As I drew near the crest of Primrose Cirque I sent Jim Knight, the guy that I was planning to meet at Emerald Lake, a text to see if he was on the trail.
He replied simply, "At hut, em lake."
I was now glad that I had elected to go up alone, I thought I was getting a head start because he had work so I kept looking back over my shoulder because expecting to see him gaining on me. Jim is close to twice my age and I have a hard time keeping up. The guy is a mountain machine.
I only had a couple hundred vertical to go before I reached the Hidden Lakes Basin but I was starting to drag. During that last little push I was encouraging myself out loud. Every time I go somewhere with a full pack it reminds me why I like dawn patrols, your pack weighs about a quarter as much.
I finally reached Jim and his dog at the "Hut" which is still completely buried. I cooked up some food and we sat and talked. Jim talked mostly while I asked questions. The guy has done it all. Quite a few of the climbing routes I have been doing lately are his, or his sons, creations. The ice axe I was using was even one of his designs.
The sun hit us early and we took our time letting the sun warm the snow. We made the decision to just head down Primrose instead of going any higher. As soon as we dropped in we knew it was a good idea. The snow was already too soft and sloppy, still fun, but sloppy.
It was a good little trip, I have been wanting to camp up there all year and now I did. Check. Now next season I know I want to do a multi-day trip up there, there is a lot to ride.
Dusk, it wasn't dark long. The full moon lit it up like day.
I want a dog like this in the future... She warmed up to me pretty quick and she can run for days.
Benjamin Louis Pelegrino, my boss and friend said, "let's go tour tomorrow" holding his brand new splitboard Burton had sent him. Naturally I said yes, so the next morning I drove up to his place with Parker and we headed for the White Pine Trailhead.
We laughed and enjoyed the deep settled powder as we made turns through the trees. Things were wonderful, but then mother nature decided to start messing with us. As we were traversing down the canyon to our next line we pushed our way through some trees whereupon I was attacked by a branch. I pushed the little sucker out of my way, but as I started to make my way forward I bent it just a little too far. SNAP. The stupid branch broke at my hand and recoiled straight into my face. Whap! Right in the nose. Idiot tree. I will probably go cut it down and burn it so it can't reproduce and make more idiot trees.
As we continued making the traverse across the increasingly steep slope, I looked up just in time to see Ben look down slope not noticing his downhill foot had given way while turning his head. He began a slow motion, narcoleptic looking fall straight off of the skin track onto his head in a tree well. I didn't laugh at first, I thought he was going to keep going down the hill through some trees. When I heard a muffled, "awe man..." from the tangled heap I began to crack up. After helping him get untangled we eventually made our destination: Red Pine Chute. We strapped in and had some awesome turns. But there is more to the story.
Parker went first, then Ben and I had the final drop. The snow was heavy but fun and we all made the bottom just fine. Smiles and a high five type moment. We looked down the rest of the slope to the river and noticed a she moose. The she moose didn't care what we were doing, but we gave her some space. As I was riding down to the river I suddenly was face down in the snow after hearing a loud snap. "I hit a stick. Crap... that was silly of me." But as I looked up to see what hidden little land mine had taken me out I noticed it was no stick. It was a big fat stump. The brain wheels were turning and I eventually figured I should look at my snowboard. Broke. It was not just broken... it was broke. The whole thing. Broke. So I tumbled down the last remaining slope to the river.
Obviously, since things were going so well for me I decided I would find the way across the river. So I set out looking. Funny thing about rivers in the winter is they form these things called snow-bridges. Now, these snow-bridges may look like sturdy ground, but I testify that they aren't. I splashed down into some almost waist deep water cursing as I scrambled to get back out. I couldn't even hear the laughter in the background for a little bit. I splashed my way across the river taking the snow off of the rocks so the others could cross before lobbing my board up on the bank only to see it make it's merry way out of sight. I thought for sure it was lost in the river. Thank goodness it wasn't.... I needed some of it.
When we finally arrived at the road I hitch hiked back to the car. We laughed about all of our follies and we grabbed some grub at Lonestar. What a great tour. It was one that will stay with me, that is for sure.
Don't worry... I already started making a new one.
Opening day at the Canyons provided some decent turns in creamy mashed potato snow. We met up with Justin Olsen and ducked into the trees where there was plenty of freshies to go around.
Justin put this up on the Canyons homepage. I am the last shot just taking a little turn.
Visibility had become minimal as the wind lashed at our faces. The forecast was calling for another few feet piling up within the next 12 hours with 80 mph gusts on the ridge lines. My breathing settled into a hypnotic rhythm as Forrest Shearer and I made our way up to Twin Lakes Pass. We were careful as we selected where to ride. Low angle with trees were the requirements and Forrest decided Silver Fork would fit the ticket.
The avalanche danger grew as the day wore on. As we were traversing the ridge we saw multiple fractures appear. We stood atop a small wind pocket on a fairly flat area that had filled with a mammoth wind drift. It sent fractures out at least 30 ft. As we got to our chosen drop in point we hugged the trees. A few small sluffs broke off and ran a little way in the little meadows in the trees. As we began to put our boards back together thunder crackled overhead. The storm kept getting worse and we decided we would hike up and just ride down to the cars.
Reaching the summit in the deep snow was a little slow going but we pushed our way to the top. Upon regaining the ridge the fog had set in and I was so turned around I didn't know which way it was to the cars. Good thing Forrest was there, he knows this canyon like the back of his hand. As we rode down, once again hugging the trees, Forrest popped out another good sized wind pocket. This one broke deep. It only ran a few feet but it was definitely time to be done.
This was my first time splitting with Forrest. Tagging a long with that guy will always result in adventure. Forrest on the traverse. I love this hike. My beard.... full of snow.
Here is a video I made of my day yesterday at the Bird. I rode alone most of the day and just went exploring. I found some fun stuff that I haven't hit before. The editing is pretty crappy.... I did it in like ten minutes. Today should be even better up there. Still trying to figure out the helmet cam.
Large flakes came to rest on my increasingly foggy windshield making it hard to see as another Sunday evening drew to a close. Photographer Parker Cross and I were waiting for Tyson Goodrich, the man behind Park City Mountain Resort’s superpipe. Tonight we were to get an insight into what its like operating one of the few 22 foot pipe Zauggs (a massive $112,000 snowblower backed with 190 horsepower that attaches to the front of a cat and is specifically for shaping halfpipes).
The snow picked up as I got word from Tyson that he had his cats in place.Parker grabbed his bag and we made our way across the vacant slopes to the base of the pipe where Tyson, a man with more than a decade of experience behind the controls, drove down to meet us.
After the handshakes and “nice to meet yous” were out of the way we climbed aboard started into the routine that Tyson goes through 7 nights a week for the length of the season. So far he has had only one day off since getting this enormous pipe up and running.As the light continued to fade the prep work began.
According to Tyson, grooming the decks and the flat bottom are key to keeping the pipe walls smooth and free of bumps.If there is a bump in the bottom of the pipe or up on the wall it will hang up the Zaugg and cause it to dig deeper into the wall.
Park City’s superpipe is the longest running 22-footer in America, opening December 19, 2005.It has been a long time spot of progression bringing the top names in half pipe from around the world.The roster of those that call this pipe home reads like a snowboarding version of the original 92’ Dream Team.
With a parched start to the season this year’s pipe relied solely on the snow making capabilities of the resort, which doesn’t come cheap.According to Alex Divers, of the resorts snow making team, they put all extra capacity into it for two weeks, blowing the 91 acre foot (meaning if all the snow was in one acre it would be 91 feet deep) necessary for the halfpipe.
Tyson pushed and shaped this massive pile of snow for weeks waking around 5 a.m. to the dark frigid mornings, and then working a superhuman shift lasting far into the night only to do the same thing the next day.
Driving a cat during these early stages of building is about as much fun as being at your local theme park stuck in the bumper cars with a group of little miscreant kids for a full day. The stop and go, back and forth, non-stop jerking and positioning of literally tons of snow can take its toll.
After finishing the prep work we made our way to swap cats.Climbing out in the darkness I looked over to see the massive piece of equipment which made me think of an ant holding some disproportionately huge leaf in its grasp.The trick that goes along with driving the massive Zaugg is finding where you can fit as you head down the hill, minding the chairs hanging overhead.
After weaving our way back down to the bottom of the pipe Tyson revved up the Zaugg.As it warmed up he pointed out the dials that allow him the ability to shape the walls almost an exact 5 degrees off of vert on an 18 degree slope.With the inhuman level of difficulty riding has reached, the pipe has become a matter of inches, which is no easy task for something longer than two boeing 747’s end to end.
Starting our way up the Olympic length of 550 feet he added some extra RPM’s and with minor flicks of the joystick we began to creep up the pipe.Having only seen the Zaugg in action 3 times from the outside, he goes off of feel and sound stating, “you can hear when you are cutting too deep.”The first portion of the wall is where you have to get it dialed in, sometimes leaving a few waves in the wall. When I asked how many passes it takes Tyson simply stated, “until it’s done.” On a good night with fresh snow he makes at least four passes on each wall.
As my time with Tyson drew to a close we climbed down from the tool he uses to move mountains, we thanked him and we said goodbye.He returned to his routine, pushing his way back up through the snow.
The Life of a cat driver is thankless.You arrive as the day draws to a close and the crowds are all heading home to rest.You sit alone in a dark cab as the night swallows the mountain.Hardly ever does anyone think about what you have created for them, or the time you have taken to get it to perfection.They show up to ride while you try and catch up on your sleep. There you watch, from the sidelines of your creation, as the kid with the trick of the day lays another step forward in the progression of the sport.
The next time you go to drop in, stop and admire what these sculptors have shaped for you.Their art is not in stone, it is a temporary tribute to fun and progression and it melts away every year.Their names don’t grace the pages of magazines or grab headlines, but they are there, working the graveyard for our enjoyment.So here’s to you guys, to all the Tysons hard at work each night. Thanks for being so good at what you do.
Snowbird. 21" of fresh in the last 24 hours and I must go to work. I do not begrudge my younger brother for being able to be up there in the deep stuff, nor do I feel ungrateful for my opportunity to have employment, but I would be lying if I said I would rather work today.
Last night I was planning on waking up early and getting first tram before I had to start my shift, but after doing the math I elected to save the gas money and put it toward more gear and another day. When I have splitboard #2 up and running I will be able to do some 5 a.m. excursions up Provo canyon, but in the meantime I will continue to sleep late and pray that it keeps snowing.
The weather today was about as bipolar as it can possibly get. I do realize that starting this post by talking about the weather probably sent any of you that actually read my hopeless drivel into a narcoleptic episode. Well when you wake up and decide to keep reading you will find more of the same which may make you debate going and watching some paint dry instead. Here is why I mention the weather; We drove up through the rain, parked in sunny clear skies, it started to snow, it got warm and sunny, then it got cold and snowed some more, anyway you get the point, Utah weather is like a teenage relationship, off and on, hot and cold.
Parker and I decided to just go ride Park City and take it easy. We spent most of the day in the perfectly shaped half pipe. The snow was perfect for riding pipe, soft and fast, so we had a ton of fun just messing around and trying some new tricks. We also ordered a helmet cam today which will add some awesome content to our blogs and the podcast. We are pretty excited about it and are planning a camping trip next weekend. Destination: Cardiac Ridge. Hopefully the avalanche danger is mellow so we can ride some steep lines.
"This is the place."- Brigham Young really knew what he was talking about. I love Utah. I love these mountains. I love riding with friends, and I love snow. Just after I snapped the picture above I sat alone on the lift looking up into the cloud covered sky watching the snow make its way down. It was the type of snow that stacks up quick. It didn't really start snowing until this morning and by the time we rolled up, there was enough to get some really good turns. It makes me ache to think about sitting in school tomorrow when it is going to be so deep. Responsibility... I wish I could blow it off and just live on clouds of pow. We met up with a good group of guys and searched out some great runs.
We finished out the day by heading deep into Tiger Tail. This was the first time this year I have been able to ride with my boss and friend Ben Pellegrino, which always ends up being rad. He knows these mountains better than just about anyone out there. He showed us to some deep untouched turns. Our last run took us out to the road to hitch hike back to the resort. High fives and good vibes were definitely a huge part of the day. Benny just about to drop in. Hitch hiking back up. White Pine Trail head.
