skistories: Waterfalls Canyon

Mount Moran

Eagle's Rest eastern massif

The Cathedral Group from the north

NE face of Moran with the Sickle Couloir being the prominent ling in the middle

Following the tradition of my Great-Great Grandfather Roald Amundsen, I towed a sled on skis for the first time. Davey and I crossed Jackson Lake to camp at the base of Waterfalls Canyon. The sled was a great way to haul in lots of gear with little additional effort. Notice the bungee cord?

Waterfalls Canyon

The proposed route up to eastern flank of the Eagle's Rest

Davey where the going was a bit steep

After following a skin track to a dead end, we got some sweet turns

back down to the canyon so we could try getting up a different way.

The legs were willing, but it was a race against time to make it up

I told myself, "as soon as the shadows cross the lake we should head down before it gets too late." Well, the shadows crossed the lake but I figured, "hell, we've got headlamps," and we kept going. We were pretty high when we came to a spot too firm and steep to skin up, so we started bootpacking. We then encountered a layer of wind slab on an exposed part. It didn't feel stable so it turned us around instead of the encroaching darkness.

The next day, Davey heading up the burn

The camp was set in the clouds below. After a night of inversion and temps down to around -15, it was great to bask in the warmth of the sun again.

Dinner was cold last night. We sat under the stars, looking at the moonlit mountains and remarking about how it was really cold out. It took forever to boil the water. You had to eat your food as fast as you could before it froze. Water bottles froze quickly and you couldn't unscrew the tops. Everything was freezing: contact solution, sunscreen, food, ski boots, batteries, camera, phone, headlamp, beacon, gloves, feet. Everything had to to be put inside the sleeping bag so it would work the next day.

I pulled out some heat packets I get every Christmas but have never used. I just keep them for emergency purposes. I opened them and waited for their crackling warmth to thaw my frozen feet, but they were useless. There was an expiration date but it was rubbed out. Next time, it would be wise to put a cooler on the sled, a big one that you could fit all this stuff in that you don't want to freeze, then have some brand new heat packets to toss in before bed time so you can have the sleeping bag all to yourself.

One thing I did do well, was to bring The Economist to read at night. It put me to sleep quickly at 8pm and I wouldn't care if it got ruined. The night went well. Our -20 sleeping bags kept us from pulling a Brokeback maneuver.

The morning was freezing. Davey was up first. I ate some granola bars in my sleeping bag and told him when he's ready to go, I'm going to put on my frozen ski pants, spring out of the tent, stomp on my frozen ski boots, and start going uphill to get above the clouds. I wanted to either be in the sleeping bag or going uphill. It was far too cold in the cloud to do anything else.