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.

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.

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

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.

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.

Ryan, Teresa and I scrambed up the 3000-foot arette on the south side of Mt Superior.  It was a beautiful afternoon with a big view and enough exposure to make me move carefully. Ryan brought a rope and harnesses for he and Teresa- good thinking as the consequences of a fall would be severe. 

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.

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.

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.

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.