Day 23-24 -- 5/14-15/2011

WELL, THE WORLD WAS SUPPOSED TO END on May 21st, according to one evangelist's exhaustive decoding of the scriptures.  But for me, my ski season rapture happened over the weekend of May 14th and 15th, back with Brad in the Carson Pass area of the Northern Sierras.

[dogs allowed]

On Saturday we got to climb the eponymous Stevens Peak, dogs included, for a great plunge about 3,000 feet to the highway, with an preliminary lap thrown in on the ascent.
The second day arrived with a foot of new, light snow and the choice of many lines on either side of the highway.  But, poetically, we ended the day as I had begun it almost six months earlier -- in bounds at a ski area, taking advantage of the abandoned terrain with stilled chairs overhead and huge, untouched powder fields in every direction.

[the storms kept coming into June]

At the top of the liftline we got to ski the best lines at Kirkwood, then cruised back to the car, without ceremony, thinking surely that we would be back for at least one more trip or two before quitting on a season that didn't showed any signs of quitting on us.
But for me, the season was done, coming up short on my goal of 100k of vertical, though slightly exceeding my total of 70,000 feet from the previous season.
As I write this, it is almost 90 degrees with high humidity in New York City.  It's hard to say what the off-season will bring in terms of changes to my conditioning, ambitions, and access to the mountains, vastly reset with Brad moving far from our so convenient access to the Wasatch in Sandy, Utah.

[spring skiing -- not!!!!]

It was a truly amazing year, starting with unrelenting blasts of wind nearly every day that pushes back against every uphill stride, with the season finally settling into a stretch of voluptuous deep-falls of consistent powder, fresh and ever-renewing.  A record snowfall of 750 inches recorded at Snowbird.  And as the jewel of the season, the opportunity to shoot the steep channels of Mt. Superior, peak to highway.
All I know is that just this past week, while working on a writing project, I found myself drifting to Backcountry.com, browsing the overstock and off-season deals.  All I can say is that those Dynafit Stokes look like one fine ride.

Days' Vertical: 5,800                                                Season to Date: 72,300

Day 22 -- 5/1/2011

THIS WAS WHAT you'd call a Forrest Gump kind of day.  Life being the box of chocolates thing.  Last night, I packed my ski gear and gathered beta on Mt. Baden-Powell, the second highest peak here in the San Gabriels.  With the recent SoCal warm spell, the deep snowpack in the local mountains has been receding quickly.  But, even with the warm temps, I was pretty sure that Baden-Powell, with its north facing chutes and timbered glades, would probably still hold enough snow for some  decent corn, especially on the higher pitches.
Though the west is covered with unprecedented snowpack, warm weather activities beckon, and reliable ski partners have now turned their interest to mountain biking,  rock climbing, kite-sailing.  This could be the last shot.
I set the alarm for seven but was up by six-thirty, primed for a quick getaway,  The trip to the Baden-Powell trailhead is about 70 miles, requiring and end run around the eastern gap of the San Gabriels by way of the Cajon Pass and Wrightwood.

[ascent, by other means]

Passing Mountain High, things were looking pretty grim with barely a trace of snow at 6,000, even on the north faces.  The Baden-Powell trailhead parking lot is just a couple of miles further.  A Scout troop was forming up for a hike to the summit.  Not a ski, snowshoe, or winter boot in the group.  There was definitely snow in the summit chutes, but access would require a couple thousand feet of hiking on dirt in AT boots -- not a happy prospect.
I wished the Troop Leaders good luck and turned the car around for the return trip to Pasadena.
I was back home before noon and focused on some chores and clean up.  But as I was sweeping out the garage, I had a thought as I looked at the bikes hanging from the rafters.  So I loaded up a set of wheels and headed to the trailheads above Altadena.  It was hot and dusty, and my box of chocolates proved that there's more than one way to ascend a mountain.

Day's Vertical: 2,500*                                    Season to Date: Still 66,500

Dog Days 19, 20, 21 -- 4/23-25/2011

YOU CAN’T TAKE your dog into a restaurant, grocery store, or barber shop.  But the good news is that, in many areas, you can take your dog skiing!

[mason, solar engineer]

With vast amounts of snow heaped all over the western mountains, skiing is stellar, and the exceptional conditions should continue into the summer months.  (Note: Mammoth is talking about a twelve-month season.)  Though Brad and I haven’t skied together since his move to Alameda in late January, we hooked up for a three-day Easter exploratory trip to the western Sierras.  (My Sierra experience, though considerable, is limited to the “east side”.)

Carson Pass, southeast of Tahoe, is a hugely popular backcountry destination, with a vast selection of world class peaks and descents.  We had the good luck to hook up with a veteran of the region, Mason Terry, a solar engineer from Palo Alto, who provided great route finding and beta.  An additional benefit was his dog Kali, a robust Chow-Lab mix who jaunted ahead of us on the uptrack,

[kali, hardy mountain guide]

and dashed downslope with the glee of any true-blue shredder.  For a twelve-year-old (82 in human years), Kali proved to be a hearty and inexhaustible alpinist, usually jaunting ahead and turning back, wondering why we were such slowpokes.

Brad’s dog, Luke, was along for the weekend.  But on a past trip a few years ago out of Utah’s Amerian Fork, Luke struggled in the breakable crust and Brad was concerned if he was suitably conditioned for the rigors of a long day at
high altitude.  So Luke stayed behind for our second day in the cabin at Sorenson’s Resort. (A plug here for the wonderful hospitality and great food at this little cabin enclave 15 miles east of the Kirkwood.)

[kali leads to summit]

So Sunday, with Kali leading the way with the keen route finding acumen of a seasoned alpine guide, we climbed Steven’s Peak -- no relation, though I did feel a sense of kinship after two creamy powder runs from the 10,000 foot summit.

[first turns off mt. stevens]

Monday was our getway day and Brad decided to give Luke a tryout in the relatively mellow terrain east of Red Lake  -- mellow in the sense that this would only rate a single black diamond at a regular ski resort.  Luke proved a natural mountaineer, bounding ahead, around, off into the trees, back down to reconnect.  If we traveled three miles, Luke probably covered three times that, investigating every scent, probing every stump and varmint hole.  He was in sensory nirvana, overwhelmed by an infinite palette of natural stimuli.

[dude, let's ski!]

At a rock-pile peak overlooking the east rim of Red Lake, he bounded up the wind-scoured rocks for his first alpine summit.  Then came the real fun – the plunge back down to the car.  Luke dove down the fall line, a true shredder, porpoising through the deep snow, hooked on the thrill of a steep and deep line through the trees.

Mountains seem a natural habitat for dogs, which reminds me a my climb of Pico Orizaba in Mexico.  On a training dash up Malinche (14,500), we were joined by a companion group of feral local dogs who happily guided the rugged talus route to the summit block.  They scrambled to the top for the meager reward of a piece of Power Bar or some sandwich scraps. But, equally I think, they simply appreciated
the amicable company of fellow high-altitude travelers.

It was a great intro day for Luke, and now that he has proven his chops, no doubt the first of many in coming seasons.  In sum, this was a great ski weekend in new terrain, gaining three new ski buds – Mason and Kali from Palo Alto, and Luke, the shredder dog.

Weekend's Vertical: 6,500                           Season to Date: 66,500

Shop Talk -- 4/21/2011

TODAY’S SKI TECHNOLOGY is driven by carbon fiber, graphite bases, and titanium technologies.  But will a ski weekend be saved by a fifty/sixty year old hardware store staple?

[the Markers/Salomon of their day]

A trip was set for the Western Sierra over the Easter weekend of April 23 to 25.  With my primary ski kit stored in Utah, I was going to have to make do with older ski gear that I keep in SoCal for quick trips to the Sierras and local mountains.

[bear traps circa 1950]

I have a nearly 10-year-old pair of BD Crossbows, a proven lightweight that I remember for dozens of great days – from Utah, to the Eastern Sierras, Mammoth, and one trip up and down Shasta.  However, these skis have already been drilled more times than a company of Marine Corps “boots”, twice with Fritschis, once with Dynafits.  Ski mechanic doctrine holds that skis should never be mounted more than twice.  But I have evolved into a complete disciple of the feather-weight Dynafit line and ordered a pair of TLT Speeds to replace the mounted Fritischis, providing me a low-weight SoCal setup.

[Dynafit heel piece]

I don’t have access to a Dynafit mounting template but the drill holes from the last Dynafits were still present, sealed with silicone.  After cleaning the holes, I realized that the mounting screws were a less-than-bomber fit.  The idea of a binding tearing loose, miles into the backcounty, was sobering.  So how to insure a snug screw fit?  Superglue?  Epoxy?  Chewing gum?

[steel wool sprouts]

Then a thought occurred from my early days of skiing (50s/60s) when the “bear trap” was the Marker Jesters of their day, a steel box that clamped the toe of the boot to the ski.  It was common then to frequently adjust the span of the clamshell to accommodate growing feet and loan-outs to ski buddies.  Mounting screws were constantly loosened and re-tightened, resulting in sloshy screw holes.  The low-tech fix was steel wool, shredded into short clumps and wadded into the holes.  A few shreds from a twenty-cent boll of steel wool created a bomber fit.

[the old tech standby]

So, considering my sloppy ski holes, that 50-year-old solution came to mind.  At my local Osh store, steel wool was no longer two bits but four bucks for a package, Medium Coarse.

Back at the work bench, I twirled off a few strands of the steel wool and twisted them into the holes.  Then a few drops of epoxy as a concession to modern materials.  Placing the Dynafit components over the pre-drilled holes, I tightened the screws.  A snug fit, torqued down hand-tight.  With the old Fritschi screw holes sealed with silicone, we were ready to hit the road. 

[mounted and ready to ski -- 400 miles away]

Sintered graphite bases, Densolite cores, carbide steel dura edges.  And wadded steel wool.  We’ll be in the Sierras, southwest of Tahoe for three days.  A great test to see how a fifty-year-old low tech solution holds up.

All this is testimony to the fact that western mountains are still piling up record amounts of snow and late-season skiing is still epic.  In fact, Mammoth Mountain has recorded so much snow this season that they are talking about a 12-month season.  So, expect more posts here.

Day 18 -- 2/27/2011

THE SAN GABRIEL Mountains form a massive barrier between the Los

Angeles basin and the Mojave Desert.  With peaks rising to 10,000 feet, the San Gabriels are geologically recognized as one of the steepest and fastest growing ranges in the world.  Anywhere in the world but L.A., where “big” is accepted as a kind of norm, this range would be regarded as a significant alpine feature.  (Mt. Mansfield in my native Vermont Green Mountains would hardly even create a bulge in the list of top peaks in the San Gabes.)

[the crystaline l.a. skies]

As of early February, my reliable Wasatch crash-pad is no longer available and I have had to relocate my base of operations to my home in Pasadena, better known as the home of Tournament of Roses.  However Pasadena, with its not-so-untypical January 70 degree temperatures, is also at the foot of the San Gabriels, which comb high altitude weather currents and can pile up significant heaps of snow during the California rainy season.

[spiny yucca darts]

This year has been a record breaker for moisture and cool temperatures and snow has been stacking in the San Gabriels, most notably on the flanks of Mount Baldy (10,068), which is about 30 miles as the crow flies from the parking lot of my neighborhood Starbucks, where I fueled up early on February 27th. Up to three feet of new powder had stacked up on the higher elevations, with temperatures on the peaks in the teens.

The first challenge, arriving at Manker Flats 6,000 feet above Claremont, was just finding a place to park.  Hundreds of families had already arrived, jammed and double-parked on either side of the road, turning the shoulders into a slick and sticky white rave.

[Dave Braun's smooth sweeps]

I have summited Baldy at least ten times, in every season, but this was the first time I have been able to skin directly from the Manker trailhead.  A track was already in place by 9 a.m.   A good thing because I wouldn’t be breaking 4,000 feet of trail.  But it also meant I wasn’t here with an original idea.

The air was crystalline and the snow deep, making prickly puff balls of the succulent yucca plants.  Note to self: do not fall on one of these dagger balls on the way down.  It’s a long way to the nearest ER.

At 8,200 feet, the flat spaces around the Sierra Club hut were crowded with arrivals from a couple of hiking groups, working on their snow travel skills.  Baldy Bowl rises in a huge sweep above the hut to the summit and I only counted a half dozen sets of tracks.  Close to a mile in diameter, Baldy Bowl is so huge that it would even stagger Little Cloud Bowl and the Ballroom chutes.  Though the air temperature was in the high 20s, the radiant heat off the snow made it T-shirt weather and I knew the snow would turn to sticky mush by afternoon.

[resting, summit ridge]

On the way to the summit ridge I ran into a guy from La Canada who had already turned a few laps and was moving fast on a light set-up of free-heels and Goode carbons – not the kind of advanced gear you would expect to find in the So Cal mountains.  Dave was scrolling beautiful turns, systematically ticking off the series of chutes that channel down into the bowl from the summit ridge.

[the oscar for best...]

I picked one of the chutes that Dave had already tracked, a 50 degree couloir pinched at two choke points, less than a couple ski-lengths wide at the narrows.  The snow was creamy and stable.  The pay-off for three hours of climbing was a 90 second drop back into the bowl.  A worthwhile return on investment?  Damn straight!

I looked back up the well-grooved track to the ridgeline for another lap.  But it was nearly 2 and I had been invited to an Oscar party.  I also knew the terrain below the hut would be melting, rocky, and cautious going.  And, hey, it’s still Hollywood.

Day's Vertical: 3,600.                          Season to Date: 60,000

Day 17 -- 2/18/2011

[comfort class at 24k]

[the captain, pre flight]

WITHOUT MY FRIENDS and their generous hospitality, there is no way I would be able to amass the number of ski days I enjoy over the course of the season.  This past weekend – Feb. 17 - 21 – I was able to catch a ride up to Park City on John Rigney’s super cushy Cheyenne turbo prop.  Having already driven two round-trippers this season from Pasadena to Salt Lake,

[altitude gain the hard way]

 it was a joy to stretch out in the comfy pressurized cabin, seat tilted back with feet up on the facing seat, while I dozed comfortably on the two-and-a-half hour trip at 24,000 feet above the storms and turbulence.

We skied twice over the weekend, with the second day in two feet of freshies at Career (Deer) Valley.  The snow was creamy and knee-deep.  But even the most secretive DV powder stashes were shredded up by mid morning.  Plus, at 90 Samoleans for a lift ticket, it reinforces why so many skiers are chosing manual ascent.

Two days earlier, John and I did just that.  We started out from the upper Alta Parking lot, headed for East Silverfork.  However two hundred yards into the ascent, John’s Dynafit heel tower snapped.  But thanks to a quick repair at Black Diamond, Retail Manager Dennis Maw saved the day and we were back on our way into the mountains via Big Cottonwood to enjoy a steep, untracked descent off the backside of Short Swing, north of the Spruces area.  Another day enjoyed, thanks to the kindness of good friends.

For those skiing the Dynafit line, here is a great instructional video from Lou Dawson with tips for smooth operation of the sometimes tricky binding.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_DysqbyjyRc&feature=related

Day's Vertical: 1,900.  Season to Date: 56,400

Days 15, 16 - 2/2 - 2/4/2011

WE KNOW THAT VIGOROUS activity, in the form of sports, creates an array of benefits: good heart health, weight control, and a balanced emotional life.  But, personally speaking, I am intrigued by the way that sports reveals the true measure of an individual.  I once played racquetball with a casual acquaintance who I tended to think of as generally self-absorbed, petty, and not particularly.  Suitable company for an hour of bashing the ball around, but nobody I was going trust with any investments.

[gone for California]

Our skills matched up well and the level of our games improved on roughly the same arc.  Simon (not his real name) was a focused player who ferociously challenged every point.  He fought to the
last drop of sweat or gram of energy to beat you, and was childishly jubilant when he won, though never gloating at the expense of his adversary.  And when the points didn’t go his way, Simon was a gracious loser, never putting the blame on his racquet, the lights, the court.  When a call was close, he usually conceded the point.  So over the course of our playing relationship, I noticed a turnabout on my opinion of the man.  Through the crucible of intensely wrought competition, I observed a guy who I had came to admire and even regard with a kind of affection.

This story is to preface a turn of events that has completely changed this ski season for me.  My friend Brad, a durable and skilled backcountry companion, and a figure in many of these blog entries, has been forced by this devastating job market to give up his Wasatch home and relocated for work in The Bay area.  From our first meeting, I recognized Brad as a cheerful, generous, and reliable fellow.   But it was through the process of skiing, climbing, and biking together that I came to recognize his more enduring qualities:  an uncommon civility and gregariousness, calm under fire, and a keen mind for the nuances of personality and character
.

[the payoff]

Safely climbing and skiing these mountains is a formidable undertaking.  Grinding uphill, sometimes for hours on end with a 15 or 20 pound back, on heavy skis and boots, often in brutal weather – this is no pursuit for the casual recreationalist.  But the pay-off comes in the opportunity to ski snow and terrain that would normally be prohibited within the bounds of most ski areas.  The backcountry also presents many hazards, not the least of which are avalanches, frostbite, treed terrain, and unarrested plunges down glassy chutes.  People who will hold your life at the end of a 9 millimeter rope must be proven for skill, reliability, and good judgment.  In my friend Brad Carroll, these characteristics were only completely revealed through many hard days crossing the Wasatch, Sierras, Rainier, and the Alps.  It’s the pursuit of sports, at its extreme boundaries, that brings out these traits.

[new cohort - David, Tom, Sue]

Brad has this genius for picking up conversations with completely strangers, and since meeting on an airport parking shuttle in 2003, we have skied and climbed hundreds of days together.  Though he may have moved to the more civil flats of the Bay tideline, I am sure we will ski and climb again.  Still, an era has passed and my days in the mountains will never be quite the same
.

I have taken up with a new cohort in the backcountry.  Returning to Utah from a circular tour of New York and Vermont, I hooked up with David Kliger, a convert from the miserable ski rinks of Northern New England, and two of his Connecticut friends, Sue and Tom.  Highly agreeable folks and skilled skiers with a helpful and informed wariness of backcountry travel.

[Sue and Dave at minus 8]

With minus eight and ten degree temps on February 2^nd, we layered up and found good snow in the Rocky Point and Dry Creek drainage off the back of Alta’s Supreme Lift.  February 4^th was milder (slightly) with a stellar plunge down Holy Toledo, then shits-and-giggles-good laps off the north side of Benson Ridge.  Though I have seen enough to trust their skills and mountain judgement, I haven’t skied enough days with them to fill out a true picture of their temper and nature. But that will come.  You know, sports has a way of doing that.

Days' Vertical: 3,100 and 3,000     Season to Date: 54,500