more efficient and quite possibly faster.  Wasatch style or Teton style? Which do you prefer?  

Initially, we thought we might be satisfied with skiing the lower glacer, but the allure of steep powder plastered to the upper couloir proved too much.  The slope angle came in at 51 degrees, and no one could believe the mid winter conditions.  We were about to make turns in stable powder on a steep classic line in the Tetons, in October.  It was perfect.  As we topped out the couloir, we found ourselves standing at the notch between the Dike Pinnacle and the main summit of the Middle.  The air was calm and the autumnal sun was enhancing all the colors around us.  Even Jared seemed content to absorb the view as he shelved the idea of going to the summit.  

High on the Middle Teton having a perfect day

Psyched!

Kim Young hanging with the boys

The flying Dutchman

October powder?

End of the road...

Unfortunately, the facade of winter ended while still well above the Meadows as we eked out the last few meters of turns.  With the pyramidal shadows stretching past the Snake River, no one seemed bothered by the inconvenience of hiking as the mood remained elevated throughout the 4+ miles back to the trailhead.  For nearly 8000 feet of climbing, everyone looked pretty spry back at the cars. 

Back in town, we exchanged quick good byes with our Jackson buddies and  then made the well familiar drive back to SLC, only getting pulled over twice.  

When's my next day off...?

Brilliant home movie pending...

Mid October Psych

Over the weekend, four of us eschewed the perfect climbing and mountain biking and made an ill advised trip up Baldy for another look at the main chute.  The weather was warm and the snow line was hundreds of feet higher than just the day prior.  

No matter.  The leaves are turning and it was one of those Autumn days that make me never want to return to work again.  

The pics (all by JD):

Autumn from high in Little Cottonwood Canyon

Rock skinning

Psyched for some more October skiing!

Tanner picking his way through last year's ice... Never said it was good skiing.

And just for the fun of it, we made a video of the day filled with horrific skinning and skiing.  The music is by Cedar Wright and fits the carefree mood of the day.  

Although always worth it, I don't think I'll ski again until we get some more snow.  And unfortunately, the forecast is grim...sunny and 60 all week.  

Movie Madness: The Grand Canyon and Mountain B Sides

I have no future in cinematography.  But, making movies is fun and here are my two latest efforts.  The first is a nauseating 5 minute ensemble from my recent R2R2R run in the Grand Canyon and the second is a collection of "B sides" from my video library.  Most of the clips from the B Sides movie are from last winter but a couple are from this summer and our attempt at the WURL.  I also snuck in a few recycled favorites from prior posts.

Running the Grand Canyon:


Mountain B Sides:

Mountain B Sides from andy dorais on Vimeo.


Continuing the theme, it really has all started again with today being our third on skis.  The loose powder has settled nicely and what you see is what you get...  I still manage to hit plenty of rocks though.

Running the Grand Canyon: Rim to Rim to Rim

Cold morning view from the Kaibab Lodge

I'm not sure when I first heard about the idea of the rim to rim to rim.  It might have been from Adam or Jared a couple years ago.  Regardless, I have been planning on doing it this fall and was rather disappointed when a work shuffle left me without apparent time to join Jared and Jason last week.  

After skiing Friday, I convinced first myself and then my wife to make a one day trip to the Grand Canyon on my day off, so I could attempt the fabled Rim to Rim to Rim run.  She is 31 weeks pregnant and the standard accommodations in the back of the Subaru just weren't going to do.  The GC Lodge had no vacancy and the Kaibab Lodge had a single room with a double bed.  We took it.  I arranged a shuttle for 6:45 in the morning and then we were off driving into the night.  Arriving at one AM, we set the alarm for "early" and went to bed.   

Since Jessie couldn't run with me and no other partners materialized, I went and found the shuttle driver alone.  Seeing my breath and the snow on the ground felt like a good omen.  I do better in the cold and I was hoping the temps would be mild throughout the two impending canyon crossings.  

The secret is in the white powder.

However, it wasn't without some trepidation that I started running down the choppy trail at 7:15 that morning.  Unsure as to why, I haven't had a "good" run in weeks.  But, throwing caution to the wind, I decided to roll the first five downhill miles.  The air were cool but I shed my jacket 5 minutes into the run as the sun was strong.  Arriving at the first watering hole, I took a look at the crowds and kept moving.  From there, 8-9 miles of mostly gentle downhill follow a side canyon to the Colorado River.  

The canyon was beautiful with the early morning light playing off the walls and the sounds of the creek providing a musical accompaniment to the Fanfarlo I was playing on my ipod.  I took a pull off my gel flask around an hour in and had to keep reminding myself to drink.  The running was easy and relaxing and I was enjoying the moment.  

Descending from the North Rim

Following North Kaibab Trail endlessly downward

I trotted into Phantom Ranch around 1:45, looking to refill my water for the climb up to the South Rim but found a hoard of people lined up at the spigot.  Eager not to waste time, I kept going and found another just before the river crossing.  Crossing the bridge as the watch ticked over to 2 hours, I felt strong.  Jason and Jared had given splits to the South Rim, 50K, and the finish and I thought I was ahead of their pace, which provided ample motivation.  Once across the river, out came the poles and away went the camera.  I was able to run/shuffle much of the 4800 ft climb to the South Rim but never pushed.  Walking when prudent or when held up by mules, I started to see more and more people without packs.  Then the final switchbacks.  Then the South Rim.  3:43:30 into the day.  

Striding quickly to the fountains, I must have appeared frantic to the tourists posing for pictures and eating their lunches.  I fumbled with my pack (Jason's, which I used for the ability to carry poles), mixed more EFS drink, spilled half on my shoes, choked down a gel flask, wet my head, played tourist for 1 min taking pictures, and then I was off 10 minutes later.  Looking across the expanse to the North Rim was intimidating and my legs were giving the first inklings of bad times ahead.                   

The long descent back to the river doesn't lend itself to smooth running as it resembles a broken staircase littered with equestrian droppings.  Losing elevation led to hurting legs and a more tempered pace.   At this point I began to question my nutrition strategy, which was to drink my calories.  With water available every 5ish miles, I had planned on mixing EFS, Hammer, and Cytomax products for an energy source supplemented by gels.  Lately, I haven't been able to stomach food on long efforts and this day was no different.                                                                                                                                                                                  

Ooh Aah, just below the South Rim

Dropping back to the River, the bottom of the canyon is the narrow gash in the center of the picture.  North Rim is visible in the distance. 

I crossed the Colorado River for the second time right as the watch read 5:00.  After quickly refilling my water for the third time, I set off at what I felt to be a sustainable pace for the remainder of the run.  Figuring I had 8 miles of gentle up hill before hitting the main climb back to the North Rim, I thought I could count on 9-12 min miles, after which, fast hiking and jogging the lower grades would take me home.  Mental calculations had me hoping for a total time of just over 8 hours (really slow compared to the record but relatively fast).  My pride began to swell and my taunts to friends were already forming in my mind.  

Then reality.

The temperature was too warm. I had started too fast.  My nutrition was abysmal.  I forgot electrolyte tabs.  I was experiencing whole body cramps.  Damn. 

I sat down at mile 34 (of 42) and tried to stretch.  That just led to cramps in the antagonistic muscle groups.  Salvation came in the form of other runners attempting the R2R2R, when they gave me a handful of salt tabs.  I took a few and kept walking.  Afraid to run, the strategy shifted from moving fast to finishing.  Every time I tried to even walk at a more upbeat tempo, my quads would threaten utter rebellion.  

The mental calculations commenced again.  This time to evaluate the damage.  15-25 minute miles for 8 miles?  Huh? 

The bridge over the River Colorado 

Done!

I didn't run another step over those 8 miles.  And, in spite of not being able to run, I was happy.  I almost pulled off a great run and was going to finish (which I had questioned on the drive down).  The scenery was still spectacular but leaning on my poles didn't allow me to carry my camera and I was too lazy to get it out of the pack.  When the canyon walls closed down, my watch would temporarily get confused with the intermittent satellite signal so I couldn't trust it not to lie to me.   As I approached the top I started asking the hikers how far was left.  Some guy said 3 miles.  Another lady said 2 miles from the tunnel.  The tunnel came and went.  A father and young boy thought a mile and a half.  The views dissipated as I marched into the forest.  Then I could hear cheering above.  Rounding a bend an animated gentleman said 200 meters and pointed onward.  Feeling relief, I stumbled out to the trailhead 9 hours and 12 minutes after starting and walked past a hoard of people who had just finished their own adventures.  

Then, as tends to be the case, the second part of this endurance endeavor was a long drive home, since I had to be at work early the next morning.  Luckily, Jessie provided lovely conversation for the majority of the ride home...except when she fell asleep.  Just outside the park, we drove through an old burn and passed through what may have been the most picturesque vistas of the whole trip.

Old burn on fire again

Golden hour

Stats:

Total Time 9:12:38

42+ miles

10-11,000 vertical gained

10 gels 

4 water stops

uncountable muscle cramps

13 hours driving

5 hours sleeping

Here's the data from my sketchy watch.  There vertical is oddly doubled but the map should be accurate. 

And so it begins...

I was at work this morning when I received a picture text of alpenglow on a snowy Mount Superior.  Jason and Jared were trying to push my buttons.  Off around ten, I rallied out of work and convinced JD to head back up for more "first turns" of the season.  He protested that the skiing really wasn't worth it.  Isn't it always worth it?  

Summer flowers hanging on.

JD being reckless with abundant lurking sharks.

Getting my first turns of this season.  Photo taken without permission from jasondorais.blogspot.com.

Photo taken without permission from jasondorais.blogspot.com.

I think fall will return before winter finally sets in. 

Photo Highlights: A Year In Review

With the first dusting of snow in the high mountains last week, my thoughts are again turning toward falling snow, moving through rough terrain on skis, and some unfinished projects from last year.  Jason and Adam have posted their top pics of the year and in an effort to boost my own already high level of psych for the coming season, I perused my photo library and found these 20+ favorites.  Most have not been posted previously, and I tried not to duplicate any of the other guys, even though they already put up many of the best/favorites.   

A September evening last year after climbing Squawstruck in Provo Canyon

JD sinking jams on the classic route, Triple Overhangs.

Just one month later, Adam was heading up Suicide Chute on a dreary early November afternoon.

Early December in the Selkirk Range, BC Canada. 

Skinning through an old burn, about to enjoy 4,000 feet of Montana powder in Glacier NP. Photo by Jared

Just before Christmas 2010.  JD on rappel in the NW Couloir of the Pfeifferhorn. 

Jon Swain, the consummate powder whore, having some more for breakfast on Superior.

JD running in the new year in Zion NP.

A gang of stubborn skiers, refusing to lower ourselves to booting in the Memorial Couloirs, Mount Olympus. Photo by JD

First tracks in the Terminal Cancer Couloir, Ruby Mountains. Photo by JD

JD putting in a boot track in the TC.  

Timp in late Winter conditions.  Photo by JD

JD sneaking around the big mine,  Oquirrh Mountains

Blustery winter day on the North Ridge of the Pfeiff.  Photo by JD

Brian Harder in the Ford Couloir, Grand Teton

Trying to find my way around a melted out section of Cocietti's Ribbon in May.  Photo by AOK

Brian Harder, traversing into the Black Ice Couloir, Grand Teton.

Corn below Mount Whitney.  Photo by JD

Down climbing the Chevy Couloir in fat conditions, Grand Teton.  Photo by JD

MLK rain crust at sunset in the Oquirrhs.  

JD, dead pine, rime.  Provo Peak

Smiley Viking rapping into the unknown.  Pfeifferhorn

Sam and JD and rime.  Mount Timpanogos

Dropping in to Lone Peak Cirque.  Photo by JD

Zak Foy dropping a knee on a cold cold January morning.

Jared and JD marching onward.  Somewhere in Hogum Fork.

That's it for now.  More to come in a month or so when it starts snowing for real!

Also, the 28th to 30th of this month, the new Powderwhores movie, Breaking Trail, will be playing at Brewvies.  I hear this year it's not all smelly tele.  Can't wait!