Mid-December Update: Alaska

Storm has been the word of the month for better or for worse. But big wind has accompanied the snow setting up for a sensitive snowpack. The snow has been locked into a cycle of self-loathing:

1. Snow pack gets feelings hurt
2. Snow pack starts to get over the insult
3. Snow pack gets feelings hurt again

This pattern has made for a bi-polar snowpack. Unfortunately, the snow has been most sensitive on Saturdays and Sundays. Not good for this ex-Sugarhouser, weekend warrior. So the dilemma has been whether to ski or wait another week.

I have expanded my horizon to other outdoor activities. Such as Avi Education

Level 3 Prep Class at Turnagain Pass

Mens Paired Lift Serviced Ski Ballet with GB6K

And the infrequent nordic ski. On rare occasions, I have been known to succumb to the more popular activities that dominate Alaska this time of year: alcohol, sleep, and the arts. Well, 2 out of 3 ain't bad.

I checked the weekend forecast on Friday and it looked daunting again. It predicted (correctly) that we would have a third consecutive Sunday with 100+mph wind in the mountains. But it looked like there would be a nice weather window at Hatcher on Saturday morning.

There was 8-10" of fresh low density snow a the upper lot. We elected to head up Skyscraper Peak to ski El Dorado Bowl. P9 led the charge and picked a nice route into the lower bowl. A quick test pit revealed 103" base and the new low density snow was quite reactive (CT3).

Looking Back Towards the Chugach from the Talkeetnas

We eventually gained the ridge and topped out on the summit. Winds had picked loading the top of the bowl. Visibility was getting poor.

P9 Sussing an Entrance

The 4 of us skied a nice 900' shot back into the lower bowl under flat light. A squall had kicked up when we started up for run 2. We were nervous about retracing our skinner so we aimed to gain the ridge much lower by traversing a couple 100 feet below our original route.

This seemingly conservative decision was actually our biggest mistake of the day. In hindsight, we had effectively isolated the slope above us. The original skinner ski cut the top and the right hand side of the slope. The second skinner cut the bottom. The low density surface layer that we had previously ID's let loose swiftly and silently. P9 (75' ahead of me) got carried down slope and I put eyes on. Then the slide got me too. I struggled and swam and came to stop and then got hit by a second wave. Both waves were relatively minor (as far as slides go). P9 and I ended up on top of the snow. The loose snow avalanche had carried us about 100'. , Fe2O3 held his ground on the skinner. Our poles were gone and we were ready to get out of there.

There is a lesson to be learned from every incident (SAR, avalanche, drowning, car wreck). Those who dismiss the the participants as idiots will miss the opportunity to learn from their mistakes. Even if the participants were idiots, there is still a takeaway.

So you can shake your head, make the predictable Darwin comment, and shit talk me if you want, but I'd rather you draw from this experience.

• We correctly ID'd the potential threat (good)
• Our 2 skin tracks isolated the slope above us (bad)
• Managing a 10" slough while skiing downhill is one thing: you have momentum that can be used to move to a safe zone, traverse out, or point it.
• Standing still with a loose heal and skins leaves you powerless to react

We were aware of the terrain and consequences. If there were more snow, a hard slab, more complicated terrain, then our decision making process would have been different. Still, I didn't expect to be caught and was surprised by how helpless I was in uphill mode.

- Idiot

Cornbiscuit & Hatcher Pass: November 12 & 13

Clear skies and tales of stability and aggressive skiing dominated the week. As Friday approached, I grew restless. It was my turn to get after it. The pieces were all falling into place on Saturday morning: The Noodler was in, the avi forecast was encouraging, and there was snow aplenty. But it was not to be sender-fest; it was a weekend of tiptoeing through storms.

We headed south to Turnagain. The roads were snow covered and spirits were high as we parked at the Cornbiscuit trail head. It was a Class V skinner through the alders and forest, but who doesn't love a being slapped in the face for 60 minutes? We finally were through the worst of it and began to climb in earnest.

The Noodler on the Prowl

There was evidence of about 6 large glide avalanches. We opted to pull a move from my Utah bag of tricks: CTR (choose the ridge). As we climbed, the storm intensified: wind and plenty of snow available for transport. Today would not be the day for going after big objectives. New snow slabs were building and were extremely sensitive: whoomphs and cracking, but only on the new snow. We kept the angles low. The Noodler did pop out a small slab on a steep rollover whilst performing a ski cut. The low angle love was low density powder and definitely more fun than the sketchiness higher up.

Time to Back Off

There were big winds forecast for Sunday in the Turnagain area. The nice thing about Anchorage, is it's proximity to several different snow packs and weather patterns. Instead of South, we went North to Hatcher Pass. Unfortunately, it was more of the same. Wind with snow available for transport creating sensitive slabs. Sigh....

I didn't feel comfortable exposing the large group to questionable terrain. So we had an avalanche safety refresher day. Pits were dug and analyzed. Beacons were buried and located. Talk focused on looking for signs of instability, other quick tests that can be done on the skinner, picking pit locations, and so on.

Hatch Peak Getting Blasted

The instability this weekend seemed limited to recent wind loading. There weren't any problems in the meat of the snow pack. So hopefully the wind slabs heal quick. And in other good news, there is more snow at Hatcher right now then at any point last year.

Alpenglow and the Pinnacle

I didn't get the big line I was hoping for, but it was a super productive weekend and I will never complain about spending the day outdoors with fun people.

- Martha Macy Mae Marlene

Jewel Glacier (9/23) & Snowbird Glacier (9/25)

The Jewel Glacier was surprisingly good on Friday morning. 12-18" of fresh blanketed the upper glacier and summit zone (4,800') with continuous skiing down to 3,900'. There was a crust, but after shaking off the rust, that mean-old crust didn't seem that bad. The Jewel is split into 2 halves these days and I worked the high rollover on the skiers' left.

The Rollover

Milk Glacier from Mountain Jewel

The Snowbird does not have the coverage that the Jewel is enjoying, not by a long shot. The Snowbird is currently boasting trace to 1" of new. And that 1" is very angry. Actually above 5,500' there is some old snow below the angry inch, which made for a pleasurable turning experience.

On a positive note: the new Snowbird is complete and it is sweet. 10 folk shared the hut Saturday night and there was ample bunk space and a seat at the table for all. The heater runs on diesel so be sure to bring some fuel for a toasty night. Heather hiked in some fuel in an old gallon white gas jug.

The former "Nunatak" from the Hut

Bill Crawling towards the Deep

Matanuska Ice Fest & Hatcher Pass: June 11-12

Two hours up the Glenn Highway from Anchorage lies the terminus of the 27-mile Matanuska Glacier. The ice is only a short 15 minute walk from the car-park and 15 minutes beyond that lies a fantastic Dali-esque playground for the Summer ice climber.

A few eager beavers arrived on Friday night intent on "drinking it blue." Our efforts were rewarded and at the crack of noon, we marched into the blue ice under blue skies. Throughout the day, our numbers grew. Top ropes were quickly set on the shores of a glacial lake. These routes ranged from beginner to slightly over-vertical.

Ice Beach

Obstacle Course

(use the pre-set axes for hand holds without moving any)

More Advanced Routes Higher Up

Beautiful Walk Back to Camp

After a full day of climbing, the real fun began. Dean had managed to rally about 30 folks, 10 bottles of liquor, 2 kegs, and 1 miniature doberman to the campsite closest to the ice. Good food, good friends, good beer, good times. It doesn't get dark this time of year, and the sky began to get brighter by 3 and it was blue by 4. OK, one more....

Day 2 found the number of motivated climbers severely diminished, severely. I counted myself amongst the fallen and after a few hours lounging under a blazing sun, I too joined the exodus. The drive South featured a tense battle between sleep and alertness. This conflict was punctuated with brief moments of swerving and terror. However, alertness eventually won the day with the help of a popular Austrian-based energy drink.

High on sugar and "gawd-knows-what", I decided it would be a fantastic idea to make the short detour to Hatcher Pass for a quick ski. The weather at the Pass was cold and rainy, a sharp contrast from just a few hours ago. Despite ESPN radio's proclamations of "can't miss" and "epic battle", I ascended into the grey. Cue the lousy weather black and white photos:

April Bowl

Not Bad for 2 Broken Boots

It was by far the toughest rally of the year. Sure the conditions were awful, and there was a driving rain, and the cold wind stung my sun burnt face, and aggressive dehydration dominated my soul, and where was I going with this? Shoot, I can't remember.

- U.K.

3 Ranges, 3 Days: May 6-8, 2011

Kenai:

I busted out of my cube at 3:30 and headed straight for Turnagain. Typically the West side of the pass is snow-machine central, but the last day for motorized access was April 30th. Objectives on "Sunny Side" had become much more appealing since silence returned to dominate the soundscape.

Sunny Side Parking Area

Big Chief has haunted me for years and I thought today could finally be the day. I started up a SE aspect at 5:00 PM. There had been some wet slide activity earlier in the day, but the sun was off the route and a stiff wind would provide some evaporative cooling. My route crossed a couple of creeks and ascended a steep gully with consolidated slide debris.

Despite my bullet-proof theories regarding snow safety, slow moving wet slides were laboring down the gully on the regular. Spooky. I traversed out of the gully onto a dry ridge and continued up. The dry ridge eventually ended. A short 50' traverse would get me to another dry sub-ridge but it would be through waste deep slush across a 40° slope. The right decision was obvious but it held no appeal. Shit!

From the tundra, I leaned over and with one hand pushed the top foot of snow down the hill to see what would happen. It started slow, but it got a good head a steam on a roll-over. It was fanning out creating a larger and larger slice of pie. And then it stepped to the ground. Other large pieces pulled out joining the party. The river of snow was now a couple 100 yards wide and wiping out small trees. It ran the full length of the slide path and the sound of moving slush continued for about 10 minutes. I decided beer was now more important than glory. Conservative skiing and driving segued nicely into aggressive drinking.

Talkeetna:

Touring with a large fun group seemed like a better idea for Saturday. I theorized that high, north-facing aspects would provide the best snow, but having completely botched my snow prediction the day before, I kept my mouth shut. As fate would have it, the group decided to ski April Bowl: high and North facing.

The sun was in and out all morning and clouds began to thicken. From the summit, sucker holes gave us hope for a well lit descent. A cold wind was trying our patience and Dean dropped in under flat light. Kelley, then Heather, then Selene, and then the sun made an brief appearance. Bill and I lucked into some great visibility. The snow was fantastic: 6" of wintery, creamy sender! A second lap was a no brainer, and another sucker hole illuminated the descent. Tonight's aggressive drinking would be the inspired by great snow and great people.

The Team

April Bowl

Chugach:

Sunday dawned sunny, but the urge to hibernate in a deep dark cave surrounded by gatorade, soft music, and pizza was powerful. But, I knew Hiland would be great so I worked myself into a frenzy with a series of air punches and self-affirming thoughts. The South Fork Trail is about 50% melted out and didn't really lend itself to either hiking or skiing. After 1.5 miles, I angled West towards the "2nd Notch." From the summit just South of the notch, I "sent the shit" out of a mellow face towards Ship Creek. Excellent corn made for effortless skiing. Run 2 began from the same summit, but this time the NW face called. Again, smooth corn in the sun is tough to beat. I wanted a third, but dehydration was dominating my skull. The only wise option at this point was to locate the mythical electrolyte cave.

- James Dalton

Snowbird Glacier: October 30-31

The report said they had groomed the Nordic area at Hatcher Pass. I assumed that this meant there was enough snow to ski and made the drive up to the Talkeetna Mountains with plans to suss out the new Snowbird Hut.

There was only about 2" of snow at the turn-off for Archangel Road and I was surprised to see that the gate was still open. I started hiking from the Reed Lakes Trail Head. After about 1.5 miles you come to a dilapidated cabin. Here you turn left and begin the 2500' climb to the pass. There wasn't enough snow to skin but enough to make every step a surprise. There was 18" of snow at the pass; more than enough to ski this glacier.

The American Alpine Club built a brand new hut with donations and volunteer labor. I attended a kegger/fundraiser in the Fall and knew I had to see it for myself. The hut is perched on the lateral moraine on the skiers' right. The old hut is still in place and is usable for this winter. There are plans to remove it next summer.

The Huts

View from the New Hut

New Kitchen

New Bunks

There is plenty of gear stashed in the hut. No need for a sleeping pad or a stove. There are nice well-used sleeping bags and booties, but I was glad that I had my own. The cook stove runs on white gas and the heater runs on diesel/kerosene.

After getting situated in the Hut, it was time to kick off my 36th consecutive month/36th season. The glacier is really a wide ass "blue square" run, but starts getting steep as you approach the 6,000' ridge. I wanted to gain the ridge to see if it was possible to link up with the Lane Glacier for a potentially easier way back to the car. The route was marked with small crevasses so I opted to stay close to the rocks. I couldn't tell if I was on glacier, solid ground, or hanging out over the moat. Pole probing revealed that there was solid ground/ice under me and I turned my attention to snow stability.

There is 36" with 1/4" surface crust at all elevations/aspects with hoar frost developing. From a safe spot, I stomped the snow with a ski. Whooooph. Shooting cracks and sympathetic cracks 15-20' below me. Steeps are touchy. Copy.

From my aerie, I de-skinned at got the Hell out of there; back to the hut, back to the beer.

The next day I got in some nice low angle love. The crust was catching the wind and attacking my face. The skiing was decent, but the scenery was amazing. Thanks to all the volunteers and donors for providing such a comfortable place in this spectacular location.

-GOB

Mid-Atlantic Update

Just got back from sussing out Maryland. Looks epic. These must be the same mountains they road-tripped to in "The Deer Hunter."

- Nick Chevotarevich

Mid March Update

The snow has been great up here. The days are long and we've had quite a stretch of bluebird powder days. We're even starting to develop a slight sun crust on South facing slopes. Friday I had a short day of work and headed South to Turnagain along with the rest of Anchorage. I went up the standard Sunburst route and found a nice 1,400' line.

There were quite a few folks out, so I decided to go deeper. I put my back to the road and started skinning towards Taylor Pass and on to Superbowl Peak. My geography was a bit off and I found myself on Goldpan Peak. After a short trascent/down climb, the alpenglow was in full effect and Superbowl was laid out below my tips

Sussing the Big Chief in the Turnagain Area

Bass had skied 12,000' vert on Friday and Tom was working on his rig, so Saturday would be my 4th solo tour in 4 days. Vista Peak has been a shot that I had been saving for a day like this. Big approach and highly visible from the highway. I drove to Eagle River and headed up Eagle River Road and turned left onto Mile-Hi Drive. After about a half dozen switchbacks, I parked and threw on the skins. My cankle howled in protest. I gained Mile-Hi pass and dropped into the next drainage and on to a trail put in by some Nordic skiers. Maybe the approach won't be too bad. Wrong, turns out team Nordic wasn't very motivated. I finially gained the ridge got up high enough to scope out the line.

Vista Peak

I dug a pit and it was garbage: CT 0, 4, and 11. Probably shouldn't be soloing it anyway. I found some mellow NW aspects and lapped it up before heading North for the game night in Wasilla. Despite my rampart cheating, I got crushed at Uno. The beer helped me through the devistating losses.

The next morning, Tom and I headed to Government Peak in the Talkeetna Mountains. We parked at the Marmot Trailhead, crossed the street, bridged the creak, and sent the ridge. The sun was in and out all day. During a sucker-hole, we decided for a quick diversion in the sun.

The Diversion

The ridge got a bit more challenging but we summitted quickly.

We decided to ski down a different drainage from the ascent to maximize vertical. The top was variable but eventually gave way to miles of shin deep powder. Ain't too proud for the low angle love.

-Marcello

Archangel Valley, AK: July 2, 2009

Back in April, I lamented that the ash would ruin the summer skiing.  I felt my consecutive months streak would be in jeopardy.  I considered finishing my season after the Valdez trip, but Dylan convinced me otherwise.  Just keep it going was the gist of it.  So I did.  I found good snow through May and June.  I found bad snow through May and June.  I also found some half decent snow in July.  

I got up early and made the 90 minute drive to Archangel Valley in the Talkeetna Mountains.  The dirt road leading to the Reed Lake trailhead is notoriously bad.  So once I got off the pavement, I had to keep the Jeep at about 45 mph to fly over the deep potholes and through the ruts.  The suspension is shot but stiff.  It rides like a dream this morning.  I am completely out of control.  At every corner the vehicle "skips/bounces" towards the outside of the road.  It's OK because I have my lights on for safety.   

I arrive at the trailhead in record time.  Upper Reed Lake is about 5 miles up the trail and it is the bottom of the schuss run.  The trail is mellow as it follows a creek up the valley.  The trail is slick as rain soaked clay conspires against me.  The trail is fun as it disappears into a maze of car-sized boulders.  Whistle pigs greet my arrival into the upper valley.  Lower Reed Lake is a glacier blue/green.  I follow the creek up past waterfalls to Upper Reed.  There is still ice covering about 25% of the lake.  Here my adventure starts.  

Bluebird.  I hike up scree along side of the snow.  Sweat stings my eyes and coats the inside of my Smiths.  I can see the entire run.  Garmonts on and commence booting.  It goes quick and soon I am at the pass looking over several glaciers covered with ash and snow.  Upper Reed Lake is far below still showing the the final evidence of a harsh winter.

There are some clouds building but I am in no rush.  A Clifbar, some water.  Man, those clouds are building quick.  A front is pushing up the Bomber Glacier.  There is a very sharp line in the sky delineating blue from black.  And it is coming my way.  Now I'm rushing.  ("You can see Russia from here!")  I hurry down the slope.  Recent snow over the ash makes for fine skiing but the white gets less continuous.  The ash slows me down.  Then the thunder.  The thunder that starts behind you and circles all around you 2 or 3 times.  Echoing off the steep walls of the mountains surrounding you.  There isn't supposed to be weather like this in AK.  I guess no one told the storm.  Now even the ash laden snow gives way to rocks.  There are some ribbons that go lower.  I milk it low.  Real low.  The absurdity of the situation is not lost and I smile.  More swirling thunder.  Shit!  I transition into to hiking garb and work my way around the lake and back to the trail.  The thunder engulfs the valley and the winds pick up.  All of the metal in this entire valley now is residing on back and in my hands.  Hustle.

Thunder, rain.  A hard rail.  A hard hail.  Small hail, larger hail.  I can feel the hail hitting my hood.  Thunder.  Now lightening.  Hail.  Rain.  Wind.  Hustle.

  

"Nothing's gonna happen."  The Skier Boyz mantra calms me.  The storm is moving into the next valley.  "Nothing's gonna happen."  The black skies are now gray.  Thunder looms, but now in the distance.  A trace a blue.  Far off thunder.  "Nothing's gonna happen."  

Month #21 was an adventure, but they all are to some extent.  I am have my doubts about August, but I had my doubts about May, June, and July.  I suspect that I will take Dylan's advice and "just keep it going."  And after August, it all starts again with late September face shots.  

Pistolero