Day 9 --12/01/10

[from the tippy top]

I FIRST SKIED ALTA in 1980 and started looking up the Superior chutes and summit, wondering what kind of skills it would take to get up there and back down.  After years of skiing and climbing outside the boundaries of controlled ski resorts, I have finally pulled together the endurance and skill set necessary to accomplish this personal milestone.

[Sierra summits]

With the emergence of wide skis, lightweight boots and bindings, and technical clothing, it is probably less of a feat than it was for those few who accomplished it with skinny skis, flimsy bindings, and leather boots.  But Mt. Superior, at a little over 11,000 feet, and with it narrow avalanche funnels down its front face, is still a serious undertaking.

[this big]

Brad and I started up our usual track toward Cardiff Bowl, getting a feel for the snow, but not sure which line we would approach.  A half hour into the climb, a young woman  joined us and kept pace. In spite of climbing in stiff alpine boots, and only recently recovered from a five day siege of food poisoning, Sierra (no kidding) was full of spirit and looking for a route to the top of Superior.  We knew the route and conditions looked favorable.  "Let's go," we agreed.
The safest route actually winds around the back side and we skied a chute into Cardiac basin, a good test of the snow stability, as well as an irresistible line.  Skinning back up to the ridgeline, we could see a clean line to the summit.

[dropping to our entry point]

Intermittent cloud cover had cleared above about 8,000 feet and from the top, with a clear line to cell towers for hundreds of miles, Sierra called her boyfriend who was grinding ski bases at the Deep Powder house in the canyon.  "Hi, honey.  Look out the window.  I'm at the tip-top of Superior!"

[a milestone]

There were two sets of perfectly scalloped tracks down the back bowl and it was clear that the best skiing was probably on the northern aspect.  But the convergence of low hazard and decent snow made it a no-brainer.  After a few ski cuts to confirm the stability, we skied creamy, consistent snow, diving through choke points and into new chutes, finally breaking out across the broad apron that took us back to the road.  We looked back up before a cloud puff obscured the peak and had a moment to enjoy our three solitary sets of tracks, top to bottom.  The mountains are like that: your summits are fleeting, your story quickly concealed by clouds, melt, another layer of snow.
Though I continue to ski boldly and with my full physical capacities, it is without question that my ability to pursue summits will one day wane.  But as long as I am able to travel up this canyon, I will be able to look up Superior and take pleasure from the memory: "I was there, I did that."


Day's Vertical: 3,900.  Season to Date: 33,100.