Dwindling Dawn Patrols

I am trying to mentally prepare for the end of the season as winter sputters out these last few storms before giving up. Am I ready for summer? Almost. I have a few more goals for this season, but I have already dusted off the bike and am building my climbing hit list.

David and I met in the parking lot and took an easy stroll up Grizzly Gulch. We watched the sun paint the ridges as we walked and talked about the season and how good it was to just be out. "Just being out" is a phrase that we tend to use as an excuse for a day with less than adequate snow or conditions. In all actuality "just being out" is the real blessing of where we live and our circumstances. There are days that I forget how lucky I am to just be out. 

On any given day in the Wasatch there are at most a few hundred of us out in the backcountry. We are such a small percent of the population. Our days start in the dark, we meet up with friends and are on top of mountains before the majority of the valley's alarms are going off. We are a lucky few and are privy to some of the best things Utah has to offer. As David and I walked and talked I couldn't help but be sad that winter is coming to a close, but I also felt so grateful to be where I was in that moment. Utah is rad.  

Photo Credit: David Kaplan

Photo Credit: David Kaplan

Overnight at Emerald Lake

 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.

 

Home sweet home.

This place always makes me feel small.

White to green.

Cascade Peak

 

I think my days of getting out this early are done for the season... the only thing that will get me back on my splitboard is a camping trip or another crack at the Grunge Couloir.

For some reason I didn't hear my alarm but I heard the single "beep" of Jeremy's text telling me he was at my front door. I bolted to get ready grabbing my gear as I ran to the door. 3:30 a.m. is something you can't get used to. We met Ryan Dittmar at the mouth of Provo Canyon and headed for Squaw Peak. The dirt road that goes from Squaw to the Rock Canyon Campground was just opened so we drove as far as we could before getting to the snow that blocked the road. We got out, put on our crampons and went straight up the west face of Cascade. 

Today was all about the ascent, we knew the snow wasn't going to be that good. If we had more time we could have dropped into the east face for some good corn, but we rode down "Pole Chute" instead. The snow was pretty beat but the zone was amazing. The west face is a scary place for the majority of the season. There are only long narrow chutes down the face, most of which cliff out at some point. The mountain is almost a perfect storm for avalanches, there is no escape and all these awesome chutes can funnel everything down on you. I hope one day I can catch perfect conditions and ride these in perfect snow...

Still, there is nothing like walking a ridgeline. It will never get old. Ever.

 

 

 Cascade Peak

 Provo Peak