Utards in Canada: Mt Resplendant

07/05/2009

Half the group reloaded the ski rack and headed back to the Land of the Free, Home of the Whopper.

The rest of us headed to Brule, AB for a little R&R.

The value of college in Missoula right here folks.

0.7 from perfection.

You should see their mascot, eh?

After scrapping plans for a more committing traverse then scrapping plans for corn harvest in MT we chased a few days of high pressure to
Mt Robson and surrounding peaks.

a la “Welcome to Super, Natural British Columbia” sign just down the 16. What do you mean you forgot the ghost spray on the kitchen countertop?

Mt Robson 10,000 feet up from here. Resplendent only 8000’ away, but 20 miles to it’s skiable side.

Emperor facking Face

Luxurious beds also worked well for cooking and eating

Early start the next morning in hopes of skiing Resplendent. The weather above Robson was indecisively variable. Robson glacier in the foreground.

TEH GLOBAL WARMINGZ

Robson’s Kain face above Grant and Ryan. Looked super. Prior to departing I was outvoted in the “Well, I think we should bring crampons and a couple pickets just in case it seems good to go” debate. Ce la vie.

Mad yodel skillz

If you’re not trying to find a line through the icefalls to the Kain face, you’re not really paying attention.

Nothing says “I’m rad” like getting the shot with the whippet in it.

A foot of fluff on blue glacial ice on top of Resplendent

Taking a gander at the north face would have been cool but no one was interested in testing those cornices sitting on 2000’ of air.

Yes.

Through a crevassed area between icefalls. Don’t stop next to me, please.

The powder had apparently all blown to Saskatchewan. Good for ski mtneering though.

More dying glacier.

Resplendent in the background, 8 air miles away. Our route followed Robson Glacier behind Rearguard mountain then up the right horizon to the peak.

[QUOTE=The Gnarwhale;2382367]North Face on the left and Emperor Face on the right. Probably the scariest, proudest line I’ve ever seen.

Rule No 1: All photos taken within the Park must include Robson somewhere in the composition.

SPF Infinity

Wait, is that the pee bottle?

Whitehorn in the background.

Springtime meadow skippery off Mt Anne-Alice.

Huge exposure on either side of the ridge, though the ridgetop was so wide it was hard to believe it was there.

breakin the law

Wrapped up warm and tight, like a fat twinky for the grizzle bears

I skied to the summit gendarme on Mumm Pk then down perfect corn

…While Ricky and Dicky endorsed to the less popular “Sleep now, ski when you’re dead” mantra

Fresh tracks yes, but are they from a normal griz or one a them a super natural bears the signs warned about?

The view from the Hargreaves Shelter

Springtime in the Rockies?

Skating away on questionable ice after a warm, overcast night

Edge polisher

Took the interesting way home. The car is ~13 miles away just past Cinamon peak out there on the horizon.

Followed more fresh grizzle bear sign for a couple clicks down the trail. Heeeeeyyyyy Bear!

Twenty hours of driving later and we’re back in the land of plural marriage. Speaking of marriage, if any Canukistani citizens are looking to marry a Yank please send a PM. Thanks.

Utards in the Canukistani Rockies: Wapta

06/05/2009

PHASE I

Restless after a month of non-stop pow slaying, a handful of Park City’s seasonally-unemployed worker bees pointed rooftop ski racks north towards Canada.

Eager for the sporting adventures of a cold, shallow, and weak snowpack we booked accommodations in Alberta with the Alpine Cult of Canada

The victims were a mix of a few marginally skilled alpinists in with a handful of glacial-travel tenderfoots. Having ascended to Utah treetops using prussics and winched patio furniture around with minitraxions we were all on the same page, more or less.

Onward, to the Wapta Icefield Traverse

Food-stressing before even leaving the car, one team member began gnawing on a brick of Milk Dud. God help us all.

Peyto Lake. Surprisingly tricky to find, for a big ass lake.

Over the moraine and onto the glacier. And roped up to ease fears of being swallowed by the ice.

Mayhem as the choice bunk spots are snapped up. Spirits were high, with eight people and eight liters of wine and whiskey.

Apres ski runs with light packs down the glacier.

Leaving Peyto Hut.

Sheets of dumb stickers had inexplicably found their way onto the icefield. First appearing on compasses, lens hoods, and glasses cases they soon began to colonize unguarded research instruments as well.

Breezy on Vulture Col

…and down the far side

Arriving at Balfour Hut.

Headed towards Balfour High Col in the upper right

Roping up for crossing the crevassed glacier between icefalls just below the col. Our good visibility went to zip as we passed through the crux of the traverse but reappeared one hour and 5cm later.

One yellow jacket away from attaining ROYGBV on the BC/AB border

Ain’t nothing to see
Ain’t nothing in sight
Into the white
-Pixies

Inside the ping-pong ball

Scott Duncan hut is perched between cliff bands in the murk.

Blue sky between the convective storms allowed for laps behind the hut. Look closely and it’s visible at the base of the ridge.

North facing fun

Leaving the Duncan Hut, I was still pouting about not having takers for a dawn patrol lap up Daly.

The headwall above the Bath Glacier is seriously cool.

I suggested we stop to ski the 1000′ mini bowl but no takers. Tough crowd.

For the final 3000′ down to the car most of the group chose a talus walk to a nice steep field of corn.

The other option was longer, steeper but not the “fall-you-die” line someone asserted it was. More like “fall-you-cry”.

Sweartogod, if you stomp my bare feet with those boots while can-can’ing I will be seriously dismayed. But after nothing but whiskey and wine for four long days, this beer sure tastes good. Hurrah!

New Year’s Eve Tour

04/01/2009

Grant, Alex, Jolene, Jackie and I went on a ski tour in the Wasatch to send out the new year. Due to the precarious snowpack we chose a conservative route up Little Water Peak and an equally mellow ridgeline descent. We saw evidence of many avalanches and even stumbled upon the debris from a recent skier-triggered avalanche that buried a local skier. He was saved by a quick and well-rehearsed rescue by his ski partners. The site of the accident was remarkable in it’s mellowness- about 30 degrees in pitch at the start zone.

Sidecountry skiing at the Canyons

29/12/2008

One of the best arguments for owning a season pass to the Canyons is the easy access to the backcountry skiing along the Park City ridgeline. Here’s some photos from the first few weeks of “slackcounrty” skiing near the Canyons.

Wolverine Cirque 12/10

10/12/2008

Alex, Tyler and I shuffled up to Wolvarine Cirque today.

Canyons Sidecountry

09/12/2008

JP and I skied out to Dutch Draw and lapped the run called Owen’s Trees. The snow was wind-hammered along the ridgeline but the small gullies running down the draw were blown in nicely.

Election Day PowFest

06/11/2008

Davide and I spent the days after an epic Utah season kick-off hiking up and skiing down Snowbird, which hadn’t opened for the season. He took some awesome photos. All the photos are (c) Davide de Masi.

First Skiing of the Season

04/11/2008

It snowed a foot or so in the Wasatch the other night. I woke up early, grabbed my skis, boots and headed out to find somewhere deep enough to ski. The slope I found collects snow as it blows over a ridgeline and was just deep enough for early season skiing.

The aspens were beautiful before the sun hit them.

Surface hoar didnt waste any time forming after the snow fell

Zion: Das Boot, Kolob, and Imlay

20/10/2008

Adam, Kevin, Chris and I met outside of Virgin, UT with five days free to explore some of Utah’s most dramatic and difficult canyons. Adam laid out a game plan of beginning with Das Boot, a short technical canyon which is an alternate enterance to the popular Subway.

Das Boot from Toms Canyoneering Page — Das Boot from Tom's Canyoneering Page

The morning after finishing Das Boot we woke to watch alarms and scurried in the dark to gather frozen neoprene and frosty drysuits. We were hiking to Kolob canyon while it was dark enough to still need headlamps and by 8am we were tromping through snow and ice in Kolob Creek. The canyons is unique in Utah because its a wet canyon- water flows through it in all but the hottest days of July and August. We were concerned that ice in the canyon could make the descent treacherous, especially if there was ice around any of the many long drop offs. Slipping while reaching for a rap anchor would be no bueno.

It turned out that Kolob was mostly ice free, save for bits of snow here and there. As the guidebook suggested the water in Kolob is beautiful- it’s crystal clear and very cold. Rappelling down we could see the dark shapes of trout swimming deep in the potholes. Extreme fishing anyone?

It also turned out that our rental dry suits didn’t quite live up to their name. “Moist suit” seemed more appropriate.

Kolob can be done either as a 2-day descent with a bivy after the technical section or in one long day with serious uphill scramble out the “MIA exit.” We chose the day trip option and it took the four of us about 11 hours from car to car.

After two long days we took a rest day, rehydrating with a box of Franzia as we hiked around Zion’s touristy spots in flip flops and Crocs. The Virgin River has some great swimming holes and, unfortunately, very little privacy between the road on one side and hiking trails on the other. Undeterred, the four of us had a lovely afternoon dip in the cold, clean riffles. Onlookers shouted. One kid thew rocks. Some lady wolf-whistled. I’m pretty sure she was checking out Adam Steel. Who from hereon will be referred to as Steel Rammington (S.R.)

The next morning we packed our (mostly dry) drysuits, sleeping bags, stove, and a minimum of excess stuff and hiked up the myriad switchbacks ascending from the Gorotto at Zion. Past angels landing and up another +2000 feet. In the end we hiked 4000-something vert over nine miles in four hours with 30lb packs. It was great to be able to truck along with a bunch of professional backpackers!
By mid-afternoon we’d found the first rappel of Imlay Canyon. Imlay’s something of a big name in canyoneering circles (though I’m not convinced such things exists). Tom’s says this: “Heaps and Imlay are unlike other canyons in Zion, and deserve their own introduction. Deeply incised into the stone, Heaps and Imlay have a character that is both sublime and perilous. Sublime because the dark hallways, carved stone and subterranean pools offer an experience only hinted at in other canyons; perilous because what accompanies these beauties are continual exposure to water, difficult pothole exits and a degree of strenuousity one giant leap greater than other Zion canyons”

So down we went. At some of the anchors we were akwardly stacked hip to hip, hanging from harnesses, with big packs, and a long way off the deck. I couldnt help but think of those stories of American Death Triangle anchors where a team of climbers would suddenly vanish off a big Yosemite wall. Ugh.

The last of a series of raps down a face

We hiked, rapeled, hiked rapelled, and hiked until twilight when we found a beautiful slickrock bench above the canyon floor enough to sleep soundly without nightmares of flash floods. After dinner when I noticed a little scorpion scurring under the stove bag I did become curious. Several mintues later when I saw that first one’s big brother scurry under my pile of clothes I became a bit more nervous. I shook out my sleeping bag very well that night. And remembered to check my shoes and every other article of clothing in the morning. Turns out the ones I saw are called “wind scorpions” and dont sting but do have a nasty bite. Looked like this guy:

The next morning we were up before the sun for a hot and hearty ramen breakfast. Only a few steps into the slot and we were scrambling over frosted tree trunks and into murky desert water. The raps were all bolted and we descended deeper and deeper through Imlay. We scrutinized the map several times hoping to figure out where we were, but were only sure once, at the Crossroads. Some potholes were 70% wood debris and reminded me of the trash compactor scene in Star Wars.

Finally we emerged at the end of the Imlay canyon- a ledge 150 feet above the Virgin River. One last, long, free-hanging rappel and we were rinsing off the sand in the river.

Canyoneering in the San Rafael Swell

28/08/2008

Adam Steel and I drove from Colorado to central Utah, home of the San Rafael Swell. We had a couple different sets of route information for the canyons we did, but Kelsey’s book really took the cake in terms of style points. The guy goes down deep, scary canyons in a freakin’ cowboy hat and jean shorts. He also writes in third person, capitalizes and bolds random words, advocates chipping holds to climb sandstone and other faux pas. So the captions from here on are stylized to his impecible standards.