Lone Peak Cirque

 

I fumbled my pack together before crashing into bed around 1 a.m. Saturday. Three short hours later I was up and on my way to meet Forrest and Caroline. The moon kept the trail lit as we started our way up Bells Canyon. We bobbed and weaved our way through the thick vegetation and eventually hit snow. 

As I unpacked my split board I noticed my heel strap wasn't connected... I had lost a bolt. Thanks to a few Voile straps my day wasn't over. The frozen snow made skinning easy and with a lone coyote yipping away in the background the North East face of Lone Peak came into view. We skinned out of the mountains shadow and the towering face was nearly blinding in the early morning light. Pictures can't really do it justice. 

We continued to the base of the North East Couloir. The temperature seemed to be climbing faster than we were. Before long we were halfway up the chute and about to climb out over some exposure. We had noticed a few wet sloughs and after some debate decided to pull the plug. 

We rode to the base of another couloir that was on a different aspect and that didn't have any exposure. Not knowing if the chute has another name we decided to call it "consolation prize". Forrest was able to put it into a gear that I don't have and he kicked in a solid boot pack to the summit ridge. We topped out and took a break. We talked about going for the summit, but decided against it due to time constraints. 

We dropped in and had a nice long ride to the summit valley. I was a little timid on my makeshift binding, but ended the set up worked out pretty well. We were all amping when we regrouped, we talked about how awesome that was and how much we wanted to just stay up there. We didn't realize that getting out of Bells would be almost as difficult as getting in. 

The trip out was a mix of fun and torture. That area is full of so much amazing terrain, but then we would find ourselves in thick trees, long sections of flat, thigh deep slush, etc... as we fought our way back to the car we all seemed to forget how amazing everything was up high. I don't think I have ever been more dehydrated. 

It took a good night of sleep to help me remember how awesome the tour was. There were quite a few things we could have done to make the tour easier on ourselves, but that is the point of exploration. It was good to just be out with two great people. Forrest and Caroline make a great couple and it is always a treat when I get to hang out with them in the mountains. It was fun to check out a side of the Wasatch none of us had been to. 

 

Hidden Chute: A long awaited line

Schedules really suck. Well... most of the time they do. I will be the first to admit that I have a terrible perception of time, and most of the time I like being late. I like not having to be in certain situations for a required amount of time. Knowing what time it is only matters when you are somewhere you don't really want to be. Time also tells you how much longer you have to be there before you can be where you really want. Thus I don't wear a watch unless there is something on the schedule that I need to be to, or I am somewhere I would rather not be.

I have to give schedules credit though. The amount that can be accomplished when tasks are planned is how our caffeinated, road raging, impatient society functions, produces, and progresses. There is also the added benefit of having to "roll with it," making sure an activity or task makes the most of the time set aside for it. Unless you fall under the lackadaisical portion of society that is subject to Murphy's Law (a task will swell in perceived importance and complexity in direct correlation to the time allotted to it). I guess my brain-clock works by going from task to task rather than from hour to hour. So today we had to "roll with it."

You are wondering why I am talking about schedules? Well, I am trying hard to adjust to having one. I have had a schedule my whole life, but now there are more consequences to my not keeping track of the time. Now punctuality becomes part of performance, and performance=$$.

Today I am glad I had a schedule, I had to be somewhere by 5 p.m.

After arriving at the parking lot to meet up with Forrest Shearer (who was in Jackson Hole at 6 this morning), we set out to do a line called "The Heart of Darkness" that lies just below the summit of Monte Cristo. The photos of that line are what made me really want to get into splitboarding. It kind of made me realize how much is out there to see and explore. After getting a late start we had to change our plans. So Forrest showed me the way to "Hidden Chute," a line I have been looking up at for years.

You stare up at these massive faces, you hear stories of people riding them, and you imagine what it would be like to be there. I truly believe that if you think about something enough, it will happen. All it takes is making the first step. It is that way with everything in life.

This little couloir was one of my favorite lines of the year. It wasn't epic powder, or even that great of snow for that matter, it was just something I have wanted to do for a long time. Now it is done.

Forrest on "Scary Traverse"

Summit of Superior

Monte Cristo

Traversing the ridge

Forrest going for it.

Hidden chute

A look back up.

I forgot to charge my helmet cam. So bummed.

Green=up and Red=down

An uphill stroll

Waking up late is the worst. A 5:45 alarm can be more confusing that helpful at times. Awaking in a complete state of confusion with no clue what is creating all that noise or why it would be doing such a thing when you are so tired, is disconcerting. Nearly an hour passes when I get a call from Parker saying, "hey! I am at the mouth of Little Cottonwood. Where are you?"

"Crap."

I was supposed to meet Forrest Shearer and Parker at the Parking lot at Alta. I shoot Forrest a text and then scramble out the door. We were hoping for a long tour but my absent mind forgot that I have to work at 4. We still have enough time for some fun so when I finally get my sorry butt up to the trail head and we get moving. Forrest didn't have to wait too long so I don't feel too terrible. This was my second time riding with him. We make our way up to the ridge. As we gain the summit I am able to peer down into Days Fork. There are some amazing zones back there.

The tour Forrest had planned doesn't really work out. Parker is on Snowshoes, which are slower than split boards, and I caused us to get a late start. We end up just messing around on a cornice and then traversing a ridge to hit another zone full of fun little airs and a good sized cliff. Right as we get there the clouds move in and we loose visibility. We decided to bag it and ride down to the car. Bummer. As we get to the car the clouds clear and it turns sunny again.... double bummer. The day was nonetheless awesome. Forrest showed me to some cool zones and told me about some others. I will definitely be back this way soon.

This is my new 31L Burton AK pack. I love it. It is nice having the extra space for my skins and all the other crap I drag into the backcountry.

Forrest looking down into Days Fork.

Parker up top with his crazy heavy pack. We need to get this guy a split board.

Splitting with Forrest

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.