Timpanogos East Ridge

Bret Beattie was able to take me out of my comfort zone of Little and Big Cottonwood Canyon to a real big mountain just a few canyons away. Bret has been telling me all about Mt Timpanogos for a long time now. This was his fifth trip into the many cirques Timp offers and my first. Our objective was the East Ridge off the South end of Timp. This contiuous line is a bit intimidating because there are many cliff bands and it is a huge avalanche path especially if it warms up quickly.

Bret called me at 2:45 a.m. and said he was on his way over to my new residence The Falls, a high class community on State St. We drove down through Provo Canyon and up the access road to Sundance ski area. We pulled into the Aspen Grove parking lot at 3:45 a.m. and geared up. We needed to hike the first half mile in sneakers because the snow has been melting out. It was very reminiscent of Tuckermans Ravine trips, pre touring bindings. After a hour or so following the summer hiking trail we made it up to the snow line and began skinning with Roberts Horns walls to our left. The skinning did not last long because of frozen wet slides and potential slide for life conditions, we were booting and it was not fun.

After two hours of switching leads trail breaking we made it to the top of a headwall which Bret promised was the crux of the climb. Skins were back on and Bret was racing to get to the top of the glacier, a saddle between the North and South summits. The winds were blowing pretty strong here and we were wondering if the colds temps would allow the slopes to corn up. Once to the saddle it was straight forward firm booting up below the South summit and across the ridge to our descent.

We made it to our objective a little before 9 a.m. and immediately realized the sun had begun to melt the snow and we didn't waste any time on the top. The skins were off, boots clicked into ski mode, backpacks zipped up, cameras ready to document a perfect corn run. We carved into only 1 inch of corn for most of the run and towards the bottom just two inches. It almost didn't seem possible to have such good timing, but sometimes the boys get lucky. The skiing almost seemed easy and the xposure was low because the corn was so carvable. We skied through the first choke and stayed on the ridge proper most of the way down. We left the ridge proper and skied a second choke. Seeing the bottom of the run we linked big turns aiming right to traverse the large lower cliff bands. After this it was some gully skiing to the top of Stewarts Falls by 9:30 a.m. We put our sneakers back on and bushwacked down along the north side of the falls till we reached a nice hiking trail and out to the road at 11:30 a.m.

Hitch-hiking back to Aspen Grove was not as easy as we hoped. All the SUVs driving up were not willing to pick a boy up because of the inconvenience to their busy lives or risk of getting their leather interior dirty. We managed a ride from a community employee and a good view of the line we has just skied driving back to Safe Sandy, UT. I think I will get out of my comfort zone more often now. Stay tuned for more Timp descents. Thanks Bret.

Jake the Buf

Valdez 4 (April 18)

Lars, Dylan, Garret and myself headed to 30 mile for our final day in the Valdez/Thompson Pass area.  The plan was to bribe some snow-machiners to haul us up a couple thousand vert.  $20 got us to just below Peak 5500 between Girls and Skatepark.  There is a small steep NE facing cirque off of 5500.  The short booter from the drop off brings you to a ridge that has a half dozen obvious shots all in the upper 30s.  There is plenty of gnar between the shots for anyone looking for some billy goat, salt and pepper lines.  I wasn't interested but my companions were.

Valdez is a place that attracts skiers from all over the world.  In our short time there we met folks from the Alps, South America, New Zealand, US, and Canada.  Many of them have skied the world searching for the best terrain and snow.  Their search ended in Valdez.  And on a bluebird day, I wasn't arguing.  The cirque is commonly referred to as "Bro Bowl."  The runout intersects a snow-machiner highway.  These are definitely stadium shots with sled necks gathering to gawk whenever they smelled blood.  The lines Dylan, Lars, and Garret were putting up attracted the whole herd.   They sent technical lines with big air, big exposure, and big consequences.  The herd moved on disappointed and hungry.

However, there were some straglers that were truly impressed with what they witnessed and were happy to ferry us back to the booter.  We rode doubles or were towed (up to 3 of us at once).  "Do you know how to ride Canadian?"  "Sure," I said not wanting jeopardize a ride.  This style puts one rider on the left and one on the right.  Each gets a knee on the seat and a hand on the bars and you hold on.  Tight.  Real tight.  Vibram was my friend that day.

We got 4 runs (1 we had to skin).   Each run featured epic snow but the run out had developed a slight funky layer that became more pronounced as the day wore on.  You only noticed this layer if you turned.  I noticed it; Dylan, Lars, and Garret not so much.

After the final run we booted up to the Skatepark (aka Little Girls) for a more direct line to the road.  This skiing sucked from the 1st turn and deteriorated as we descended.  45 minutes later and we were at the road.   We headed back to Anchorage the next morning and decided to hit Hatcher Pass on the way through Palmer.  Hopes were high and there were a few shots off Marmot I wanted.  I knew the snow would be safe if the ash remained buried.  It wasn't and for about the 10th time in a month, I was Redoubt's Bitch.

After reflecting for a few weeks about this trip, I have developed new appreciation for Thompson Pass.  This place is so big it can accommodate heli operations, snow machiners, and ski tourers.  And given enough time, you can approach all of the classic Valdez ski movie lines with just skins.  Better yet, snow machine and skins. The snow is excellent and there is plenty for everyone.   Check out, "Alaska Backcountry Skiing: Valdez and Thompson Pass," by Matt Kinney.  This book will get you to all the big lines that are serviced by the heli outfits.  This guide neglects "The Books" but this area can be approach from 18 mile at the Valdez Heli Camps staging area.  There is a snowmachine trail that is well maintained that eliminates the bushwhack.

Lars and the Real Boy

Top of the booter up Peak 5500

Snow machiners getting fired up after Lars sends the line of the day

Dylan tries to line Lars up in Bro Bowl

Seward, AK May 4th

At 8:30 AM the call came in.  "Do you want to go to Seward for the day?"  Yes.  "Can you be ready in an hour?"  Yes.   Annie K was heading there for work and needed a driver for a vehicle that was coming up on a barge from Seattle.  My skin was still recovering from the beating it just took in Whittier and the sun was blazing again.  Screw it, that's why they make SPF 60.

I've attempted a line in Marathon Bowl twice and failed both times.  I had hoped the third time would be a charm.  It wasn't.  8 days of blue-bird had turned the snow to mank.  I got up about 2,000' above town and starting setting off wet slides.  It was only going to get steeper and scarier.  I was solo so back to the trailhead. 

The snow will eventually consolidate in Marathon Bowl and when it does, the 4th time will be the charm.  Check this area out if you find yourself in Seward before mid-July.  

Getting there:

The trailhead is called the "Jeep Road" and is a the "tee" junction of 1st and Monroe in the residential part of Seward against the mountains.  The trail splits often.  At the 1st junction, go left, after that it is all rights.  Look for "waterfall" signs.  After crossing a long bench, the trail winds up through a gully and into Marathon Bowl.  It is a buffet.  Gorge yourself.

Sorry for the lack of photos. 

Whittier, AK May 2nd and 3rd

The ash from Redoubt has been bringing me down.  The snow is melting fast in areas most severely affected: Hatcher, Eagle River, Anchorage.  However; there was a rumor that one area was spared: Whittier.  This small fishing/tourist town on Prince William Sound about 60 miles from Anchorage became more isolated when a  huge rock slide closed the only road into town.   Fortunately the rail line was unaffected and the state began offering 3 trips a day from Portage to Whittier at no cost.  All you need to do is call the Alaska Railroad and make reservations.

Early May in Whittier typically brings hoards of snow-machiners, but the road closure is keeping them out this year.  So early Saturday morning I made the 45 minute drive to Portage to catch the free train and see what Whittier had to offer.  The train ride was odd.  There were fisherman, Anchorage folks day tripping, local residents, and lots of dogs.  I had never been to Whittier and had no idea what to expect.  No maps, no beta, no clue.  I noticed some other skiers on the train and they offered some insight: "Go to the tallest building in town and skin up. " That works.  

On the ride we saw moose, eagles, and lines galore.  The 1st tunnel is short: about a mile.  The 2nd is 2.5 miles and when you pop out you in another world.  Towering ash free peaks.  A small harbor.  Several feet of snow a sea level.  The tallest building in town was about 1/4 mile away.  I skinned up about 500' vert to 500' above sea level and set up a camp on a bench overlooking the town and the harbor.  Mountains buried with ash free snow under bluebird windless skies complemented the peace and quiet nicely.  

I climbed through 2 bowls and crossed a part of Whittier glacier.  I could see a summit.  Lower Eastern False Ridge Bump Peak.  Despite its unimpressive name, the views were breathtaking. 

The peak sits at about 3,000' dividing Whittier Bay from Blackstone Bay.  Having no clue where I was going I was shocked to see another bay on the other side of this peak.  Blackstone Bay has nearly a dozen glaciers the descend to near sea level.  Two of them, the Blackstone and the Beloit, reach the ocean.  Whittier has stormy windy winters that tend to compact the snow better than anywhere else in the Anchorage area.  The snow was epic: supportable and consolidated.  This area gives you unlimited options from  steep couloirs to rolling bowls to monster ice fields.  Since I was solo, I decided to "easy style it."  Huge turns though 3" deep corn into the rolling 35 degree bowls brought me back to camp.  Normally skiing such deep corn is bad etiquette because the turns freeze up solid overnight leaving death trenches for folks the following morning.  Since I didn't see one other track the entire day, my trench farming was guilt free.  I was dehydrated and hungry.  The sun was starting to take its toll on the snow so I called it a day and started to melt snow and make dinner.

The next morning dawned warm and clear.  It hadn't dropped below freezing but the evaporative cooling produced a nice 1" of fresh corn.   I retraced my steps to the same peak just to see that view one more time.  The corn was perfect.  1" on supportable.  Back to camp, back to the train, and back to Anchorage.

The snow should hold up for another 3 weeks plus.  The road will be closed for at least 2 more months, so the skiing will remain 2-stroke free.  It is by far and away the best skiing within 100 miles of Anchorage this spring.  After sussing the terrain and snow depth, I must apologize for not bringing any the Utah Team members to this area.  Whittier is now one of my top destinations for winter and spring skiing.  

The Port of Whittier

The free ride

Day 2: Two tracks (both mine)

Advanced Base Camp

The glassy waters of Blackstone Bay

Looking out into Prince William Sound

Tidewater Glaciers: Beloit and Blackstone

Sussing from the train: Portage

Travels To Thompson Pass 2009

Free-Riding Valdez Part III

Team douche had just "broken" their guide and they were quite pleased with themselves.  It appeared these high rollers were going to trump us on the 3 PM bird that we were penciled in on.  VHG has a shortage of guides; injuries has plagued their season.  There would be a copter for us, but no guide.  Damn.  The Douche Brigade flew off into the distance, but hope springs eternal.  The Powderwhores were calling it a day and their guide was up for some more schussing.  

We filled out the necessary paperwork, put on our rental gaper harnesses, and weighed in.  The pilot needs to know everyone's "geared up" weight including pack and skis.  I had never been on a fully guided trip before.  It was a luxury that I highly recommend.  Our guide, Dylan, is a young gun from Utah that enjoys skiing the same type of terrain we enjoy.  He has some medical certs, an avi II, and some experience with Exum Utah.  Right place at the right time was his explanation. 

The bird came in, the guide loaded our skis and packs, we climbed in, and then up.  Most of you know that I've spent considerable time working with helicopters during my lift installation days.  Exhibit A.  Working with these machines seems bad-ass (it is), but is also dirty, dusty, exhausting, scary, loud, and stressful.  Hurry!  Go!  Faster!  I had never been inside one and today was the day for the relaxing heli experience I had always wanted.  

Up.  The lower elevation terrain was isothermic snow, willows, willows, willows, and willows.  This shit is real!  I'm on a A-star Eurocopter B2.  I'm gonna sail this boat to the moon somehow!  Everybody look at me.  The mountains are big and steep.  From the heli they are all around you, to the left, right, front, back, and even above you.  Looking out the "sun roof"  you have to crane your neck to see the sky.  "Do you guys want a warm up run?"  "No."  "Are you sure?"  "Yes." "What do you want to ski?"  "We want to ski whatever you would want to ski."  "Well, I'd be negligent as a guide if I didn't see you skied first."  I was thinking the Dylan and Lars should pull out the Sickbird buckles.  5 minutes and 3500 vert later we were at the Carrot Ramp and landing on a small col at the top of a 45 degree, 1000', 30' wide chute.  Perfect... for me.  The guide ski cut and skied it.  I skied it: creamy, consistent super-hero snow.  From the bottom I got a good view of the venue.  There are about 4 shots similar to what I had just skied separated by cliffs, spines, pillows, straight-runs, and rock.  Perfect... for them.  Enter the billy goats.  Dylan, Lars, and Garret are all skiing A+ style and this is the terrain they wanted.  They sent it.  Double drops.  Big airs.  Big sloughs, real big.  Fun transitions.  We huddled at the bottom of the cirque.  We had a 2000' vertical ski ahead of us.  20 degree creamy pow.  Not so much adrenaline but fun.  The copter came in.  Windy as hell, but expected.  I briefly flashed back to the CTEC days.  Here comes that wind, get ready to move.  Go!  Hurry!  Fortunately I realized we were on a fully guided trip.  I watched the guide load my skis and gear, and than I leisurely boarded the bird fully relaxed.  This is the way to go.

"Where to now?"  "Same place."  "Alright."  I followed Garrett's line from his first run.  The top half of it anyway.  A the midway point I stayed fall line where Garrett's tracks angled toward a 40 footer.  Nice fast Super G turns.  Those guys had unfinished business.  Dylan came first.  Nice send.  He finished his run was some high speed squiggles before stopping.  That's always a sign that he is happy with the run.  Dylan grabbed the guides radio and guided Lars and Garret in.  Big lines.  Greased.  Everyone was pumped.  The snow was welded to the slope.  There was no need to rush.  There were no judges watching fluidity.  Everyone was able to ski their line and if they got turned around, they stopped and we'd point out their line via radio.  The guide was happy.  Being a heli guide sounds epic (it is), but there are downsides.  Shitty skiers, bruised egos, kissing ass.  There were none of those issues today.  

"Where to now?"  "Higher."  "We want the big vert."  The clouds were starting to come in.  The big objective was obscured.   They flew us around.  Sussing.  We came through a notch hot in a bank turn.  50 degree flutes on one side, 50 degree flutes on the other.  Sick.  The weather forced us back to the Carrot Ramp but the pilot was able to nose in further down the ridge.  More of the same: a 45 degree chute for me, gnar for them.  The guide let me go first.  I leaned into the slope and made a big airplane turn off a small wind lip into a fresh Valdez couloir.   A good run.  The others sent theirs.  Big agressive lines were skied like the Boyz.  Lars came down with a huge grin on his face, literally giggling. That's a good indicator.  We met the copter at the LZ (landing zone, duh).  The pilot gave us a show.  Zero G banks.  Up down.  Buzz the round.  Through the cut, over the power lines, back down to the road, zero G, and land.  

Heli skiing will make you thirsty.  Gentleman Jack mosied into the parking lot and down my throat.  So did the Alaskan Summer Ale.  Dylan shot the shart with the Powderwhores, we squared up with the guide and the outfit.  I was anxious to get to Matt's place at 46 mile so I could put the Jeep in park and get my drink on for real.  Soon enough we were setting up sleeping gear in his yoga studio.  The wood stove was stubborn, but Dylan brought it to life.  We slugged beers and relived the day.  Our thoughts turned to food.  Garrett had brought some Dall Sheep and Moose steaks.  Matt had some local potatoes and root veggies from his garden/green house.  The Alaskan Amber completed a truly Alaskan meal.  We walked the 15 minutes to the bar, but kids were kicked.  It was time for sleep.

Ciochetti's Ribbon

So what have we learned? Well when an old Wasatch legend like John Barstow says " The thing about Ciochetti was he wasn't the best skier; he just had huge balls and loved exposure." With that being said, what can you expect from Ciochetti's Ribbon? Well, there's a traverse, a 50 degree slope, snow drifts, sugar on shitty limestone , and rock pillar cruxes above an 800' cliff. Tackling this objective on a Monday morning is more than enough to make somebody drastically late for work. This is a line that you only trascend once unlike Hoopa's Backside Snow Abortion, which has trains of people going out it daily. On Ciochetti's you don't feel good until your finished even though you might be four hours late for work. Your glad to have survived. Some beta if I were going to do it again which I'm not. Give yourself plenty of time; its slow going. Bring a 60 meter rope not a 30 meter 8 mill rando line, lots of rock gear nuts, cams, long draws. And wear a helmet, we found plenty of loose rock. As Stefan led the crux, he pulled out bowling ball sized limestone chunks, hucked them over the edge, and said, "It smells like Diamond Fork hot springs." We alternated leads for the whole traverse. Following was just as dangerous as leading and we placed protection where we could find it. Sometimes we moved together with pro in between us, inching along at snail's pace. Despite the cautious pace, we had to take our skies off for the crux rock pillar to climb around it. Didn't have to aid any sections but I would've in a heart beat. For better beta you might want to talk to follow skier boy Tim Rogers who did it a week before us. --- Bret

Ciochetti's Ribbon is technically in bounds at Alta Ski Resort and technically open anytime Devil's Castle is open. It is the traverse that bisects the impressive face of the Castle. Approach from the saddle between Sugarloaf and the Castle proper. Start poking around and you will see the entrance. The line finishes in a steep shot into the Apron. If you decide to ski this while Alta is open, give the patrol a heads up and plan on a full day.

Free Riding Valdez Part II

What exactly do we consider free-riding?  Our definition definitely strays from Warren Miller's interpretation.  We consider free-riding to be skiing for free or as cheaply as possible.  This involves putting your faith in humanity and hoping your fellow man will hook it up.  Is this taking advantage of the good nature of good folk?  This is debatable.  But what goes around comes around, so when we have the opportunity to help someone else free-ride, we hook it up.

Everywhere there is good skiing there are free-riders.  Look for them and it is apparent.  They have real nice gear but it is well used and there is usually some tape on the outerwear.  The vehicle is overflowing with gear.  Much of it, you don't think is necessary for skiing: chain saws, stoves, tool boxes, down (lots of down), and a lot you can't ID.  There will be sleeping bags, pads, and tents.  Usually there is a trailer hitch and about 1.5 sets of skis per person.  There will be more booze than you think necessary, but this is the currency of the free-rider.  

When we left off last time, we were at ABA drinking it blue.  Baja Fogs, MGDs, Alaskans, other potables.  Cheese and crackers, meat sticks, other intoxicants kept flowing from the RV.  Thanks to team Altabird.  We wanted to chill, but it was time to work on lodging.  Matt was the name of the cook at Rendezvous.  Let's go find him.  We cruised the to the lodge at 45 mile.  We hit the bar in search of our contact and quickly found him.  He seemed nice enough but confused by our presence.  Garrett said this was the hook-up but Garret still hadn't showed up.  We decided to buy a round and get to know our new friend, but he was nowhere to be found.  No big deal, pump some quarters into the pool table and throw back some Black Butte Porters.  I can think of worse ways to pass time.  And time passed and no Matt.  Awkward.  

Dylan and Lars had napped heavily during the drive.  They were going strong but I was fading.  I went for a quick cat nap in the Jeep in front of the lodge and hoped they'd sort things out.  I slept lightly and was interrupted by dogs, fireworks, and the occasional beer run by Dylan.  Warm, cosy, and cramping.  Shit.  

Dylan and Lars came back around midnight.  No Matt, no Garret.  This free-riding business was starting to get stressful.  The had sussed out a dirt road  at 46 mile and had poached some plywood.  I had been suspect of the "plan" from the get go, so I had thrown in a 4-season tent, stove, and white gas back in Anchorage.  This cheap insurance was paying off.  Lars drove the short distance to the "campground" and parked the Jeep.  Lars and Dylan busied themselves by building a flat area in the snow with their Voile shovels.  Plywood on the flat spot, tent on the plywood, crawl, sleep.  Not ideal, but workable.  Sleep beckoned.  By so did approaching headlights, then approaching footsteps, then a flashlight, then nothing, then sleep.

10 AM came quickly again.  "Are there any Mad River boys in there?"  Garrett.  Finally some luck.  Garret had come in last night around 1 AM and had walked past the tent as we drifted off.  He had met with Matt and sorted things out.  Funny story.  Garret was a buddy of Matt and Garrett knew Matt cooked at the Rendezvous Lodge.  Garrett called the lodge and asked to talk to Matt.  Matt said, "No problem."  The problem was that this was a different Matt.  The Matt Garrett knew had quit the lodge the previous fall but still lived close by.  The Matt at the lodge was probably too fucked up to realize he didn't know Garret.  At any rate way, Garrett showed us to his buddy Matt's house which was only about 150' from where we camped.  

Accommodations were secure.  Relief.  Matt owns a few acres right along the Alaskan Pipeline right-of way.  46 miles out of Valdez there is no zoning, no property taxes, no worries.  Matt has quite a spread: green houses, root cellar, big log home, yoga studio. All of it is about half finished.  He has big plans and is a talented gardener and carpenter.  When he is done the place will be epic.  Cloudveil took notice of one of his creations in their winter catalogue.  There are no stairs from the kitchen to the 2nd floor bedroom, just a climbing wall set into two walls that make up a corner.  The "easy" route was well worn and the big jugs of the preferred route were significantly darker than the smaller pieces.

Breakfast was good.  Peanut butter toast or jelly toast.  Bars.  Avocado. Citrus.  Whatever was left from the Scandinavian adventure.  The sky was partly cloudy with patches of blue, but the highest peaks were still obscured.   We loaded up and went to see what the deal was at Rendezvous.  They wanted $250 for two runs on whatever we could see from their porch.  We talked it over and decided to go ahead with their "check-out" though we did not fully commit.  We went to talk to the GM, but he had left for a 20 minute lunch.  So we left too to assess the scene at Valdez Heli Guides at 35 mile.  As we drove, the skies got clearer and there would be no returning to Rendezvous.  At 35 mile it was perfect weather: bluebird, warm, windless, perfect. We had gotten "checked out" the previous day with VHG so now it was time to find out what they could offer us. 

We were in luck.  There was a group of 4 that was leaving at 3 PM so they had space.  Negotiations ensued and we arrived at $300 for 3 runs.  It goes against the free-riding mantra, but it is a good deal.  So we sucked it up and agreed.  In the interim we did beacon drills, talked to other clients, and made PB&Js.  I was chilling in the office when an urgent message came in from one of the guides.  "Get the Advil ready.  We are coming in for an early lunch."  10 minutes later the bird landed and out came a guide in obvious pain.  "It went from the best run of my life to the worst." "Everyone out!"  VHG has a portable garage type structure with DVD, heat, gear hooks, water, benches, etc.  We went in there.  The injured guide's clients came in.  Rich douche-bags from NY claiming to be from Park City.  The proceeded to use every phrase they had ever heard a bro-bra use in a ski movie.  "Chugach'd" "Slough" "Whipped by the dragon's tail" Their mood was joyous.  The seemed happy.  Douche #1: "Have you ever broken a guide before" Douche #2: "No this is the 1st guide I broke."  Classy.  I needed out and the sun was needed after cloudy winter.  The guide's screams could be heard from the bench I was chillaxing at.  No one knew how this latest development would affect our day.  I offered to drive the injured guide to the Valdez hospital, but his injuries were serious and my offer was graciously declined.

The guide loaded into the bird and was whisked away to the hospital.  After he got evaluated in Valdez, they flew him to Anchorage for emergency surgery.  He had broken his neck and needed to have 2 vertebrae fused.  There were potential shoulder and knee injuries but those evaluations would wait until the big injury was stabilized.

The office manager said it was unlikely that we would fly today, but said to hang around.  "Hurry Up and Wait" should replace "North to the Future" as Alaska's state motto.  I took in the sun and thought about that guide. 

Free-Riding Valdez Part I

Due to the recent economic slump, I needed a refresher course in free-riding.  Enter Lars and Dylan.  They had just crushed it in the World Extreme Bro-Gnar-Huck-Booze-Straight Line fest and were stuck in Girdwood.  The call came in.  "I think we got a ride, where do you live again?" They showed up about an hour later.  They had convinced a bell hop at the Alyeska Prince Hotel (where they stayed free for a week) to give them a 40 mile lift from Girdwood to my place in Anchorage.  I put out some snacks, cracked a few beers, and threw in a frozen 'za.   I knew that they had about a week before their flights back to reality.  I had some unscheduled time off.  Valdez.

Katura threatened to get a cat if I went.  8 years of shredded furniture and fur covered clothes for a 5 day road trip.  

Lars, Dylan, and I left the townhouse on Wednesday heading towards Valdez area with ski gear, some winter camping equipment, very little money, left over food commandeered from the Scandinavian trip, and the name of a cook (who we didn't know) who works at the Rendezvous Lodge and Heli Guides.  

We had a day to kill before the Valdez lodging hook-up would be in place so we skied locally.  The three of us drove 13 miles North out of Anchorage to Eagle River on the Glenn Highway and exited at Hiland Road which boasts the Anchorage dump, a camp ground, and a women's prison.  Hiland is a winding road that ascends a picturesque  valley whose quiet is only interrupted by the incessant barking of dogs.  There is good skiing on both sides of the road but the avalanche danger is typically higher here than Turnagain.  Harp Mt. (5,008') stands 3000' above the end of the road.  The milky white peak against the milky white sky held the promise of excellent skiing and riding.   Two hours of skinning/booting put us on the top.  Milky white clouds had lowered further obscuring what can be a jaw dropping view.  The wind had loaded the West face with 3-4" of cream on top of supportable crust.  The skiing was surprisingly good.  After splitting one PBR three ways we headed North to crash with Chandra and Tom in their dry cabin in Sutton.  They requested fish; a fair trade for a night of lodging, a bomb dinner, great company, and 60 miles closer to Valdez.   

10:00 AM came quickly.  Tom provided some pancakes with real syrup (no Berkshire Gold, but good nonetheless) and in true AK style we were off just after 11.  The drive up the Glenn was spectacular: sun highlighting blue glacial ice and spines, couloirs, and faces of countless towering peaks for 100 miles of driving.  Dylan and Lars slept through and awoke in Glenallen,  which has a front row seat of 12,000' Mount Drum. 

The plan was to meet Garret (Dylan and Lars' buddy from the tour) at the Rendezvous Lodge at 46 mile.  Garret knew Matt, the cook, and assured us that lodging was covered.  Lars touched based with Garrett and found out he was running late.  Oh well.  We threw back some PB&J's and pushed on under blue skies.  As we climbed back into the Chugach, the skies got grayer and the clouds got lower.  We were making good time so we decided to check out the scene before tracking down the cook.

All of the heli-ops require the standard legal waivers.  They also make you do a beacon search (1 beacon, 2 minutes), a 20 minute hands on heli primer, and another 20 minutes of snow safety.   Each company requires you complete their "check out" and is free even if you don't fly with that outfit.  They are actually pretty useful and it is fun to climb into a copter even if it isn't spinning.  The mandatory beacon search was helpful for those of us who don't practice as often as we should.  All clients are required to wear a harness when heli-skiing;  this is provided but come on folks, we're professionals here.  

There are multiple heli-ski operations strung out over a 45 mile stretch of highway.  The first is a mile post 45 at the Rendezvous Lodge.  This operation (1 bird) accesses some big vertical lines.  Their stadium shot is called Happiness, a 45 degree, 4500' vertical face.  They wanted $250 for 2 runs.  Valdez Heli Guides (3 birds) is at mile 35: 3 runs; $300.  The runs here are shorter, but they can get you into the terrain that will leave you gripped.   At mile 30 is ABA (1 bird).  This is ground zero for the scene.  There's a huge snow-machine trail head filled with RVs, sleds, hot dog carts, booze, fires, roaming packs of dogs, and the best gossip around.  Thompson Pass is at mile 25 and has insane views of those Alaska spine lines we've all be drooling over for years.  Unfortunately the approach eliminates a ground assault.  The road does a long switchback here allowing for 1,000 vert of skiing.  Dylan and Lars skied it twice and claimed it was good.  I had my doubts.  I picked them up around mile 20.  This is as close as we made it to Valdez.  H2O is located in Valdez proper (mile 0), but they (along with a few other outfits) had already packed it in for the season.  

After the epic road laps we went to 35 Mile to check out the scene.  As soon as we rolled in, the bird landed and out walked 4 familiar  Altoids.  We caught up over beers over at their RV.   After a day of grey-bird, folks try to "drink it blue."  So we tried to drink it blue.

To be continued

KS

Another teaser:

Valdez + Powder + Bluebird + Heli = Good

Photos tomorrow 

AK Update III

Off to Valdez with Dylan and Lars for the next 4 days.

KS

The Scandinavian Hut

The Skier Boyz expedition was severely impacted by Mount Redoubt. Kaboom! "You want the Neacolas?," it bellowed. "Come and get them!" Kaboom! We felt great fear and a warming sensation in our trousers. We scrambled like cockroaches when the lights come on. By the time the dust (ash) settled we found ourselves at the Scandinavian Hut.

The hut is located above the Matanuska Glacier and along side the Scandinavian Glacier. This hut is owned by the Mountaineering Club of Alaska. The MCA owns 8 huts in Alaska. In addition to the Scandinavian, there are 4 in the Talkeetna Mountains and 3 on the Eklutna Trascent. MCA membership runs $15 a year and includes unlimited use of all the huts. Don't tell the Rainbows; we don't want these to turn into a high alpine hippie filth-fest. Members also get a newsletter and access to a wealth of info and a monthly meeting with juice.

Getting to the Scandinavian Hut:

The hut is off the grid. We flew with Mike Meekin's Air Service out of Sheep Mountain. You can also fly with another pilot out of Chickaloon. Both pilots flew us in one by one in Super Cubs. The flight is about 25 minutes long and jaw dropping. They land on the Scandinavian Glacier and from there it is about 1/4 mile to the hut: up a moraine, diagonally down a moraine, diagonally up a moraine, kick, push, coast. Meekin left a sled (orange with blue handles like you had as a tot) tricked out with webbing to secure the load and to act as a tail for someone to wrangle the sled from behind. Those sidehills can eat a bag of hot diapers.

Amenities:

Upstairs: The upstairs is strictly for sleeping. It fits 6 friendly friends. There are plenty of foam pads that live in the hut, but bring a thermarest. There is a Diversity Rainbow (Gay) Flag that Bret slept under every night. It was between 25-50°F and in the sleeping area with 4 people. (overnight lows outside were between -10 and 20°F)

Downstairs: There is a kitchen area outfitted with plenty of pots, pans, silverware, coffee mugs, and dish soap. I used my own stuff, but no one got sick using the kitchen wares of questionable origin. There is an old school two burner Coleman stove that runs on white gas, but the tank failed to hold pressure. It's junk so I hucked it into a crevasse. The token Vermonter climbed in and got it. Something about them Vermonsters and trying to recycle shit. The hunk of shit stove is back in the hut and is still unreliable. There is plenty of white gas that lives in the hut. There were 6 gallons when we arrived. Open the upstairs window when you cook. We went through about 2 gallons in 9 days (6 dirt bags). There is also an eating area with 3 benches (seats 6) and a cafeteria style table.

Other: There is a crank radio/siren that comes in real useful for listening to Rush Limbaugh and summoning the "Glacier Police." It also has 2 flashing red LEDs. There is a tool box and duct tape. The inside of the hut has nails strategically placed for hanging and drying gear. There is a Trivial Pursuit, Freedom of the Hills (Volume 4), and climbing magazines from the 70's.

Deck: There is a small deck with a rail that can fit 3 asses. The deck catches the late afternoon sun (late March/early April). There are also some nails above the deck on the hut to hang gloves, liners, etc. A shovel lives on one of these nails. Leave the shovel outside when you fly out so the next party can dig out the door if necessary.

Rest Room: Three sided, tin roof, facing the Matanuska Glacier. Perfect for whipping ice chunks at while someone is squatting uncomfortably in this Slumdog Shanty. There are some "WAG" bags in the hut, but bring your own. Or triple line a 5 gallon bucket and fill 'er up. You are expected to take your droppings back to civilization. We brought a 5 gallon "Fresh Step" kitty litter bucket. Upon returning to society (were you lonely without me?), I took the bucket of shit to the grocery store, found the kitty litter aisle, placed it with the other 5 gallon buckets of "Fresh Step", and walked away. The shanty is for pooping only. There is a urinal (coed) up on Urine Ridge. Actually, there is no urinal, its just a moraine. To get there, walk out the hut, take an immediate left, hike about 30 feet to the top of the moraine, write your name.

Water: We melted snow using the largest pot provided. Snow was gathered from the side of the hut opposite Urine Ridge.

Missing: The Alaska Climbing Guide says there is an unofficial climbing guide that lives in the hut describing the surrounding peaks. It is MIA. If anyone has it or has a copy of it, pdf that shit and email me a copy. (or contact MCAK.org). It is a valuable resource that some pickle sniffer heisted.

Summary: Bring your own stove the runs on white gas, be prepared to take your poop out, bring an appropriate sleeping bag, the guide book has been stolen, pee on the left, get snow on the right.

- U.K.