Category Archives: Skiing

Lesson’s Learned

Another winter has come and gone, and before too much of it fades from memory, I thought I’d share some of the tips I picked up along the way. None of it is especially profound, but who knows, maybe some of it will be useful to some one out there.

Black Diamond Ski Strap
Usage 1: Climbing Skin Melt-down

I have determined that it is not possible to overstate the usefulness of the Black Diamond Ski Strap to the back-country skier, especially the longer lengths. Before I elaborate, let me stress the importance of carrying two of them and of getting the long ones. They hardly weigh anything, so no quibbling about ounces! In this case the added value is worth the 2 extra calories you’ll burn schlepping them up to the top of some mountain. I’ll present my most compelling argument first…

Evidently, all three screws ripped out of the material simultaneously…

This past March, on mile 1.5 of our 5 day hut tour in the Wallowas, during the execution of a lazy AVA turn, I somehow managed to kick the tip loop of my brand new (as in not used once ever) Black Diamond Ascension Split Skin clean out of the skin, resulting in no less than 2 cougar screams (in the words of Colin Fletcher) and a short profusion of swearing. Observe:

I briefly considered duct tape, and then briefly considered backing the screws out of the tip loop, cutting the damaged end of the skin off and re-trimming the entire length of it in the field with a pocket knife and trying to reattach the tip loop to the fresh end of the skin. Fortunately, before I tried any of these Mickey Mouse schemes I thought of just wrapping a ski strap around the loose end of the ski. I’m sure I’m not the first person to have thought of this, but if you have any doubts about the feasibility of this technique, consider that this was the technique that got me through the entire rest of the season! The ski strap did suffer a few nicks around right around the edge of the skis, but has not failed. Even so, the possibility of that failure has led me to believe that carrying an extra strap just in case is a worthwhile insurance policy while on any extended tours.

Ski strap with buckle on top. On a decently rockered ski, the strap won’t really contact the snow.

Tuck the loose end under the top so that it doesn’t drag and get run over by the other ski.

Usage 2: Emergency Booster Strap

Now here’s one that I haven’t actually heard of from anyone else. I can’t personally vouch for it’s effectiveness, though during our Wallowa Alpine Hut trip, Karl claimed that it was somewhat helpful. He was using borrowed AT boots and found them to be too soft to effectively steer a big pair of skis through heavy snow. The setup was starting to ruin his day, and this was the best I could think of at the time. I theorized that some added rigidity might stiffen up the spine of the boot. It sounds like this was only marginally successful for him as his boots were really just too soft for him. However, you have to bring at least one ski strap with you anyway, add an extra and you have at least something to fall back on in the event that you tear out a buckle post-holing near a big rock or experience some other kind of equipment failure while off the beaten path.

Hotronic Foot Warmers
I used to think that boot warmers were only for city slickers, ski bunnies in poofy jackets with fur hoods, old people and other individuals not exerting themselves enough to produce any body heat while on the slopes. I now realize that they are in fact for ski bums who want to be able to ski bell-to-bell after the Arctic Oscillation dumps an eye-balls deep blanket of snow on top of Jay and tops it off with an ambient temperature of zero degrees Fahrenheit and 40 mph winds without getting yet another case of first degree frostbite.

The bite of frost, depicted in graphic detail. Notice the swelling, even on the normal colored toes.

They’re actually on the upswing here. After about an hour or so of being under a warm blanket the colored started to come back the blood started to effuse.

They some times go numb during long hikes…

With our Wallowas trip already reserved and mostly paid for, the only reasonable decision was to pick up some boot warmers and play it safe for the foreseeable future. The crux of the whole setup is getting the 4 cell batteries and the extension cords. I drop the extension cords down each pant leg, tie the extension into a simple knot and leave the batteries either in my pants pockets or clipped to my belt. The belt is easily the more comfortable and convenient location, however storing them in a pocket should theoretically increase the battery life. On low power, the 4 cell battery has lasted me all day. Just having the option of instant heat alleviates a significant amount of stress during a long day in the mountains. They’re worth the price tag.

Virtually no chance of the extension cord pulling out and snaking up your
pant leg.

Booster Straps
These are among my favorite purchases of the ski season. For some reason, these aftermarket replacement straps seem to be most popular among the ski-racing culture and less so in the AT and back-country crowd. Usually back-country shops have never heard of them, and when I walked into the local race shop with my BD Factor’s to get Booster Straps installed, the boot tech had never even heard of Factors… Clearly some cross-pollination is needed. In any case, the leverage you are able to apply to the jam cleats on these things really lets you get them as tight as you could possibly want. The slight give in the elastic bands gives you a really smooth flex and stiffens toward the end of the range, eliminates shin bang, and generally gives me considerably greater confidence in my boots. They come in several stiffness-es: Junior, Intermediate, Expert and World Cup. I went with the Expert on my Lange Comp Pro 120s and the World Cup on the DB Factor 130s. I swear to Ullr, the World Cup straps stiffened the Factors up to the point that they’re comparable to the Langes!

Nokian Hakka 7 SUV Studded
Last, but by no means least, if you intent to chase storms and can possibly scrounge up the cash (or get another credit card) just get yourself the top of the line kicks for your ride. Your frayed nerves will thank you in years not taken off the end of your life after countless white-knuckle rides through mountain passes in dim light. In all seriousness my only concern with these tires is getting rear-ended by people who can’t stop as quickly. The road noise is totally negligible and even with no snow on the ground, they feel as though they give a much more precise ride than the all-weather tires my car came with. And they look pretty sweet, too.

Gear List (click links for more product info):

The Oregon Trip: Wallowas Highlight Reel

This post is part of a series.

The Oregon Trip: Big Mountain Lines

Continued From The Oregon Trip: Road Trip.

We settled on making a push for The Horn. We’d head due west for a few miles, make our way into the alpine and try our luck at the couloirs descending from Horn. We made breakfast, melted some snow to top off our Nalgenes, plotted a few waypoints on our GPS devices and hit the skin track.

Our route brought us down into Bob’s Hole, up and over Norway Ridge and due west along the southern face of Norway Ridge and straight into the alpine. Eventually we’d hit a steep face just beneath the floor of the bowl underneath the horn. We’d kick turn our way up the face, and transition for a boot-pack up one of the couloirs to the top of The Horn and commence the slaying of big lines! Check out the objective area below.

View Norway Basin in a larger map

When we hit the trail, the whole place was totally socked in. It wasn’t really fog, just low cloud cover. Armed with map, compass, and GPS we hit the trail with confidence and determination. We kept spaced out for most of the skin track, but regrouped for route-finding discussions at islands of safety. For most of the skin we could really only see the person immediately in front of or behind us.

Instruments only. Rob skillfully breaks trail and navigates.

Karl and I get ready to space out before making a traverse.

The clouds start to break up, and we realize we’re right on target!

Rob gets to work on a snow-pit. He gets a Q2 CT 20 and an ECT with no propagation at all!

We emerged from the fog and cloud cover to discover that we were more or less where we wanted to be if not guilty of setting a ridiculous skin-track.

Until the fog lifted, there was some debate as to which route was best…

From here we had only a short climb into the floor of the bowl, where we could start our final ascent and get ready for the skiing! As we made our toward the last big push, the clouds totally clear out, and we start to get a good look at what we’ve gotten ourselves into. We can’t help but split ear to ear grins…

Karl, on the floor, just beneath run number one. In the background, a large cornice can be seen with avalanche debris below it.

Brad, with our second run of the day in the background.
Photo credit: Ryan.

Me, in the floor of the cirque facing out toward Red Mountain.
Photo credit: Ryan

Ryan, ready for action.

Here’s where it starts to get good…

After having a good look around, eating some snacks, drinking some water and joking around, we put on our game faces. It was time to throw the skis on our backs, set a boot pack, and then ski! Until now, we hadn’t really done anything remarkable. Sure, we’d had a few good turns the previous afternoon, and we’d done some nice skinning in a relatively pristine wilderness, but this is what we were really here for. We were in the alpine, the sun was out, stability was excellent, and there were only a few precarious steps between us shredding couloirs and bowls! The planning, the, flying, the driving, the credit card bills, the labored breathing, and the sweat were all about to pay off…

At the top of the climb we arrive at a convenient landing area. We stop to admire our boot-pack and scope out run number two.

A short stroll from our landing area, Brad makes a discovery…

…and we all go to have a look.

We sit in awe for a good 20 minutes, speculating endlessly about the bewildering array of skiing and climbing spread out before us.

Rob surveys the land.

Mountains, desert… …and mountains.

The entrance to run one, and run two in the background.

A view of the ridge, as it wraps back from our position toward the south facing flank.

After we’d had our fill of breathtaking scenery, we returned to the task at hand: slaying big mountain lines. After some debate, we decided to split up: Rob and Brad would ski the steep, narrow chute running northeast off of The Horn, and Ryan, Karl and I would take the wider, mellower chute off of the northwest flank of The Horn. We’d regroup in the floor of the bowl, then cross the floor, and ascend the south facing slope, traverse northeast along the ridge and drop in from somewhere near the top. Most of the best GoPro footage is from these two runs.

Gettin’ ready for action!
Photo credit: Brad

Rob does the honors…

Brad follows suit.

Rob and Brad’s line can be seen winding it’s way down from the buttress at the top left of the frame.

A closer view of the same.

Me, taking that tentative first turn.

Karl, dropping in. Ryan spectates from the top.

Karl opens up the throttle.

Ryan gets after it.

Some high speed shredding.

All smiles, for some reason…

The line skied by me, Karl and Ryan.

Mission Accomplished! Our first objective of the day was a resounding success, and armed with a powerful adrenaline rush, we concocted a route up the opposite face in search of our next conquest. The next climb was relatively short and totally non-technical – we took our time and enjoyed the climb. We were greeted by stunning views in practically every direction we turned.

Brad on the traverse.

Ryan and Karl breaking trail toward line two.

Scale… Right around here Karl remarked that he was ‘baking’ and felt like he was ‘crossing the desert’. We were, after all, in the middle of a Superdome sized parabolic mirror.
Photo credit: Brad

Rob on his way.

Kick turns…
Photo credit: Brad

Just one last traverse before run two!

Not a bad place to hang out.

On the home stretch…

Ryan looks back over our skin track.

Ryan and Brad dropped in just below us.

Karl, wrapping up a transition.

Rob, ready for round two.

Again, we were compelled to loiter around the top of the ridge admiring the scenery and contemplating the awesomeness of alpine touring. We lazily traversed across the ridge from the saddle toward the high end where we planned to drop in. It was mostly non-technical, with one brief steep section that simply required some deliberate movement. We stopped short of the absolute top of the ridge because the snow quality seemed to deteriorate close to the craggy top. There were certainly a few cool chutes dropping down from the top and emptying out into the wide-open run-out. However, in the afternoon sun the snow was warming up quickly. Lots of wet slough was running down from the craggy peak and ruining the snow surface. We kept our eyes open for rollerballs and planned to make this our last run for the day before heading back for Bob’s Hole and the yurt. We stuck to the middle of the slope for the best skiing and laid down some nice super-g turns.

I start getting the camera ready for action while Ryan and Brad, to the left, and Karl and Rob to the right study their line.

Ryan, all smiles as usual.

Brad slays.

Rob charges the fall line.

Last but not least, Karl gets after it.

Making our way back to the yurt.

After an epic day in the alpine, the yurt might as well have been the penthouse suite: we split some wood, stoked the fire, and made ourselves at home. The view from outside the yurt was nearly as good as the view from the alpine, and the yurt itself was like a haven of warmth and comfort in the midst of a vast wilderness. Truly, life was good!

Home sweet, yurt: bastion of back-country comfort and luxury!

Me, splitting wood for the stove.
Photo credit: Brad.

Ryan strums up some victorious tunes after our successful alpine mission.
Photo credit: Ryan

The evening view out the front door of the bunk rooms.

The yurt, with Spines and Lines just visible beyond.

Continue Reading at The Oregon Trip: Spines, Lines and Woods.

Gear List (click links for more product info):

The Oregon Trip: Road Trip

There’s no short way to tell this tale, so I won’t even try. In fact, the scope of the story is so great, that words would hardly do it justice. To that end, I’ll start with the map:

View Norway Basin in a larger map

The plan was to rally in Portland and embark on a shred-quest, the scale of which had been witnessed by none of us before… The team consisted of myself, Rob, his brother Brad, Brad’s best friend Ryan, and fellow ski team alum Karl. We’d rally in Portland, drive 6.5 east to Halfway, OR. From there we’d meet up with the Wallowa Alpine Hut guides at the Carson House and spend one last night in civilization before plunging into the wilderness. The following morning, the guides would tow us into the woods behind a snowmobile for roughly 6 miles, at which time, we’d skin an additional 2.5 miles and 2000 vertical feet to the Norway Basin yurt. The yurt would serve as our back-country skiing base-camp for the next 5 nights.

Halfway, OR…

Halfway to nowhere, in the words of Karl Cyr…

Plains, mountains…

…and sunsets.

View Norway Basin in a larger map

In the map above, the black path represents the drive, the green represents the snowmobile drag, and the blue is the skin to the yurt. The bed marks the Carson House.

View Norway Basin in a larger map

Right around now, it dawns on us: we’re actually doing this!

After some last minute ‘gear harmonizing’ at the trail head, we were on the trail, in pursuit of pow, gnar, first tracks, fist descents and virtually every other Holy Grail conceivable to five back-country skiers such as ourselves.
The snowmobile drag got off to a great start, including one overheated drive-train, resolved by shoveling a bunch of snow onto the tread, and one mid-course un-packaging of the gear sled, resulting in the loss of some miscellaneous gear, and all four tow-ees. The snow machine turned around and came back for us and the gear as soon as they realized that about 1000 lbs. of dudes had dropped off the tow line.

At about mile 6, we transitioned into climbing skins and prepared for the final push toward base camp. Laden with extra clothes, emergency gear, spare parts and overnight gear, the last 2.5 miles from the sno-mo drop-off to the yurt, took us nearly two hours. Once at the yurt, we took some time to unpack our non-essentials, hydrate and rest before a quick orientation with our guides, Kip and Victor. From a local high point, known as Rocky Top, they pointed out most of the significant land marks and major regions accessible from the yurt. Victor’s knowledge of the area proved indispensable and we left him hefty tip. Once we were all oriented, we took a quick schuss down to Bob’s Hole, the landing area for virtually everything west of the yurt, and then headed back to the yurt for some planning and R&R.

Home sweet, yurt.

Unloading any excess gear.
Photo credit: Ryan

So much gear!
Photo credit: Brad

Skin track.
Photo credit: Brad.

Photo credit: Brad.

Victor and Kip showing us the lay of the land.
Photo credit: Brad.

Transitioning.
Photo credit: Ryan.

Finally, a few glimpses into the terrain we’ll be skiing. The topo maps
don’t do it justice.

Photo credit: Brad

Inspecting our handiwork.

View Norway Basin in a larger map

Karl and Brad, doing some homework.

With about 3000′ of vert and one decent run under our belts we retreated to the yurt to gear up for the next day. The recent rain event and associated warm-up had destroyed virtually all of the deep persistent instabilities. There were a few sun crusts near the surface of the snow pack, but precipitation since the development of those layers had been sparse. If anything were to rip out, it would be low consequence. Additionally, the forecast for the following day was fair, but weather was expected to be moving in toward the end of the day. If we really wanted to get into the alpine and slay some big lines, we’d have one shot at it. We ate, drank, stared at the map until it was nearly committed to memory, and hit the sack for an alpine start the next day, with alarms set for 6 AM.

A lot to take in…

Continue Reading at The Oregon Trip: Big Mountain Lines.

Gear List (click links for more product info):