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

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):

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):

Continued From The Oregon Trip: Big Mountain Lines.

Having temporarily slaked our big-mountain-line-slaying thirst with the previous day’s activities, we got off to a decidedly non-alpine start for the second full day.  We had heard that the forecast was for snow and poor visibility, and sure enough it was pretty socked in when we lumbered out of the yurt that morning.  To make matters, it came in wet and heavy, on top of the whatever may have refrozen after the afternoon’s sun.  Between the dubious snow-pack and our dubious legs, we decided to stay out of the alpine and stick to low consequence pistes for the day.

Overcast and wet…

The fog made for some surreal scenes.

Low viz…

The conditions were less than inspiring, but we figured we’d make a go of it.
Photo credit: Ryan.

Our first objective of the day was to head back up toward Rocky Top, and check out the conditions on the windward side of the ridge.  It was a decent sized slope with a medium pitch but nothing too complicated.  I broke trail through the heavy, crusty mank that had come in over night.  At the top of the ridge the winds were whipping up a ground blizzard and practically chased us down into the cover of the terrain contours.  Unfortunately the wind had beaten us into submission, and no one bothered to pull out a camera for this leg of the trip…

View Norway Basin in a larger map

The skiing was half-decent if not a bit crusty and the weather was much more tolerable off the ridge.  However we learned an important lesson: the snow was slabby and the wind direction was being influence by the local contours of the land.  What we thought was a windward slope was actually getting loaded from somewhere.  Rob and Karl both kicked off very smalls slabs (a few inches deep and running only 10 feet or so).  They were both able to ski out of these slides, but we decided that it was time to seek more sheltered less exposed terrain.  After all, the snow was still coming down and the wind was still blowing.  We turned back toward Bob’s Hole, swung by the yurt for a lunch-time IPA and pushed on toward Spines and Lines, a set of spines and chutes nestled just south of the yurt.

View Norway Basin in a larger map

Spines and Lines dumps you into the Pit of Despair, a local depression lower in elevation Bob’s Hole and considerably lower than the yurt.  Nothing like winding up like 600 vertical feet below home at the end of a day of skiing.  We made sure not to wind up at the absolute bottom of the Pit, yet when we got to the end of the run and saw the climb that lay ahead of us, we despaired anyway….

Anyhow, the skiing looked decent and there seemed to be very little wind around the yurt when we left, so we hoped the snow-pack would be more reasonable in that area.  Brad broke trail up to the top of the line and we eagerly got ready to ride some untouched back-country spines.  The snow was still heavy and but we made the best of it and shot some quality POV footage.  Karl and I rode the spine to looker’s left (above), and Ryan, Brad and Rob followed the chutes to looker’s right.  The snow was nowhere nearly as slabby as it had been earlier in the day, but Rob still managed to kick off a large slough in one of the chutes, reaffirming our suspicions that the alpine would be a no-go for the rest of the trip.  We climbed out of the Pit of Despair and returned to the yurt to plan our attack for the last full day of skiing.

I break trail up out from the Pit of Despair back to the yurt, with Brad following.
Photo credit: Ryan.

When we awoke on the last full day, we were greeted to nearly two feet of heavy new snow.  Low angle woods, here we come.  We plotted a course due east of the yurt toward East Lake Falls.  The slopes to the east of Rocky Top cascaded their way through well spaced evergreen and eventually into a north-south running drainage.  We decided to check out the conditions and just lap woods for the day.  Again, the gloomy weather left us without sufficient motivation to pull out the point-and-shoots, but we managed to capture some good POV cam actionand even some cool chase cam shots.
View Norway Basin in a larger map

Continue Reading at The Oregon Trip: Return to Civilization.

Gear List (click links for more product info):