BC Hut

Getting into Canada was harder than Conor and I expected. We had our passports and were courteous to the border guard, but we didn't have a plan for being "suspected for American refugees." It was one in the morning and we went through a long interrogation as to our origins, work, etc. It came out that between the two of us, we've lived in 15 states and had dozens of jobs in the past couple years.

"So you don't have a real job nor own a home. You have limited or no connection to the United States. How much money do you have access to?"


"Millions."


"Are you serious?"


"Very."


"OK you can go but you must be out of our country in two weeks."

Mt. Joffre

Keith's Hut is just over the first ridge

Mt. Matier

The Anniversary Glacier

The Kiwi said, "So that's an avalanche transceiver, eh?

Do they set them off or put them back together."

The lunar landscape of the E Face of Joffre

Heading up the Anniversary at sundown

"More mountains in all directions than I had ever seen before."

Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It

A view down the E Face of Matier from the Col

We'll have to return for these couloirs

At the hut one night, three people arrived at midnight while Conor and I were sound asleep. We were both awakened by the snoring but, not knowing others had joined us, each of us assumed it was the other, inciting a ferocious argument, "Conor stop snoring!"

"It's not me, it's you man. Jesus!"

Meanwhile the snoring continued through our argument and then the perpetrator awoke and became self-conscious enough to stop it for a bit.

Mt Moran N Face on drive home

The Slot

When Conor and I arrived in Seattle, we went to King's in Ballard with the White brothers to have a few brewskis and catch up. Mike told me he had skied the Slot Clouloir this year, the impetus being his REI coworker Loren coming into work one day exclaiming, "I skied the Slot! I skied the Slot!!" Mike lit up talking about the cliffs of the slot and how it's one of the most aesthetic lines of his life. Conor and I were sucked in. I knew the general area of where it was but was not sure at all. I've only heard how hidden it is. Mike had to work the next day but Ryan was free and would be our guide.  

We met at the Alpental lot in the morn and, after days of surfing and not using my legs, combined with Loren's, "I skied the Slot! I skied the Slot!!" reverberating in my head, I was amped to just run up the mountain to look for it.  Almost two hours later, Cam, Ryan, Conor and I reached the ridge to peer into the Snot Couloir, the entrance of which might have been possible to ski without rappelling into it.  But we kept going up, me being very nervous about the avalanche conditions of the slope we were on.  Then, in the lead, I looked to my left for no reason and, though the trees, I saw the Slot right next to me.  It really is hidden!

We were very unsure of what the snow would be like inside this north facing socked in couloir.  The top looked like a sheet of ice.  I didn't want to be the first to go so Mulroy stepped up.  He snowboarded across the top with his ice ax handy, jumping up and down to try to get anything to move, but the slope wasn't going anywhere.  Then he rode down to the dogleg under a cliff to wait for us to go one at a time.  Cam had not skied much this season, being more of a climber, and was nervous at the steep and icy entrance.  He said, "I mean I'll give it a shot but . . . jesus."

After the dogleg the snow turned to powder and huge cliffs engulfed us.  We went down hollering of course.

The Slot Couloir on Snoqualmie

Looking down the Snot Couloir

Cam's "Happy Mother's Day" picture

The entrance of the Slot

The opening at the dogleg

Ryan White hauling ass out of the constriction

Conor Mulroy

Cam

Conor and Cam below the exit

The Snot

And the Slot

The cliffs through which the Slot passes

The South Sister, OR

"Where are you guys from?" asked a Bend resident in the Mt. Bachelor parking lot.

"Jackson, Wyoming."

"Where are you heading?"

"We're thinking about the South Sister."

"Does anybody know you're going up there?"

"Nope."

"Well, what if something goes wrong?"

"We'll make it out.  If we don't, Darwinism.  We deserve it."

"Shit you guys are hard core."

We're not actually.  We just didn't have any plans and were winging it.  After the conversation I called my mom and told her to call for help if she didn't hear from me in a couple days.  I forgot to tell her what mountain and what route, but it wouldn't have mattered since she'd forget anyway.  I called her the next day after we got turned around by weather, to say we were OK, but she had already forgotten the whole thing anyway.  You'd think a mom would be really good at remembering things like safety and sons.

The South Sister, S Face

Broke Top Mountain, W Face

Mt. Bachelor, NW Face