God Save the Pow
Word to the George…could be a new shirt on the way.
Old Man’s in July
Snapped a quick photo on a hike into the Gore the other day. The old man still has a good sized chunk of snow hanging tough in the 80 degree summer heat. A far cry from the towering wall of snow in March…but impressive in it’s staying power nonetheless. A reminder of a great season and hopefully of what’s to come.
Ken’s Cabin Hut Trip Report
This is a guest blog by EVI friend Big J from a Hut Trip to Ken’s Cabin…
It started early that Monday April morning as we prepared to leave the island and drive over Vail Pass in aim for Breckenridge and the Boreas Pass area. I had purchased all the food, alcohol, and everything the day or two before and had it all split up and packed away in my 2 backpacks for the journey. I picked up my friend Arty for his first hut trip and he quickly threw his skis in the truck and put his avy gear and personal supplies in the big pack that I loaned him. It was already packed with survival staples such as sleeping bag, clean pillow case, beers, bacon, hand sanitizer, peanut butter M&M’s, mole skin, extra headphones, and a deck of uno cards. He was cherry popping excited as he fondled through all the supplies and goodies, not yet fully grasping the thought of hauling all this nearly 7 miles up up a long slog of a mountain road to the Continental Divide.
I was excited to get the hell out of dodge for a couple days and put the March madness of big crowds and big attitudes behind me in my rear view mirror. As I smiled in the rising sun of excitement, I could see out of the corner of my eye as Arty looked up and back towards East Vail and the chutes like a sad dog that left his best bone buried in the back corner of the yard, which was also covered with a fresh 9 inch report. I assured him no fear with the reggae satellite channel, The Joint, blaring no worry as I told him how we were going into the wide open for self propelled, self sufficient, self indulgent moments of joytime kicks and aesthetic grandeur. He rolled his eyes still wondering if we should of tried to sneak in a powder lap then hit the road.
It was a great start up the trail under big sunshine, skinning through fresh sparkle filled crystal covered tracks and rich blue skies. We saw a couple people snowshoeing and one guy cross country skiing during the first couple miles. They all seem to be carrying big smiles and big ladles so they could scoop out and drink up all that clear Colorado spring beauty after such a long heavy winter. The views were awe-inspiring as we shifted from dramatic overlooks of Breck like they were shooting the commercials to the forward focus of the towering peaks ahead. With that and all the good beats coming from the headphones it was easy at first to forget about the 35lb midget on your back. That was until the sticky icky started to invade my climbing skins. I hadn’t got the fresh coat of the purple spring glob stopper wax on yet, like I had planned. I searched through my repair kit and the rest of my pack to no avail and was left to pay some sort of karmic toll tax the last 3 miles of the trek. Drying em out a bit and scraping em clean with a credit card would offer a few moments of slowed and hushed profanity. Otherwise I had to grin and bear it with no glide and a huge ball and chain penalty. Arty seemed to fare a bit better with the glop karma so he paraded ahead a bit. After the four hour haul the road turned to reveal our homey cabin at the top of the pass. It sat next to an old house, the Section House, that was used to house the railroad workers back in the day. The snow covered the cabin’s outdoor walls and windows up to the metal roof and made us feel as if we were climbing down into a dark cave as we entered out of the blinding intense sunlight.
After a bag of cashews and jerky and a couple pitchers of grape gatorade we were shaking off sore shoulders and dismissing the poor application of sunscreen. We began to unpack and sort out some of the goods trying to keep the meals portioned and organized and chilled. We got the wood bins filled, the fire started and stoked, and more snow to melt for water. The art of hut tripping is found in the balances. The balance of chores and kicking back, the balance of carrying it all and consuming it all, the balance of rationing and gluttony, the balance of the big things and the little things, the balance of the up and the down. By this time we were as rested as we were gonna get, so we headed up for an early evening skin before happy hour.
I had found my glob stopper in the first place I had checked for it, so my skins were like new and improved as they cut through the late day spring whip cream with no drag or penalty. We climbed an hour or so kind of north and west above the cabin, where we spotted some areas across the pass to shoot for the next day. Hung out on the rocks a bit working on the goggle tan and finishing that great grape snow melt gatorade. We skied down making lovely poetic haiku turns in the warm creamy snow smiling through sun hats and shades like a monk with his robe wide open in his perfected zen garden.
At the road we pushed back up another 10 minutes back to the cabin. We cracked the first beers in celebration of a great day in a great place. That beer tastes so good on a high mountain pass with a feathery breeze as you watch the sun begin to paint the increasing clouds as it drops to the west. Just the mini speaker spouting some Neil Young through the cabin door, we set in the section of dry grass and all feels right with the world as the sun sets and the purples and pinks smear the sky with the colors of warm goodness. Arty puffs on a nice Black n Mild cigar as I run in to mix a drink. (one can’t afford to carry just all heavy beer – but it is essential to start every evening with a couple on the continental divide’s stone beer garden patio of wonder.) I come running back out to catch the sky’s finale with cigar in mouth and two fresh vodka lemonades in coffee cups with roof ice and real wedges of lemon and lime. Arty laughs in a loud cheer and delight in approval of the drinks, cabin life, and the simple pleasures. Happy hour stretches and blurs into dinner time as I prepare my hut staple value meal plan #1 of pulled pork bbq sandwiches on bagel thins with bag o caesar salad and full size snickers bars. We escape the fiery wood stove wrath by stepping out for a final smoke and nightcap of crown royal shots under the stars.
We awake late after a hard 10 hour hibernation the next morning. With door open we notice the local neighbor couple from Breck in the section house that arrived after dark were already heading out. I hadn’t even did any light reading in the outhouse or cleared the pile of lemon and lime wedges from my coffee cup yet. The day got going slowly with lots of coffee, a whole package of peppered bacon, and some bagels and cream cheese. After breakfast dishes and some re-supply of wood and snow melt we headed out for the day. I broke trail first and then Arty led the boot hike up from there. It felt kind of good to hike since it had been a while since I had scrambled any real distance in a while (Although I am a much bigger fan of skinning than boot packing).
We got to the first peak and it helped put our lofty goals in more perspective as the direction we planned on going was null of snow and hidden from yesterday’s view. Instead of down climbing we chose to re-route and ski some lightly defrosted corn under the mostly cloudy skies. We skied down to the last saddle and traversed around the skirts of the peak we just hiked up. Here we found more wind affected colder snow and a couple cross loaded traverse sections we tried to stay high to avoid a little sketchiness. After the traverse we transitioned over for a few minutes of skinning up to reach the upper bench in order be able to drop over into the next cirque to the southwest. That snow was more sheltered in the big trees and was more soft but thick, resulting in a few good wavy slash turns through the woods and out into the open. By this time we could see our new re-established goal after a couple hours of route finding and rearranging. We skinned another 45 minutes up a long ridge to a big corniced area. Only person we saw was a solo snowmobiler getting after it a bowl over to our left. It felt great and satisfying to be up top on a face we looked at from way afar yesterday with more of a wish than anything.
The face was kind of gnarly with a couple obvious avalanche paths spread between three separate semi consolidated ribbons of trees that seem to provide some islands of safety. We kicked at the cornice and Arty sawed a good chunk off and dropped it on the skier’s right section. Nothing moved or showed any energy at the top but we still had a lot of concern about the convex roll 50 yards down that was puffed up and cross loaded. Neither of us felt good about it so we moved over the ridge a bit and avoided that section and skirted the cornice drop. Arty’s first turns showed me the hardness and crustiness that awaited me on that initial steepness. After Arty reached a safe spot in the ribbon of trees, I dropped into that funky monkey surface party and laid down a couple ugly and sluggish survival turns past his safe spot. We leapfrogged each other in the few trees that were around and generally chest bumped the man crust as strong as we could blowing out on to the gentler machine gun apron and down to the soft serve gully. Not the best blower quality turns but what a rush and kick in the pants.
After a nice long power break of dried fruit and slim jims we donned the headphones, drank the last of the water, and headed up a couple mile skin back up to Boreas Pass Road and then another 40 minutes back up to the deserted cabin and section house. It had been an almost 7 hour day of gettin after it on all kinds of conditions. The full circle route of sort was so rewarding as we stood around the cabin during apres with victory cigars and cold drinks. Seeing where we went towards making it happen and keeping it real with nothing but ashes and tracks. You could see it in Arty’s sun burnt face, that he had seen the light of a good hut trip and was going to come back a new kind of mountain man. We refueled that night on the b team dinner of chicken noodle soup with saltines, mashed potatoes with cheese and bacon crumbles, and summer sausage sandwiches with mayo. (Remember it all shines in the fine details of quality extras and condiments.) We recycled the last of the beer cans and the plastic vodka bottle after the dishes were done. The night was waved in by some steezy John Scofield jazz and a hearty desert of chocolate, crown royal, and the sleeping pill of one’s choice.
The next day was greeted by another amazing sleep in. Don’t doubt the power comfort of a good buzz and Ken’s Cabin when the snow covers the windows. We hustled through the morning shuffle of bacon, bagels, and coffee in order to get the cabin swept out, restocked and wiped clean before exit. However, before pushing off that 6 2/3 mile downhill we had to go up for one more. You gotta get up to get down. We skinned and boot packed almost an hour directly above the cabin for one more shot at a nice thick snow ribbon off the wind charred divide. We rested for a short bit looking out above the cabin and all of Breckenridge. What a great couple days to leave the rat race all behind for simple pleasures, good travels, and great views. It was a nice shot for some soul skiing that was firm at top and softer and chewy at the bottom. With a quick power break to re-load our stuff we stashed in the wood shed, we were off under a darkening cloudy sky that was calling us back west. The road turned to a nice crusty snow cone that enabled us to cruise out at a good glide where you can push you’re extended poles along and just let your mind wander, and sit back and enjoy the ride.
Cheers and hope everyone has gotten a few chances to lean back enjoy the ride this year.
A-Basin Trip Report…Shit for Brains
Hey All –
The EV season may be over, but all of us pow addicts know that the second season is in full swing and has potential to be one of the great spring seasons in recent history. DPS Dave, Brent the Lawyer, and yours truly took a trip over to A-Basin the Tuesday after Vail’s closing on a blustery three inch day and mulled over the endless options of terrain. Although the wind was up in the alpine, we after some discussion, decided that Shit For Brains, the promenent west facing couloir in the arena east of the A-bay was in play. No naturals observed in the area and moderate amount of new snow gave us the window we were looking for.
Dave and Brent had never skied it and I was looking for redemption after a starfish incident last year, too horrible to describe here (I’ll blame the wind jacked snow). We decided to climb the route instead of taking the ridge, allowing us to assess the snow on the way up, staying true to the mantra climb what you ski, especially in big terrian you are unfamiliar with.
The skin from the CDOT barn was smooth sailing, steep but relatively short. We actually were able to skin into the mouth of the chute and proceeded to strap em on the back for the rest of the way, staging under a large rock fin on the right side of the chute.
Shit For Brains is a great funnel for prevailing westerly winds, and with the wind transport of new snow it was literaly snowing uphill around forty miles an hour for the entire couple hour hike, managing to get snow underneath every layer of my clothing.
Conditions were amazingly varied from pockets of windscour to two feet of soft wind whipped snow. We definitley had our work cut out for us as we were kicking steps into the fresh and having to use poles as cross braces to pull ourselves up, exhausting and arduous work.Watching Dave kick steps, scramble up a couple feet only to slide back down was painfully comical, and the formula for ascent was ten steps, rest, ten step rest, whimper.
The chute is pretty damn steep, and in low snow years can be rocky and only a couple ski width wide with in certain sections. With the abundant snow this year, the chokes were filled nicely, but the deep wind load made the snow catchy and thick.
After forever we got to the mouth of the dammed thing and considered our future. There would be no sending, but controlled steep skiing as the conditions changed from turn to turn, having sluff build and letting it run through, watching for movement, rocks and other hazards. We leaped frogged each other for the first 500 vertical feet or so and then after no avi problems one by one skied the rest of it. I was the last one down, and the momnets I had alone in the coulior were the reason I came back.
Wind howling, stuffed between jagged vertical rock walls and the amazing vertical, craggy terrain of the surrounding area made it asthetically one of the most appealing descents of the year. I love the high alpine feel of the area and this particular chute provides it spades. My descent was deliberate and fun, roiling sluff and rolling over, it was a true test of endurance and variable condition skiing. Legs burning, I met up with the crew in the flats by the trees. We all stayed for a moment to look up the run, then were off to the chilling beer at Brent’s car at the A-bay parking lot.
4/15/11 report
Hey all,
The reports of EV demise are greatly exaggerated. Skied the old mans again yesterday, continuing the spring old mans addiction and found winter like snow conditions with the three or four inches of fresh snow. Continuing to keep the notch viable with the saw for those who dare venture into old mans. The cornice continues to grow, a bulging overhung mass that now looms over the entire bowl. I’m sure there is a formula for the energy released by this death star sized snow load if it fell, something I’d love to see (from a significant distance). The drop in in requires putting that image out of your mind and railing it.
The end of the poma is my favorite time of year for EV. Traffic slows to a crawl, reminiscent of ten years ago, when you could count the number of tracks on one hand in Benchie and Old Mans. Conditions are the best I’ve ever seen for this time of year. An EV with winter snow and not one bare spot on April 15 is something that hasn’t happened since I’ve started skiing back out in EV. I’m truly an old fart so that’s saying something.
If your willing to skin a little longer, the reward is worth it. Peace.
3/25/11 El Terrible tree chute report
Hey late season EV schralpers,
Windy days in the Gore and EV the last few days with the storms that have rolled through. Went into the Bighorn drainage last week Tuesday to battle the isothermic snowpack held together with a top four inch crust layer. The warm weather the previous week resulted in water percolating through the snowpack in lower elevations, creating large loose facets in all aspects at lower elevations.
Big J and I went up the Bighorn ridge on a gale force day to explore more tree chutes, skinning up the south facing punchy melt freeze crust before dawn. The ridge lines were howling, the creaking of the lodgepole pines were a creepy reminder of the downfall potential in beetle kill forests in high winds. There were many recent downed soldiers, branches sticking out of the snow.
We skinned up to the farthest tree chute, our drop in really an educated guess in the thick trees. We dropped in and wove our way though the steep trees to the entrance of the gully and the increasing wind. Looking down the path, it look loaded. I decided to cut the left flank of the gully, over to a treed ridge. Passing John with a little pace, I expected a firm surface covered with the slabby six to eight inches. What I got was a sinking, submarining trip to the bottom of the snowpack about three feet down. I sunk backwards and ended up with one ski pinned underneath a rock I uncovered, falling backward onto the 40 degree slope. My efforts to release my binding were met with more sinking and twisting with no binding release. My knee was popping and slowly twisting out of place.
I was in a bad spot, and had no other option but to have John come down and help me out of my stubborn Duke. Not ideal, but a better option than skiing down with a dislocated knee, broken leg. The Gore had me whimpering, and showed me who boss. Thanks to Big J for saving my leg. I took a moment assessed the leg and continued on down skiers left flank of the gully. We quickly realized the gully was not an option. Every turn rolling into the side of the gully was met with instant slab release into it. The sixty mile an hour winds had done their job. We cautiously leap frogged down the ridge, skiing on alternating wind scour and boot deep slabby softness, watching it all peel at the slightest touch.
There were four slab peels that qualified as avalanches, the last one 500 feet above the deck was the largest, set off as I skied around a tree band. It propagated to a foot deep and a hundred feet wide. It started to suck me with it towards the last stand the trees. I was able to ski off it at a 45 degree angle, off to the side and watch it plow through the tree stand billowing and hitting trees with an audible whoomph sound. Impressive to say the least.
We named the chute El Terrible (tuh-ree-blay).
A humbling, sketchy, slightly painful run in the Gore. Wouldn’t have it any other way.
Long Road Ahead…
…gotta work to get the goods.
Carl’s Cabin Trip Report
I gathered with my group at the Yeoman Park trailhead around 8:30 on Monday, March 7th for our hut trip to Carl’s Cabin. It is a beautiful wood hut six miles up in a great area below New York Mountain, near the Polar Star Inn. It may not offer the sweeping big mountain views of some of the other 10th Mtn Huts but it has this warm , tucked in Whitman and Thoreau transcedental glow to the snow loaded heathy pine and spruce forest that just whispers wilderness wonder.
The group casually gathered packs, food, and beer under a bright blue Colorado sky with chuckles and high fives of anticipation. We threw all the big packs, food, beer, and whiskey in the sleds and enjoyed a nice sunny skin up. It was just a short couple miles before the sleds returned from dropping the bounty and half the group right at the hut. With a quick tow we were all styling on that first sip of beer well before noon. I often have mixed feelings on snowmobiles (mainly cause I don’t have one) but it is a great feeling to ski some fresh up hill at over 30mph and Apres is so much better supplied by the 2 stroke.
The weather clouded over as we headed out for the afternoon tour. (Another advantage of the sleds – a fresh feeling afternoon tour.) We climbed through some big old growth up to the ridge above treeline. We could see the storms building to the west as we searched around the cornices to recon for any big routes for Tuesday.
Nothing looked too clear or appetizing enough even after traversing up and around more southwest, especially as new snow clouded visibility. Saw more big rock and overhanging cornice, but it did offer some cool views above the town of Fulford. A whole winter locked up in a cabin there I could become a mad backcountry skier or maybe just a crazy mad man. As evening approached we picked our way through the scree collecting the occasional scratch and core shot through the fresh few inches from Sunday night. As we hit treeline we began to sample some good north facing softness and tree shots as we skied back to the cabin. The snow picked up and dumped super hard for the last hour of the day, before parting for a nice show by Orion and the bottom crescent moon.
After a great dinner and all night apres we woke casually late to more snow and multiple imititations of my sleep apnea. (Which did upgrade me to an upstairs private suite for night 2). After coffee, pancakes, and fine bacon our group was off and breaking fresh trail up through the woods and above treeline. The snow was falling straight down with little wind in that serenity now pattern. The skiing was fabulous as we saw no ther groups that day as we skied lap after lap of big open north facing trees with a foot of deep fluffy face shot snow that you can taste the sweetnes of when you lick your lips. Took a late 4:20 lunch of Newcastles, salami, and Buffalo Pastrami sandwiches before setting out for a twilight rally of goodness. The last lap was in the early edge of darkness where your throwing white powder at the dark shadows, hitting the hole and just touching the deep soul of what moves you in these mountains. I can’t say enough how nice it is to get away from work and the resort grind to be in a great place with good friiends, good snow and good vibes.
We ended the day with our fourth pork product and the last of all the bourbon and scotch. The morning was filled with hasty cleaning and a final fast lap for one more fix of that fluff. Another great run down through more of an open zone, ending at a couple empty yurts. We gathered the last of our stuff, shouldered our heavy packs (as the haul sled had already left) and had a nice sunny 6+ mile ski down. What a great trip. There is something about a hut with snow rising up the windows, wood stove cranking, and all your buddies laughing in delight. Go out and get some!
Bighhorn report
Hey people,
Just want to report on our excursion to bighorn on Tuesday. Big J and I went up up the bighorn ridge to tree line on a perfect blue sky early spring day.
We passed all the skin tracks and went to the top of the ridge and were rewarded with an awesome view of the gore and found ourselves on top of a large avie path.
After taking in the view, we decided to dig a representative pit on a due W aspect at 35degrees. We had time so I decided to dig a 180 cm pit. We found a 245 cm deep snow pack at 11,900.
Examining the pack we found no obvious lenses or crusts, with the density going from fist density to four finger all the way down, changing from 2mm stellars to 2mm rounds at 155 cm. On our compression test we found ctm 22 with a Q1 shear at 155 cm. The new fluff was reactive on the old storm snow, making sluff a concern.
Continuing our pit we found a CT25 with a Q2 shear at 100cm. Uneven shearing and little pop made us wonder if our column was at fault, so we tested it again and found similar results. Moderate stability and a right side up snow pack gave us confidence to keep exploring.
For the final test, we did an AK block, a reuchblock with out the back cut. This is a test created an promoted by Bill Glude an renowned avalanche forecaster, heliguide and avalanche guru from Juneau AK. After testing the block, and getting a RB 7, basically a no failure result, we decided to drop in.
The skiing was phenomenal up top. John and I leapfrogged each other staying closed to the treed edge, skiing to the choke. A traverse around the choke led us to some route finding and we ended skiing out farther skiers right, up the valley.
The terrain we were able to see and scout was alpine, rocky and steep, with the possibilities endless for exploration. Check out the photos. The Gore is the real deal, steep exposed and isolated. It deserves respect and caution. A great day all around.
Friends…
East Vail Institute 
