Jackson Again

A deep november day on Teton Pass. Notice: my snowpants are black.



In the hut on top of Mount Glory



Rob Backlund, a man who preaches to earn your turns and release the training heels.

It was good to be back in Jackson and it was also good to have been
gone for a year. That way we could see it from a different angle and
see how important it was to us. It was a good year to miss as it was
freezing cold and didn't snow much. But Rob and I returned in October
and a week later it snowed hard and we went up to the pass to tour
around and maybe find a good grass slope on Edelweis to make some
turns.

It didn't snow again for a few weeks and that was fine. I had
plenty of work to do to build up an income before the season was
really under way. When it did snow again, Rob and I did the long hike
up Glory and skied the northeast face of the Great White Hump. We had
did long laps in the deep snow, and were very happy with our choice
to come here. Skinning up a different route in search of different
terrain, we had to cross a slope. We went one at a time with me in
the lead. When I got half-way across, there was a thunderous
"Whoomf!" and I immediately looked back at Rob and yelled "Get Off!"
With my skins still on and my naxos in climbing mode, I would not be
able to put up a fight against and avalanche. I knew I was screwed.
It wasn't too far of a runout though, it wasn't exposed, and Rob would
not be caught. So I braced myself, and it didn't come. We turned
around and got off the damn slope anyway.

The next storm was not far behind and we lapped the western ridges of
Glory, not dropping below halfway for lack of snow. It was a warmer
fall and the snow only fell on the upper half of the mountains, and
rained below that. The pass was high enough so we were quite pleased,
and we found plenty of good skiing and nobody was up yet. In town,
everybody looked at us funny in our snow pants and skis.
But we were in great shape and when the next storm hit at the end of
November, the pass was in full force again with more people than I'd ever seen before.

On the pass, a fat texan couple in fur coats took pictures of backcountry skiers like we were giraffes on the Serengetti, another world from their lives.
The big woman asked me, "Where are you hiking to?"
I pointed my ski pole up the boot pack of Mt. Glory and said, "See
that big green billboard up there? That's near the top. We're going up there."
"Are you crazy or something?"
"In my book, you'd be crazy not to do it. Doing the stairmaster for an hour, THAT's crazy."
Then we crossed the road, skis strapped to our packs, and we entered
our world apart from theirs.


The bootpack up Glory was crowded. We didn't mind the crowd though because we knew where the snow was good and not tracked up. And we were proud to have our
climbing legs very strong while the crowd did not. We hiked up
quickly and effortlessly, passing the huffers and puffers every few
minutes and not having anybody get close to us. Occasionally there'd
be some guy who didn't want to get passed and would quicken his pace
to get ahead by ten yeards, but then he'd get tired and you'd be on
his heels again, then he'd sprint forward again and slow down and you'd
be steadily back on his heels and he'd pull over, completely
exhausted, while you hiked up quietly and quickly with agile steps.
By this time the pass was great and we'd been skiing for a week
straight. We went to the ski cabin in the Gros Ventre mountains too.

In late October my old ski buddies Peter Hudnut and Conor Mulroy moved
on out to Jackson. Conor said it was the best decision of his life.
Rob said that Jackson is really like an extension
of the Colorado College: same people and same lifestyle. And many
times I go up to the pass I run into friends from college I had not
seen in years. It's like a mini reunion on top of the pass. And I
feel proud to think that our little college pumps out more mountain
town residents per capita than any other college in the nation.

Chinook Pass

Chinook Pass, late June, with the White brothers. This was my last day of the season. The Whites went to Mount Adams next before calling it quits. Chinook had beautiful, sunny weather and great views of Rainier. We parked at the lot just east of the top because there were bathrooms there and the morning's espresso had acted as a pinball machine in our bodies, making those bathrooms the top priority in parking. Then we got geared up and hiked up and over the immediate slope. We were exuberant at our discovery of great terrain and a deep snowpack of corn snow. Looking at the jumble of crevasses on the Emmons glacier I gave up the idea of ever sking it--at least for a few years.


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The peak we skied on our second run. Great corn snow, access as easy as it gets, deep snow pack, temperature in the 60s, the works.


Mike taking a breather after a very steep bootpack up a chute. Mount Adams is in the distance beyond the Goat Rocks.



One of the most spectacular mountaintops of the season.



The last steep line of the season.



Enjoying it.



The line.
Chinook is a hell of an ideal place for late season turns.

The Burroughs, Sunrise on Rainier

On June 24th 2007, Matt Gardner, Jessica Wolfskehl and I went to Sunrise on Mount Rainier in search of corn snow next to that peak of Himalayan proportions. While there was less snow on the approach than expected, the skiing was nevertheless fantastic, and the clouds on the eastern side of the mountain cleared now and then to afford spectacular views of the big boy next to us. The nice thing about Sunrise is that, while it receives less snow than Paradise, that also means it gets better weather. The approach was an easy hike. The north-facing bowls off the ridge that leads to the Burroughs looked very good and probably will remain so through July. I don't know if I'll still be skiing then, but I might. At home, I keep telling myself, "keep at it because now all the big mountains are at their safest, and the weather is so nice. There is so much left to ski here! Next year you need to not start in November, but wait till January so you have more passion for summer skiing." But when I'm up in the mountains with skis that passion refuels instantaneously.

If you look closely, you might be able to find the climbers bootpack up Rainier. It was entertaining to watch the climbers progress up the huge face, weaving through the crevasses. All the while I can't help but think about how much it would suck to walk back down the whole thing.



Gardner warming up after a two month hiatus.



One thing this site needs is more pictures like this. Thanks Jess



This was Jess's first backcountry ski excursion. We tried to make it as easy as possible on her, therefore she didn't have to carry a thing, not even her skis on the hike up. But she did have to suffer with Alpine Trekkers.



The bowls of the Burroughs we skied and the Mother of Water watching over them, waiting to supply them with more precipitation when needed. Overall, a beautiful day once again, and, as usual, after checking one more off the list of "must ski," a dozen other lines were added, particularly the north bowls.

The Season in Review: Washington

"No powder in Washington?! No powder in Washington?!" Selling people skis at Seattle's REI store I reached the zenith of exasperation. In order to apprehend what type of ski the customer needed, I would ask if they were looking for something to ski powder, groomed trails, moguls, or park. They'd all say, "Well, I like powder but, come on, we're in Washington. There's no powder in Washington." "Oh, I'm terribly sorry Sir Ignoramus, I forgot that 99% of skiers don't know diddly about the sport and seek their trails in the lowlands of Snoqualmie where the snow falls wet and the hills are very gentle to ski down. If you just go up another thousand feet the snow is very deep and fluffy. In fact, the past 10 days I've been out I've had spectacular powder splashing into my face."
It is true there is less powder in WA usually than Alta or Jackson, but from November-January this past season there was more here than any other place in the world, especially at Mount Baker, which holds the world record snowfall at 1140 inches in a season. This past season, Baker received a mere 240 inches in November, giving them a deeper base than nearly every other mountain in the world had all winter. So you can see why I am exasperated when that phrase, "There's no powder in Washington, there's no powder in Washington" reverberates through REI from not only the customers but the employees. I just moved in to this state and know its not true.
Anyhoo, the mountains are unbeatable here in Washington. The best in the lower 48. Mount Rainier is the biggest in the lower 48 (not the highest though). And there's skiing yearround. It's mid June and I'm still waiting on Mount Adams to come into pristine condition and for the road to melt out. And frankly, this season is outlasting my desire to ski. There's still plenty of skiing here and I'm itching to go surfing instead now. So this is the first season I've been outlasted.
Here's the gist of it: Mount Baker gets the most snow in the world, the ski area next to it is very low-key, cheap, unbeatable backcountry access, incredible terrain, unbelievable views, short vertical inbounds though it really doesn't feel like a small mountain. The problem is that there's not really any towns close to it so ski bumming there would suck for me, and its 3 hours from Seattle unless you drive really fast. I'm not sure if those are really problems though.
Then the next mountain south is Steven's Pass. The mountain looks decent, but I've never skied it because the north side of the road has such good backcountry access you don't need to pay for. Skyline Ridge has tons of options and the easy 30 minute skin up to gain 1700 vert, is very convenient. It is 2 hrs from Seattle.
Next you have Snoqualmie Pass (we're working our way south from Baker). The north side of the highway looks like the Alps, the south like Wisconsin, almost. Alpental is on the north, the Summit at Snoqualmie is on the south. I don't need to say much more, except Alpental has awesome terrain and backcountry too. It is true that the elevation here is 1,000 feet lower than at Baker and Stevens, but hell, I was just skiing last week there, in June, and there's still a deep base. The snow stays out here. 45 minutes from Seattle.
Then you have Crystal Mountain. Awesome terrain, 3,000 vertical feet, and the summit is at 7,000 feet. Crystal is an excellent mountain with jaw-dropping views of the big mountain the next valley over named by the Indains "The Mother of Water." I forgot the white-man's name for it. Oh yeah, Rainier. Crystal also has great backcountry access. It's more expensive to ski there than Alpental or Baker. 2 hrs from Seattle.
Well, as you can see in all my wanderings on this site, I've been searching for a place to stay. I think I've found it here in Washington. At least for five years. Then its time for Europe, South America, and back to New Zealand, which is what Washington really feels like. With Whistler and Hood, Vancouver and Portland, BC and Oregon, within striking distance, why not stay 5 years?

The North Cascades, Washington Pass

The Liberty Bell

When we pulled off the highway at the top of Washington Pass to sleep inside Mort, Peter's big ugly van, it started raining hard. Pleasant for sleeping, unless sleeping will be followed by skiing in the morning. It had occured to us that it might be snowing on top, but probably only the very top of the mountains. When we awoke to see snow had covered everything, we were pleasantly surprised. We might have the last powder day of the season on our hands. Sure enough, up top it had snowed up to 10". Not bad for mid-May skiing.

The Early Winter Spires with Peter Hudnut and Travis Solberg. They call the mountains around here the American Alps. And any reference to the Alps around Herr Solberg and he's ecstatic and instantly in love with whatever it is.

Driving down the North Cascades Highway our eyes were glued to the windshield. At one point, Peter, driving, told Travis behind him to stop shouting "Holy Shit!" in his ear, and that we were not going to pull over for pictures anymore. So we conitinued down the road a bit more quietly but no less awed by the gigantic mountains that rise so sharply.

When three skiers who all like to make decisions come together for a day in the mountains and the decisions do not agree with each other, there tends to be a bit of angst in the air; each skier defiantly leading his own skin track, wanting to do his own run, and stubbornly disagreeing about safety issues. We finally agreed that no matter what, majority rules. So it was fortunate we had three people instead of two. Even so, when the majority ruled and Travis still disagreed, he wouldn't let it drop. He fought for his decision very hard and, happy to be on the side of the majority, I kept replying, "Majority rules, majority rules."



The Early Winter Spires look like miny Trango Towers. With the clouds moving through them to provide many different dramatic looks combined with varying sunlight, I continually nagged Travis for his camera, insisting that they looked even more stunning now.




After deciding the avalanche danger was just a little bit risky to do the chutes between the spires, I saw this chute and instantly wanted to do it. Travis yelled his usual, "Conor, you're an idiot!" Peter was sold on it too. It just looked so good. But we slowed down to discuss it further, and that Travis needed to stop calling people idiots so frequently but that he was right, and decided that it would have been do-able a couple hours early in the day before the sun heated up the slopes, but not now. I'll be back there.
It was fun to finally ski with Peter again, my primary ski buddy at the Colorado College, who had been through many injuries since graduation. Although he'll be walking like a 70 year old by the time he's 30, he still skis hard, telemarking on 190 Made 'N AKs with Bomber Bindings, the steel contraptions that look like bear traps.


Driving back down the highway to Seattle, we pulled over at the sight of a winery to do some taste testing and eat some cheese and crackers. Hmm, why yes this Chardonne is quite fine and oh this Merlot is simply marvelous. Could we get a little more cheese and crackers, bitte? I'm not a wine guy like Peter and Trav, so I was going to ask, "Do you have any beers on tap?" but thought better of it. So I tasted the wine and stuffed myself on the cheese and crackers, and filled my pockets with pretzels. My hair needed a bit of grooming for the situation so I grabbed a fork and stepped outside for a minute.
We were asked where we were from and we talked about that for half an hour. "Crested Butte, Jackson, Seattle, Milwaukee, Chicago, Fort Collins, Germany, New Zealand, Colorado, Gloucester, Alta, Tennesee, Italy, Virginia." We told stories to the woman behind the counter, Travis telling his Italian winery story for the fifth time in two weeks, and his storytelling made me think of Norman Maclean's advise, keep them short and full of action or you'll lose your listeners quickly.
With all the food and wine we feasted on, it would be very rude if we did not buy a bottle. We all agreed on that. So at that point Peter asked, "What's your cheapest red wine?", another thing we agreed on, and bought it. We escaped to Mort and calculated with all the tasting and food we ate, that we actually broke even from the bottle of wine. Smart shopping eh? Despite Peter's large settlement money he acquired from his biking accident, he has still managed to tenaciously hold onto his parsimony.

Mount Rainier, Camp Muir

The Mother of Water

The day of the worst sunburn in my life. I don't know why I never saw it coming. But I was picking off layers of itchy skin for weeks, probably a full five layers came off the backside of my legs.

Travis Solberg with Little Tahoma in the background.



The lenticular above us, hovering like a tornado,

sucking blue sky into its abyss like a black hole.

Spectacular.

Shit for Brains, CO

There she blows, Shit For Brains, a chute on the ridge that connects Arapahoe Basin with Loveland Pass.

Getting in the last wide turns before the choke.

Travis Solberg on one of his first days of skiing after his big accident. Back in the saddle again to do Shit for Brains, a strong move indeed.

Whistler/Blackcomb

The beautiful Sarah before the long, long run down the Blackcomb Glacier

The Blackcomb Glacier

Skiers dropping into Whistler Bowl

sorrry about the dots

Travis makes a new friend that doesn't speak Deutsch

The mighty Blackcomb Glacier and our 7 mile run



Conor Mulroy came into Seattle with his brother Robert for the first riding since his big accident in the Montana backcountry two years ago that he was lucky to survive. Hesistant at first, he soon got over his fears and had not lost a stride, picing lines we had to hike to and going fast. He was very stoked to be on a board again and I was also, to have my old ski buddy back.

Cascade Pass

Johannesburg Col

Cascade Peak left, Johannesburg right