The Notch > S. Thunder > N. Thunder > Dresden > Coalpit

With the nice weather window we've had, I was anxious to link up some peaks and good ski lines. Jason Dorais and Adam OK, both who are practitioners of the Go Light Go Far discipline, joined me for the action. Our plan for the day to climb Lone Peak via Bells and ski the Northeast chute and eventually end up at the Coalpit, where we dropped a car.  Our approach from LCC road to the base of Lone Peak took about 2 hours. Here is Jason with Lone Peak in his sights:

From 2011-02-13

There are easier ways to approach and climb Lone Peak, but I've always been intrigued with climbing the chute to the distinctive notch on far looker's right in the photo below (what I call the "Notch Couloir"). From below, the ridge from Notch Couloir looks like a fairly direct and skinnable line to the summit.

From 2011-01-30

For me, Lone Peak is the grandest in the Wasatch.  I've nearly driven off the road (a few times) as I've stared at it from the valley.  Hence, yet another view.

From 2011-02-13

I thought that climbing the Notch Couloir would give us a good sense of the NE Couloir's conditions, and it did.  The bottom half was filled with decent compacted snow.  The top half was a slick ice sheet that had expelled the month's snow onto the bottom half.  Ever optimistic, we climbed the ice crusted chute to the top and then got scared and schooled by the exposure and the rock moves required to get up the notch. Here is Adam topping out:

From 2011-02-13

And Jason standing on top of a big cliff above Big Willow:

From 2011-02-13

The headwall at the top of the Notch contained some softer windblown, which we skied. It was steep! As I booted down the icy section, I knew that we wouldn't be skiing the  NE Couloir today.  The apron was nice though.

From 2011-02-13

Having just been kicked off Lone Peak, and having a lot more daylight left, we struck out for South Thunder. Here is  a shot of its northeast aspect.

From 2011-02-13

From there, we traversed the top of S Thunder Bowl and to the rim of N Thunder Bowl, and dropped in.

From 2011-02-13

We crossed N Thunder Bowl, and then took the non-direct, dumb, sugary, steep route to the top of North Thunder. The crux involved a belly crawl, a bush, and Whippet aid.

From 2011-02-13

I put crampons on to traverse the icy rocky ridge towards the Coalpit entrance, and we found ourselves looking down the Dresden Face.

From 2011-02-13

The Dresden Face is pictured below.  The photo is Adam's, taken from his blog TetonsandWasatch.com.

For Jason and I, the line was nice and soft.  Apparently, for Adam (he dropped in lookers left, depicted above), not so much.  FYI, there are two cliff bands on the face that I don't consider skiable.  With the icy conditions, we used extra caution as we approached them, and were able to skirt both of them without much problem.

At the bottom of Hogum, we said goodbye to Adam, and Jason and I began the climb to Coalpit.  Jason and I ran out of water before we descended the face, which was about 2:30 or so.  I sucked on snow and ice chunks to try to get by, but it was a thirsty climb to the top of the Coalpit. Fortunately for us, there was a nice skinner and booter in.

From 2011-02-13

Jason on top of Coalpit with 9900 vertical in his legs and about to ski a long long line.

From 2011-02-13

Fun day. I got sunburned.

The Speed Board: Y Couloir

After Skimo Nationals, I kind of lost some motivation to train.  In the battle between me (who was in favor of training) and myself (who was not), I thought that one way to make training a little more interesting would be to do speed runs at some of the more popular lines in the Wasatch.  And because want to promote speed ascents/traverses and the like (and because I'm vain), I thought I would create the "Speed Board."

A couple weeks ago, I made a speed run at the Pfeif, but I lost visibility and bailed on the knife edge ridge leading up to it.  Today, I made a run at the Y Couloir.  I had planned to do some boring intervals at the resort, but Chad convinced me to join him in the Y, AND he offered to get there early to break trail for me!  How could anyone pass that up?

For a solid 2300 feet, I was able to follow a nice booter put in by Chad and a couple other dudes.  After that, Chad and I traded pulls, but it was slower going, especially towards the top where there was a nice bloody-shin crust on top of some bothersome sugar.

From Y Couloir

In 4WD mode -- Whippets and boots churning -- my hands got really cold, which is why I am making this face:

From Y Couloir

Anyway, here are the stats:

1:18:25 from car to top. Trail was broken for a good portion of the way, with some rough trail breaking at the end. I think it could be done in under an hour if there is a good booter in, like there is now. Go for it!

1:38 car to car*. *Paused the stopwatch at the top for a bit of socializing with Chad.

3508 feet climbed, same descended.

Gear: DyNA Boots, Low Techs, Trab World Cups, CAMP pack with avy gear, Montbell Thermawrap, and my own personal trail breaker.

Triangle Couloir and La Sportiva RT Bindings

training ground for the day

top belay station

me ducking some spindrift

I've started contributing to La Sportiva's Whiteroom, a blog dedicated to backcountry skiing and ski mountaineering.  I just posted a trip report from a recent outing in the Triangle Couloir.  You can check it out here.

That Was Then

I was rummaging in my basement and found these: Voile Snakeskins.

From Downloads

What are they? That's a good question. They were touted as climbing "skins," but they didn't work so well. I bought my first pair over 15 years ago because I didn't want to spend money on mohair. Mohair works much better than slick siped plastic.

I also found these:

From Downloads

What are they? Another good question. They are first generation heel risers to make skinning uphill a bit easier. Before climbing bars were integrated into bindings, we strapped sawed off PVC pipe on our leather boots to serve that purpose. The purple ones pictured above are the manufactured kind. They dangled around your ankles when you skied and skinned. And when you hit an incline, you strapped them under your foot. They worked about 25 percent of the time.

Evolution of backcountry ski gear in the last 15 years is impressive. In this time period, I have gone from three pins and leather to Chouinard cables to various telemark bindings (Rivas, Superloops, Hammerheads) to Dynafits and beyond :).

Fifteen years ago, the gear choice for hardcore ski mountaineers was severely limited -- practically non-existent. Descents of high mountain peaks with a free heel was tantamount to suicide. Although I'm sure there were some who attempted and succeeded on this kind of gear, most of the hardcore descents were probably being done on full alpine gear. For example, Johnstone and M. Newcomb's first descent of the Hossack MacGowan couloir on the Grand Teton was done on full alpine gear. That meant that they had to carry at least 20, and probably close to 30, pounds of skis and boots on their back! That doesn't include their other mountaineering gear. Any person capable of that deserves a lot of respect.

Today, backcountry gear has evolved to a point where it is essentially ski mountaineering gear, and very useful. Anyone can have a fully capable ski mountaineering setup that weighs 10 pounds, or even less. You can skin on this gear and climb on this gear, options some of the early ski mountaineering pioneers never had. This gear with the right pilot can handle the toughest of ski lines. With these huge advancements in gear, it stands to reason that today in 2011, much more is possible.

North Thunder via Bells out Coalpit

This morning, Brother Sam, Chad, and I toured from Wasatch Blvd., up Bells Canyon, through Thunder Bowl, and to the top of North Thunder Mountain.  Then we skied the Coalpit.  Great tour!

From 2011-01-30

From 2011-01-30

From 2011-01-30

From 2011-01-30

From 2011-01-30

From 2011-01-30

From 2011-01-30

From 2011-01-30

From 2011-01-30

From 2011-01-30

Teaching Hiro to Ski: Lesson 1

Hiro, my youngest son, turned 2 yrs old a couple months ago. For Christmas, he got a pair of ski boots, size 14.5 mondo. As far as I can tell, no one makes boots smaller than that. He can stick his little foot into the boot without unbuckling it. And he does that quite often. Lately, several times a day. Then he clomps around the house. At least he doesn't sleep in them -- something he did when he got them. I think the toes of everyone in the house have been stepped on by Hiro and his ski boots.

Given his enthusiasm for the boots, I assumed he would be equally enthusiastic to ski. Plus he talked a good game, telling Bart that he was going to go ski with him. But when the actual moment came and I latched him into his little skis he freaked out a little bit. And since Christmas, he hasn't been willing to entertain the thought of skiing. Just boots. The sight of skis causes him to wrinkle his face and cry a bit.

However, this week, we had a breakthrough moment and as of yesterday, Hiro has decided that boots and skis go well together. So, tonight we had our first ski lesson -- dryland training, on carpet. Here is a video (I am "daddy" and "Buster" is Hiro's nickname):



My other two kids, Ethan and Miya, both started skiing at 2ish or 3. I'm definitely not a pro at teaching kids, but here are the steps we have generally followed and that seem to work:

Step 1: The Tow I've found that towing the kids around initially and letting them get the feel of having their feet bound down and sliding on snow (or carpet) is a good way to start.

Step 2: The Pizza Slice Once they are comfortable and happy being towed, we take it to the next level: the "Pizza Slice," which with an edgy-wedgy is quite easy for a little person. All he or she has to do is step outwards.

Step 3: The Harness I have a harness made by Lucky Bums that has worked well. I've yet to try it on Hiro, but I will soon. With the harness on, I can control which direction they go, and stop them if necessary. At first, I use the harness a lot to control them, but soon enough, they pick up the snow plow.

Step 4: The Turn I struggle with teaching my kids to turn. They like to just go straight. But, one way that is effective is to simply reach one arm up into the sky. I ski in front and we play follow the leader with me raising my arm and the child doing the same thing, causing him or her to turn.

Step 5: Ditching the Edgy-Wedgys Depending on the kid, this may be hard, or it may be insignificant. With my daughter, I found that her 3 year old legs weren't strong enough to keep a snow plow without the assistance of edgy wedgies. Some instructors say that edgy wedgies are evil, but I think that for small children they work miracles. So, my thinking is, use them until the kid doesn't need them anymore.

I think Hiro is ready for the Harness. We'll see.

'Twas Not to Be

One of my objectives this year was to make the 2011 US Ski Mountaineering Team.  To qualify I needed to do well at a series of races, held Jan 8 (Nationals at Jackson), Jan 9 (Targhee), and January 14th (Sunlight, CO).  And I'm sorry to say that I didn't do well enough at Jackson, skipped Targhee, and couldn't get it done at Sunlight.  So, no US Team for me this year.

At Jackson, I was flu-ish, but was drawn there because I didn't want to miss the largest gathering of skimo racers in the sport's history.  It was exciting and inspiring to line  up with a multitude of skimo racers on US snow, and confirmed to me how much I like the sport.

(Photo Credit: Powder Mag)

Unfortunately, I couldn't match the high output of the race's leaders, and lost the lead group early on in the race.  I ended up finishing 15th or so, way out of consideration for the US Team.  

I skipped Targhee, hoping that I could take that time and use it to recover for Sunlight.  While I think it helped, by the time Sunlight came around, I hadn't gotten rid of  the chest congestion and pesky cough that has been plaguing me since Christmas.  I went anyway, hoping for a break.  During the Sunlight race, there were a few times when I was with the qualifying group or when the qualifying group was within striking distance, but I had a rough time breathing.  Then, at a critical moment during the 2nd descent, my right boot broke.  

From 1.16.11

With some prodding by Scheefer, I decided that I would plod along and finish the race as fast I could.  My skinsuit held the top of the boot to my leg, but it was floppy on both the up and the down.  And on the 3rd climb, I knew that my chances of making the team were gone.  As I postholed with one foot and skinned on the other (since I had lost a skin and didn't want to bother putting a new one on) into the last major descent, I had to laugh at the sorry shape I was in: lungs heaving, postholing with one leg, sliding on the other leg with a broken boot, and carrying a ski in one hand, and a iced up, crusty skin in the other hand.  That sorry picture should have been a signal to me, but I kept going.

The last leg of the race turned into a rally against Andy.  And in a moment of poor judgment, I tried to nip Andy at the finish line.  I failed, and instead crashed into a static, steel, ski rack.  Perhaps my broken boot had something to do with that.  The crash resulted in me getting strapped and taped to a backboard, taken to the hospital in an ambulance (while taped to a backboard, which is more uncomfortable than crashing into a steel ski rack), examined, x-rayed, and then released.  The final diagnosis was muscle strain, but no broken neck.  Phew!

From 1.16.11

Photo by Andy.

Of course, I'm disappointed that I missed making the team, but the fact is that I'm not performing at the level of those who made it on the team.  It's unfortunate that I trained hard and was on a good trajectory, but then lost a chunk of fitness due to illness, right when I needed it the most.  But, to mix metaphors: that's the way the slope fractures.

And now, time to focus on my kids, my yard, and some wild speed ascents and traverses.