H2snOw

My weekend started with a Wedding. I actually wasn't invited to the wedding. I was invited to the reception though, and really that is where all the fun is to be had. I was glad to be in attendance. Of course, it was also a bit awkward. Just a year ago my marriage ended, and here my good friend is moving her relationship to the next obvious step. I cannot help but feel a little self pity. My horoscope for Friday said to end it with a romantic kiss. I didn't think it ended with a romantic kiss until someone pointed out "Not for you anyway, but certainly for the bride and groom." All in all, I did get to dance with the bride-- What a great way to start a weekend!

Saturday morning, I casually got out of bed, finished packing the car with my gear and picked up Mack in Silverdale. Mack has become one of my regulars to be outside with and this has been great for moving up my experiences. We left and met up with Jay, a really nice new addition to the crew. Also, he gets props for stamina and solid skiing technique.

We arrived at the base of Mount Adams about 4:30 PM and unloaded the gear to packed up for the hike to 5,600 feet. Only a 1,400 foot gain the first day, but it would give us an easy start right from the tree line, and we wouldn't have to wake up early.

With Mack's Jetboil we heated water and I realized that dehydrated noodles were not enough to sustain. I was the noobie out there and was okay with it. I had water, and cliff bars, and I had a place to sleep warm through the night. I'd be okay. Still, I was thinking that I should have carried more meal like food. I was even offered extras from my cohorts, but I guess I would learn this lesson the hard way.

I was the first to crash out, and there was some talk about pictures of the full moon. The next thing I knew Mack's alarm was going off. The mountain was warm, and I didn't fret about getting dressed. Of course, I did sleep in enough clothing that I was plenty warm. I love my bivy... so nice.

Oatmeal and a Luna bar for breakfast, chugged some tea, and back to skinning up the hill. It became apparent I was going to be the slow one in the group. I trudged along and the thin air took its toll from my body. Mack had ski crampons and so zipped through the frozen crust seemingly without effort. Jay and I got to the first steep slope and when I saw Jay sit to put boot crampons on, I did the same. I was clumbsy, and without technique but I managed and made my first steps up the slope.

At first, it wasn't a big deal, I took one step at a time. Then I hit the steep stuff. It looked like a shear wall too me. It was probably 65 degrees, maybe more steep. I eventually caught up and Mack who already had 45 minutes to rest. He was ready to go again. I trudged along, and soon realized I was going to have to let these guys go ahead, and I would make my way up alone. I would go for Piker's Peak, and they would make the Adam's summit.

Mack and Jay waited for me a second time at the Lunch Table. There questions were thrown at me. Did I have a headache, was I gasping for breath, was I dizzy? No. Kind of, but not really. No. I found that I could take five or ten steps but then I had to rest. That was my progress. I kept going. At this rest, I pushed down a Cliff bar and a sandwich, drank lots of water, put on sunscreen, and decided my skis were to heavy to carry any further. The sun had softened the snow crust just enough that walking in crampons was becoming difficult and the slope was low enough that I could skin again. I made the swap and started to move much quicker up the hill. Mack and Jay were long gone, and I couldn't identify them among the others on the hill.

The last 2K to Piker's Peak seemed very long. The clouds moved in, and visibility was very limited. Rocks on the left and right. It made sense to traverse between those points and keep going up. At one point I saw another guy putting his skis on to take an early ride home. I was tempted to do the same. I kept taking my steps forward. In the clouds people were glissading down from the Piker's and I wouldn't see them until they were just a short bit away. Apparently, Piker's Peak is were most people stopped. Only a handful of people would make the final ascent to Adams Summit. More temptation to send me back down the mountain.

The sun broke and showed My summit to me. Or maybe I just ascended high enough to be above the clouds? It looked so far, and so steep. A rock pile along the way would be my goal. And then another pile of rocks would be the next goal. I continued my traverse on skins until my progress was hindered by the step forward slide down. I plunked my butt into the hill side, and put the crampons back on. My left leg cramped up -- that glissade line was just right there, it would have been so easy to just ride it down.

With my skis on my back, my poles in hand, and crampons on my boots I turned into the hill. I took a big kick, probably with more energy than I had to spare, plunging my toe into the face I was about to climb. Nineteen more times and then I could rest. I would make it my goal to take twenty steps at a time straight up the hill before I could rest.

My guess, I had 300 more steps which meant 15 points I could rest. The sun warmed me enough that I found energy to keep going. People would glissade past me or ski past and say things like "It's worth the pain, you're so close" and "Sweet turns ahead!" All I could do was think about the runners wall. You know where you try to move forward but your body rejects your mental request? I would struggle to actually lift my foot at times. Sweat was freezing in my beanie, and my breath was crystalizing on my glasses. I would agree to rest a little bit longer but I wasn't going to compromise the twenty step goal.

I finally go to that point were you can feel the slope decrease and the walking becomes easy. I think I started to hurry and found that I was there. Or at least, I was at my "there." I would go no further up this mountain. I dropped my pack, pulled off my beanie, loosened my boots, pulled out the puffy to keep what little warmth I had gained, and found a nice rock to lounge in until Mack and Jay would return from the Summit.

I wasn't there more than ten minutes when I ran out of water, and all my food was gone. I watched a guy ski off the summit to another point fifty yards away. I finally realized it was Mack. I waved, and he yelled back to confirm he saw me. I had my feet up relaxing, my knee throbbing. Mack would have to walk back to me. Or he'd have to wait until my body would agree with my brain to get up and move again.

I was glad Mack had arrived so soon, I took some of his water, and some Shot Blocks -- Oh so refreshing! And I took a VitD and two Aleve for my knee. We chatted for a good 30 or 40 minutes before Jay would show up. Jay ate his lunch at the Summit after laying out on his sleeping pad that he carried the whole way.

Jay would take a picture of each of us at Piker's, and then we made our way back down the hill. We'd also gain a forth to our crew, Michael, who just days before had summitted and skied down Mt. Rainier. Our turns were swift, and it was probably 40 minutes of skiing before we got back to camp. The fog along the way was trouble, and we managed to even separate and find our way back together. Michael would leave us to continue down the hill while we rested and packed up our camp. Mack made some tea and we did the final pickup of our things.

Packs full we did the final 1400 feet pretty quickly. I'm not sure how I did it, my legs were so tired, my knee ached. My body just floated through the turns paid out before me. And then dirt. Jay would put his tennies back on and haul his boots and skis on his pack. I decided the pack was heavy enough without my boots, and I think it was a smart choice for me. I made the final trek to the car pretty quickly, and found Mack changing into other clothing. I unlocked the car, and started to remove all the wet stinky clothing. And when Jay arrived -- BEER!

Hydrated, and some gushers to take the edge off it was time to go home. Our trip a success. I had done my first true alpine ascent of a mountain. I didn't make the Summit, but now I have something to look forward to achieving. I did climb from 4,200 feet to 11,600 feet. What an amazing feeling. I want to jump up and brag, even though I know so many people went further, and so many people have achieved the same goal. Oh wait, that is what this blog is about... bragging and to remind me of why I'm doing all of it.

Snow Country for Old Men

5:50 AM

I woke 10 minutes to 6 o'clock.  Let Hana out for a quick potty break, and then fed her.  I grabbed the last of my things and put them in the car.  My iPod, my lunch, my water and pack, pats for the pup, and a quick good bye to my house guest.  My house guest was heading back east to take a test and I left her on the couch as I drove off to meet up with my skiing partners. 

6:30 AM

I arrived a few minutes before meeting Mack.  The bagel shop was closed.  The market was closed.  Okay, no breakfast.  Mack was a couple minutes late and we quickly moved his gear into my Element.   Mack quickly moved into grading papers.  That is what he does on trips to climbing or skiing.  As far as I know anyway.

7:00 AM

Doug was the first to arrive at the P&R in Purdy.  We were running late, but it turns out that Walter wanted to meet even later.  He settled on 7:10 AM.  Introductions were made.  I was the new guy in the group.  And I was the youngest.  62, 56, 54, 36.  You figure out the combination. 

We loaded our gear into Walter's CR-V and drove off to Paradise on Mount Rainier.  We stopped along the way at a small bakery.  You're likely to miss it if you don't know about it.  It was after the turn at Key Bank.  I don't remember the path.

Watch Off

We arrived in the parking lot and unloaded.  Snow was packed into the cooler so the beers would be cool at the end of the day.  Mack, ever the social butterfly, chatted up a number of other skiers.  He knew some of these people by name from the Turns All Year forums.

Skis On

We moved pretty fast.  Mack and I have a little greeting.

"Are you Good?"

"Yes.  Are you slow?"

"No." 

We got moving up the ridge pretty quickly.  I'd guess maybe 40 minutes to the ridge.  At the ridge, Mack took a picture of me in front of the avalanche that slid the day before, or so we guessed.  We then did the traverse across the ridge following safety protocols.  Mack went first, moving quickly, then Doug, then Walter, and I followed to the ridge leading to Bundy's.

Unskinned

I grabbed some water and had half my PBJ.  Mack took the first turns down Bundy's.  Doug and Walter moved to make some turns too.  I waited until they cleared the hump and made links to Mack's turns.  A beautiful set of 8's were left on the slope.

We crossed the stream and were back to skinning our skis.  Doug lead the way up the Mazama Ridge.  Mack and I quickly took the lead and at the top drank more water and ate more food while we waited.  Doug arrived first and Mack quickly put him to the beacon location test.  Doug closed his eyes, and Mack and I made marks in the snow and buried one of the beacons.  Doug then learned how to use a beacon to locate someone buried in an avalanch.  Walter caught up and didn't rest much before we made the slow trek to the Back Bowl.  Walter was the only one without a beacon... and he had the car keys.  Huh. What were thinking?

Back Bowl

We arrived at the Back Bowl.  The snow was pristine.  I got nominated to make the first turns.  I skied over the left edge of the cornice diving deep under  it, and make a few turns before stopping so I could take pictures of Mack going over the top.  The pictures will come later, as they are all on Mack's camera.  The slide from my turns went on for some time.  The cool/scary part of my slide is that it all occurred under the surface.  A few pinwheels were seen but the sliding was all auditory for the next 30 seconds.  It was Mack's turn next.

The sun was bright, and my polarizing lenses made it difficult to capture Mack, but I got a few successful pictures.  Mack crossed the cornice and turned hard quickly under the lip and followed through with several turns as he skied past.  I turned and linked his turns once again.  We waited for Walter and Doug, but were quick to make our way to the top for a few more runs.

Mack and I moved far right for our second trip down the bowl.  Mack moved high into the next ridge, and I took a lower ridge.  Mack took the first turns this time, and I followed him making eleven turns in just over 200 feet.  Here our attempt to lap the other two was successful, and we stole more clean lines.  The bowl was being carved up pretty good.  We met at the top of the bowl, I pushed down some couscous and shared in the offer of an orange slice and a swig of Mocha Kalua.  I also finished off my water.

3:20 PM

One more set of turns in the Back Bowl was required.  Mack and I made our way left of where I took my first turns.  The rollover of the hill was steep.  Mack took the first turns, and a couple far and high left of us on the ridge hooted and cheered him through his turns.  It was my turn again, and I could feel my knees stiffening up.  I took two turns, and lost my line.  I crossed the Mack's slump and made a turn back, but lost my line again and crossed the slump again.  Not a great line, but Mack told me to stay left.  I skied down another hump and got some clean turns.

Mack started skiing to me and again there was a cornice/rollover for him to take, I cheered him through it and he made a clean drop.  His shit-eating-grin was as wide as the Bowl, and unfortunately unphotographed.

4:20 PM

Fortunately, the trek was short before the final trek down to the road.  We skinned a short distance.  Mack pulled a Oreo Cookie Poptart out and we shared it.  Then I took the lead for the first turns again.  It was kind of crazy with trees on one edge, and ridge of snow on the other.  I peeled through the turns and just found clean waves to leave in the behind.  Across the way we could see our lines on Bundy's.  Happiness.

More to come...

All the pictures were on other cameras so I will have to wait for them to come my way.  Once I get them, I will update this post. 

That's a Problem

Nope, it just isn't right.  My thoughts were not complete.  I wasn't willing to say what I wanted to say... After some discussion, and the fact that I'm awake at 4 AM to remove this post -- I will rework my thoughts and find the courage to write clearly what I intended, or find something else to say.

Quick Hit -- Thank you, Access Fund!

I just wanted to put a thank you out to the Access Fund. The other week I posted a video of the port-a-can's at the Frenchman Coulee Climbing area. When I returned for climbing last weekend, the port-a-cans had been removed. I don't know if my video had any impact, but I'm truly grateful to know that these items are no longer a blight on this climbing area. Of course, I was never certain the Access Fund was the group providing the port-a-cans, it was only my impression, but non-the-less I targeted them so my thanks and appreciation will also target them. I wish that this climbing area had the respect of non-climbers and there was a way to provide a climber/public potty. For now, climbers will just have to carry out their waste. Not a bad practice to get in the habit of doing. Again, Thank you, Access Fund!

Climbing @ Frenchman Coulee

Tuesday, instead of working, I headed out to Eastern Washington with my friend Laura for a day of climbing. The weather looked horrible. I woke early and made my way to Seattle, the rain was dumping and the thought to carry my ski gear didn't cross my mind. I wanted to climb. I'm going to climb!

I got to Laura's about 7 o'clock and we moved my gear to her car. She made me a quick egg salad sandwich and we were on our way. We didn't even put on music as we talked the whole way across the mountains. The rain didn't stop until about Ellensburg where we could finally see some blue sky breaking through the clouds. Chances of climbing didn't look good but we were still optimistic.

When we arrived we could see the ground was still wet and the rock was not the driest it could be. Oh well, what are are you going to do, the sun is out... lets chill in the rays and wait for the walls to dry. In the camp ground below, an all girls school was on a field trip learning to be empowered... I guess. Lots of squawking for certain. Sorry, I shouldn't make fun of young impressionable girls... yep, lots of squawking.

We talked with a few of their guides and counselors. An amazing group of women... these young girls were in very good hands. They scoped out plans to take over the Feathers climbing area, so we planned to get up a few routes before they finished their belay safety.

The sun dried a couple of routes pretty quickly, so I was on lead for the day. Laura is a more experienced climber than me, but she's been injured and her head isn't ready to take on that challenge... yet. I can feel her just waiting to take the sharp end though.

We started a few short and easy warm up runs. Surprisingly, it wasn't so easy. I sagged the first lead, but I decided to go back and re-climb it clean. It was my first lead since October of last year. I hadn't even lead in the gym since then. I guess it is time to get a gym rope and start practicing. Aside my lack of leading skill, the sun was warming our backs and the walls were drying out more. I sagged a lot this day, but I never totally freaked out and never was out of my skill range. I need to get my head focused for a longer climb. I'll take the sags though. Some would say it wasn't a good climb... I say it was 5.FUN! (Yeah, Laura, I stole that from you...)

Eventually, after a few climbs each and a snack, we made our way over to Sunshine wall. The sun became less pronounced and more clouded. You can see from the picture that the sun was cloud dodging most of the day. At Sunshine Wall we mostly scoped out the climbs and got in one more long pitch up Clip'em or Skip'em. It was probably the hardest 5.8 I have ever done. Not because it wasn't a 5.8, but the bolt placements sucked. Seriously, if I were a braver man, I would have skipped a few bolts. And the top out was naked... I was able to balance my way up, but it was still difficult. Laura thinks she found the hold that I missed that was bomber, and I just made it harder than it needed to be... Big surprise there. Where are my taped holds? Way too much time in the gym.

Back at the car I decided to make a little video. At the Frenchmen Coulee climbing area there are a couple of sani-cans or port-a-potty (what ever you want to call them) with a long history of neglect and abuse. On our visit the cans were in no condition to be used. They clearly hadn't been serviced in a very long time, and had become a place to dump garbage. These cans come as a courtesy of the Access Fund. Or so I am lead to believe. I apologize if I am mistaken and will gladly make a correction both here and in the video below. However, I feel it must be addressed in some form. First, if these cans are provided from any of our beloved climbing communities that we all rely on to help make climbing available, it is important for them to leave a good impression. These toilets are disgusting. Second, if these toilets were once provided as a service and are no longer... it is unacceptable to leave them unattended in the climbing and camping area. Have I mentioned that these toilets are disgusting? Third, and finally, I'm not here to abuse my beloved Access Fund as I love my t-shirt, and other gear they provided when I was given this a gift a couple years ago, and I continue to maintain my membership. I love what you provide, inspire, and help make available. Someone -- PLEASE -- prove me wrong. This is just sad.

[ The Video was removed, and so were these port-a-potties. Thank you to whomever responded and made the change! ]

Hurricane Ridge

I went to carve my name is the snow. CHRIS WAS HERE!

I woke up at 6:00 AM and printed out a avalanche report, left it on the printer and started to get ready to leave. At 7 o'clock I watch my ride drive past my house. He'd figure out soon enough that he'd have to turn back around. Mack had been here before, turns out that he was still waking up and had missed a couple of turns already along the way. I went out to the road to flag him down, my gear in the driveway, so we could get on our way. Loading up took just a minute, and the drive was quiet.

I poured Mack some coffee he brought in a thermos, and watched out the windows at the white peaks I wanted to drop into and ski. Somewhere before Port Angeles and after Sequim we stopped at an organic grocery store, I picked up a Naked Green Machine to start my morning. Mack grabbed some veggie sandwich, and I took over driving for a short bit.

Mack pulled out the transceiver to give me a quick review from the passenger seat. "On at the car, off at the bar." Easy enough to remember. I began the short portion of the drive to the National Park Gate at Hurricane Ridge. I missed a turn, we had to back track a little. Apparently, a theme for the day... Lots of back tracking.

We arrived and got the prime parking spot. We went into the lodge to sign in for the day, an use the facilities. Got our boots on, backpacks prepped, and transceivers strapped on.

We walked over to the trail and tested the equipment. I skied past Mac, then he skied past me. The transceivers worked. Down the trail we made a few easy turns. A nice opening in the trees -- we turned off the trail. We headed into the trees. Mac first made some turns and came out to a flat area. I cut my turns and followed into the trees. I told Mac on the way up, I don't fall. You know that is a sign your going to fall. We hit our next hill, and Mac took a small spill but was up right away. I followed a similar path and turn over into the snow. Pillow fight! I stepped out of my ski. It didn't take long to get the ski back on and catch up to Mac.

We eventually got caught in a gully that was sluffing in front of us. No way out but down. Some tight turns and eventually we were caught in tree line that was not going to let us through easily. Eventually, after some tree climbing and breaking through the branches, a few final turns led us into a field of some twiggy bushes that made skiing a bit difficult. We decided to stop for a quick break.

We grabbed a quick bite, and tested out the transceivers by burying them in the snow and locating them each in turn. A pretty simple process really. I would hate to have to actually find someone buried though. We put the skins on and made our back up the hill. The initial trekking wasn't too bad, but getting through all the branches wasn't easy. There were a few areas that even the skins wouldn't keep you from sliding backwards.

We eventually got through the tough part and started switchbacks up the open hill. Trekking uphill isn't that exciting, but the views and the exercise is fantastic. I never once thought about the fact I had left the iPod in the car. The air at a mile up is thin for my amphibian lungs, and I quickly realized I needed to manage my breathing. Breathe in with two steps, breathe out with two steps. That seems to work well.

As we approached the top of Steep & Icy we started a dug out for some avalanche testing. Mack started while I peeled his orange and took a few more pictures of the surrounding areas. Okay, Mack did all the work. I simply took pictures and was learning about how it all worked.

We did some avalanche tests to which it was concluded that on the NNE slope at 30 degrees we had CT21Q2 at about 9". We saw natural slab and point-release mischief on the 45 degree slope. A couple skied past us down the lovely face. I trampled the dugout to prevent someone skiing into it.

My knees cramped up and I had to stop and stretch. That was more fun than I could have ever hoped for really. We had a short trip to the hill top where Mack gave me something to put under my tongue that supposedly would help with the leg cramps. I definitely slowed down at this point. Trekking is hard work for sure.

We made our path back to the car for lunch. Again, Mack cruised and even with twenty years on me, he put me to shame. At one point I looked up to see him giving a young asian boy some tips for cross country skiing. Clearly the kid was having some first time fun. The trail was full of people walking out for the views. Many people were snowshoeing and cross country skiing. We ran into a few people along the way that Mack knew. We even saw a small group putting up an igloo and preparing for a night in the snow. Look forward to doing that myself one of these days.

At the lodge we snacked more; I had a Zing Bar. This bar was amazing! I bought it on accident but what a treat. I highly recommend giving these a try. But enough of the plugs for my favorite foods to eat on the trail. I filled up the water jug and looked forward to some additional runs.

We decided to do some last runs on the Lodge Run.

It was a short run of maybe 340 feet. The view was truly beautiful. On one side Cascades and on the other, the Pacific. We did this run a couple of times. I was so slow behind Mack on the trek up after the last run, when I got to the top and asked him if he'd had enough time to have a beer and sober up already?

We packed up and began the drive home. Mack had a swank party to attend, and we had to be back by 5 o'clock. All in all, the trip was a great success. Mack invited me to join him again which I took to be a great compliment. It was a short day and we had lots of fun, but not as many runs as I would have liked. Then again for $12 in gas money you cannot do much better.

What a great day to be in the snow. And now it is raining... bring on the snow!

The Anticipation.

I'm sitting at my kitchen table. The world before me is forcing me into decisions. I don't want to make a decision. I want to sit here and read my favorite blogs, and listen to my favorite podcasts. There are opportunities before me but they aren't the opportunities I want or need. My needs are screaming at me. It is time to go.

Tomorrow morning, I head up to Hurricane Ridge. Got my shovel, probe, pack, boots, poles, skis and skins... Do I need an avalung? Nah, I'm already borrowing a transceiver. Heard the snow is great. The Ridge just got a another dump of snow. At a mile up I can wave to Mom and family in Denver. Hope I don't freeze... Layer, layer, layer.

No, I won't forget the camera. This time the battery is charged... I better go double check that. I hear the views are great. I cannot remember the last time I was at the Ridge... I don't think I have ever skied there... though it is hard to say. Anyway I look at it, the adventure will be something to remember.

The crew tomorrow all have much more recent backcountry skiing, so we are going to play in the snow pack and do some avalanche tests, and practice with the transceivers. And then it is all skiing. For me, skinning up is a lot like racking up for a climb. There is an anticipation and excitement, a bit of self consciousness, a bit of fear, and a touch of self doubt too. The funny thing about all those things, I know that ultimately I will come out alright. It isn't about an adrenaline rush for me. It is about that moment when my tunes fad from my awareness, and my heartbeat picks up, my thoughts clear and I think about the next turn, the next hold, the next breath. Yeah, I too sometimes forget to breath.

I couldn't sit at the table all day, so I met up with my friend for some gym climbing. The gym has some pretty good climbs up lately. The only problem... I've been training so much that I'm basically repeating the same climbs. It is okay... I'm having fun. I'm smiling. I need to go to bed... Got to get up early. I'll be back here soon with some pictures and a trip report. If you want hear about it.

G'night, and sweet dreams of your next adventure!