Kootenay ColdSmoke Powder Fest 09 from ARC’TERYX on Vimeo.

The heat spiked at some point Thursday afternoon. By the evening a threatening bank of clouds cruised across the Olympics on a stiff wind. The rain never came, but the strong gusts of wind rattled the trees and carried cooler temperatures through the rain. A nice reprieve, a little reminder that we weren’t in the dog days yet. It was a welcome relief, like viewing a deep powder shot deep in the real dog days of summer.

Chris Barchet gets deep in the Valhallas. Aaaaaahhhhhhh...

(Graham’s POV on the last day with the VholdR helmetcam.)

The pace was a little slower, more deliberate, lapping Ruby and Emerald Glades into the afternoon, savoring the turns knowing it might be a while before skiing powder this good again. Some people worked toward the goal of 40,000 feet for the week; others found that last perfect turn to call it a day and relax into the evening.

Powder turns right to the sauna.

The heavy snow finally started to clear, perfectly preserving our last tracks right down to the lodge’s porch. The scotch came out that evening, as did the cribbage, cards, and guitars. There was nothing left to do but relax and revel in the good turns made.

Fredd, Marta, Lulu and Dede with the hut singalong.

In the quiet over Sunday’s breakfast, you could see each person’s mind racing… trying to figure out how stay, when to come back, anything to keep the skiing going. The sun shone brightly, looking deceptive warm. The cat loaded up, a couple people bundled up to cruise out the cat road to the cars, shimmering snow fading with the lost elevation. A week gone by in a heartbeat, perhaps a countdown begun for the return.

Dawn on Sunday

Fredd, Marta, and Tobin ready to rock.

At 8am, the temperature hovered around 5F, and brilliant crystals of powder shimmering and swishing past our skis as we glided down the cat road to another drainage entrance. With gorgeous weather, Evan planned to take the group up into the alpine of Shannon Lake drainage, the shining jewel of VMT’s terrain. After a long traverse and gradual climb through chilly shaded woods, we finally burst out into the sunshine on Shannon Lake.

Snack break in the sun on Shannon Lake.

The lake is spectacular, setting at the base of an enormous series of bowls and towering peaks. The high alpine above tempted us with runs to come, and we soaked it all in during a short break. After the snack, Evan laid down the gauntlet, challenging Charlie to set a perfectly straight skintrack across the lake. It’s a difficult task over the distance, with big benches up high to judge from.

Charlie leads the group out on what Evan called the "3rd straightest skintrack" he'd seen.

With all of the recent snowfall and some building winds, we climbed into the alpine through Shannon Glades, then slowly started to work our way up the undulations of the alpine. One at a time in many spots, the climbing slowed as the wind drove colder than the sun’s rays. The turnaround up high was short, everyone ready to ski after a couple hours on skins.

Lulu climbs up the next pitch, long shadows starting to stretch.

Nothing steep or crazy, just mellow alpine powder with an incredible scene laid out below. The winds gave perfect texture to boot top powder that hung light and dry in the air.

Evan leads out the first line.

One run, another climb, another run, rolling pitches extending endlessly through the alpine, then steepening into the trees, and ending with a slope of pillows out onto the lake.

First tracks down yet another great run.

Smiles plastered big on our faces, we put the skins back on, rejuvenated by the sun and warmth on the lake. With the shadows moving in up high and the winds picking up, two laps up high would be all. But with a skintrack already broken up Shannon Glades, we still had a little time to eek out a few quick laps before losing the daylight.

Charlie, ready for more skiing.

Lulu and Dede about to top out up high.

Back up we went, and eventually the lower alpine turns above Shannon Glades tempted us as well. The extra shot was worth it, and we kept the transitions fast to get in the extra turns. A few die-hards dashed back up for one more lap, while the rest of us enjoyed a leisurely skin back across Shannon Lake as daylight slowly slid away.

Fredd crosses back over Shannon Lake in the late light.

A short skin above the lake put us directly above a final thousand feet of bonus turns through the trees to the cat road. Tired and thoroughly chilled, a quick sled hitch from Dale zipped us right up to the lodge for hot soup and spring rolls. With another solid day under us – 35,000 ft on the week so far – it looked like the final day would bring one more storm session… just more powder to push on for.

(Charlie’s POV on the VholdR helmet cam in the Shannon Lake drainage)

“Thanksgiving” – as we came to call it – started the way all skiers dream, with huge soft flakes pouring from the sky, dulling the daylight coming through the windows. We’d been getting regular evening storms to refresh the snow overnight, a few inches here and there, but it had dumped the night before.  Evan confirmed how sweet the news was over breakfast – 20 inches of new snow, and the temperature hovering around 5F. Blower.

The storm still pounding hard, sign of a good day to come.

From the start, it was clear that it would be a big day. On the skintrack up, the snow quickly piled up on our shoulders as we climbed. It was a day to pack an extra jacket, more gloves, anything you needed to stay out longer. Evan’s dog Benny waded out in front on the skintrack, plowing through up to his chest. Each step of the skis whomphed a little cloud of light powder around you. Expectations were high, and the first run did not let us down.

Charlie blows by in a trail of cold smoke.

We were all stunned after the first run. First and second turn faceshots soon turned into the full white room. The wispy trails of snow obscured anyone watched from above, just a winding worm of snow hanging in the air. The excitement was on, and the only question left was how much could we ski? Tired legs were forgotten as we pushed lap after lap through the trees, ramping up the vert, craving more powder. There wasn’t much to say about each runs… I’ll let the photos and video tell the story:

Evan earning a guide's perks.

Lulu finds the white room as the group watches above.

Another faceshot for Chris.

Post-run evidence of good turns.

Charlie needing a snorkel.

(Charlie carried the VholdR helmet cam all day on Thursday, and caught some good faceshots and follow cam with it.)

Eventually a few people ran out of legs, and the rest ran out of daylight. Evan picked up the pace to squeeze out the last runs, dropping the hammer on the pack. Worn out and weary, we made it back to the lodge with dusk all around us, the hard-chargers earning a respectable 8,000 feet on the day. The collective of die-hard skiers declared it easily all-time, and we reveled in the turns all night.

Thankful for great turns, thankful for Annie's feast.

The “Thanksgiving” declaration stuck on Deep Thursday, particularly with the feast that Annie had prepared (while still getting out for turns with us) – whole turkey, mashed potatoes, squash, gravy… the traditional November holiday fare. The food went straight to replenish exhausted muscles, and that night we all slept soundly on dreams of deep powder.

Looking over at the previous day's Three Doors and upcoming Shannon Lake drainages, shrouded in clouds.

We climbed through familiar terrain, but this time kept gaining the ridgeline to Ruby Peak. Spread out on the horizon through shrouded clouds, we caught glimpses of the runs from the day before, and the tantalizing alpine areas of the Shannon Lake drainage – VMT’s prized terrain. With a break in the clouds, we finally got our bearings on the surroundings, piecing together everywhere we’d skied so far, and making mental notes and tick lists of other terrain.

Chris, Evan, and Ross on the ridge for the second run.

The first run off Ruby could not have been smoother, quickly opening up ridgeline turns into sweeping powder arcs down the bowl. The turns kept coming, finally easing into an evergreen GS that dropped us down on a low logging road. From that point, Evan surveyed the group, and the proposal to explore and check out the Shroom Room met with a resounding yes. We worked our way around the basin, back up a new ridge, and dropped into another line of deep powder and scattered pillows.

Marta gets after some BC fresh.

We bounced down small pillows, little bumps scattered everywhere, when Evan led us through a stand of trees. Opening up below, a few bigger pillows prompted Kodak courage. Everyone pushed themselves a little bigger, with little to fear from soft landings, and Chris and Steven obliged with front flips off the biggest drop. The game had been stepped up, and halfway down Evan pointed over to the next line, a boulder field covered in several meters of snow just waiting for tracks.

Elizabeth heading up for a run through the Shroom Room. Note Ross prepping the giant bad idea in the background.

We’d found the Evan’s secret spot, the Shroom Room, and the conditions couldn’t have been better. The sun finally burst through, and even the normally-ground-bound were ready to play. Good natured ribbing popped up on the skintrack, goading our tail guide Ross into prepping a transition on the biggest boulder we could find.

Karhu's Charlie Lozner bounding down the pillow lines.

The first run through the pillows was surreal, a dream sequence of bouncing from drop to drop down the line. The giant bad idea couldn’t have turned out more fun, with three attempts at showboating that ended with great entertainment – a misty 540 that lost a ski, a 20′ bellyflop, and half a backflip. The size of the zone held lines for everyone, and half the group quickly lapped back up for more while others relaxed in the sunshine waiting for the next show.

(POV video from me and Charlie, down Ruby and into the first run on the Shroom Room, shot with the VholdR helmetcam.)

Eventually the sun dipped lower again, and we began the climb back out of the basin. We could see clouds appearing on the horizon, and knew that the rumored storms were inbound.

Annie climbing back up Ruby Peak as the day gets late.

Graying skies turned tinges of color on the climb back out, but the open slope behind us held too strong a temptation for the group. The exhausted skied back down Ruby to the hut, getting a head start on the sauna, while a handful of us stayed out for an extra lap before we lost the daylight. By the time we finally hit the lodge, we’d achieved new high points in skiing satisfaction, unaware that those levels might be shattered again the next day.

Dede squeezes in one more run off Ruby Peak for the camera before heading home.

Up a new drainage with blue skies and beautiful snow.

A long, gradual climb brought us up to the base of Three Doors, a chuted section of steeps broken by trees and pillow lines. The lines looked tempting above, but before getting ahead of ourselves, we stopped to assess the lurking danger from the high pressure that preceded the recent storms. Evan and tail guide Ross dug a pit while we observed, seeing a clean shear of the most recent snow on buried surface hoar.

Evan and Ross evaluate the snowpack in Three Doors.

With the pit results in mind, Evan kept our lines conservative for the day, keeping us on terrain that had been skied hard during the high pressure and the week since, cutting up some of the surface hoar. Up and onward we went, breaking out into thin trees and finding a scenic transition spot on a perfect bench at the base of the alpine.

Hitting the bench under Caribou Ridge for a snack and transition to the first run.

The first run was like a dream… with the helmet cam rolling, I chased Evan and his dog Benny through a couple pitches of widely-spaced trees before dropping through the open chutes of Three Doors. Just when the powder smiles couldn’t get much wider, Evan led us on a short traverse through a thick stand of trees that opened up over a gleaming field of pillows. With cameras and audience at hand in the ampitheater, everyone searched out a little adrenaline to cap it all off.

(POV footage of my first and second runs, shot on the VholdR helmetcam.)

At the bottom, we ran into VMT owner Dale Caton and our cook, Annie, out for some mid-day runs. With them on the group, we made short work of the skin track lapping back up for more. Cloud cover starting sneaking back in, keeping the untracked snow creamy smooth. Fast and supportive, a quick slash of the tails was all it took to throw up deep powder and snag a faceshot.

Marta cranks into the first turn in Three Doors.

Jason arcs out one of the Doors, powder S-ing over Benny's dotted track.

After 3 laps, it was time to work our way back out of the drainage. A fun lower section gave way to the long traverse, finally dumping us back at the cat road below the hut. With tired legs and hot apps waiting back at the lodge, everyone smiled a little at Evan’s belief that “you shouldn’t end the day climbing,” as he and Dale gave us a quick snowmobile tow back up the road. Not a bad way to cap it all off.

VMT – Day 1

With a roller coaster early season in the Pacific Northwest, no one hesitated when the trip came up. The fastest response was emailed back in a matter of seconds, and in no time flat we had a dedicated group of 11 committed to the trip. Traveling from Seattle, Ventura, San Francisco, Jackson, and Portsmouth, the group gathered in Nelson, BC the night before heading into the lodge. At the Dancing Bear Inn, we caught up with old friends, made new ones, organized our gear, procured last minute beer, and shared the anticipation for the next morning.

Gearing up at the Dancing Bear Inn in Nelson

After the obligatory stop at Oso Negro for coffee and breakfast, our crew headed north to New Denver, where we would meet the VMT snowcat for the hour’s ride into the lodge. With a snowcat instead of a helicopter, there would be no worrying about weather delays, or weighing in equipment – this was all the gear & beer we could bring.

Jason and Fredd looking out the window with anticipation.

Calling VMT a backcountry “hut” is a bit of a misnomer. With hot water showers, a sauna, flush toilets, spacious living area and comfortable rooms, there would be no roughing it on this trip. There would be much to explore later, but there were important tasks at hand – unloading the cat, getting a quick lunch, going through the safety briefing, and heading out to ski for the afternoon.

Getting ready for the first afternoon.

Evan gave us the run-down on the schedule over lunch, and a quick look at what the week might bring. VMT had a solid base in place, and the previous couple weeks’ high pressure had recently broken, with more storms inbound. A lurking layer of faceted snow was causing stability problems out in alpine, but VMT had plenty of steep and deep tree skiing to offer. We grouped up and did some thorough practice locating, probing and digging out buried packs with beacons, and then it was skis on.

Heading out for the first lap, fresh mountain air in our lungs.

With a couple hours of daylight left, we got our legs under us. The gray stayed in place, while the trees on Ruby Glades held a sheltered foot or so of powder. With everyone buddied up for BC tree skiing, the hoots and hollers echoed up the hill. Two laps went by too quickly, but there were hot appetizers and soup waiting back at the lodge and a lot of skiing on the table the next morning.

Marta, Lulu and Tobin relaxing in the lodge that evening.

More to come tomorrow….

-Graham

Well, the high and dry has set in up north in British Columbia, which means it has been dumping down south. I don’t mind so much, because it means its time to get back into the alpine and ski the BIG lines in more stable snow. When things set up right, you can really tuck your way up into the mountains inhospitable nooks and crannies, and do some amazing skiing.

Here is a video from last week of me and a bunch of skiers from the Reno area…enjoy!

All of you VMT devotees…I am in Utah right now, so some trip reports from down there. The word at VMT though is snow, and more snow. Probably close to a meter in the last week, with Dale telling me that there was close to 30cm of new snow this morning and more on the way.

Some folks in Salt Lake City see the high pressure on the weather map, hold their breath and hang up their skis. Others like Andrew McLean charge 10 in 10 days, or myself, I try and get after some longer higher tours that I haven’t done in a while, especially since I live in British Columbia these days! Back home in BC, the storms are rolling in, with lots of weak layers being preserved by the more northerly colder temper regime (I am snow geeking out here!). But part of the beauty of the high desert is the strong high pressures and rapid stabilization of the snowpack in these warmer temperatures.

Blah blah blah. You can log on to the Utah Avalanche Center website, and see for yourself, the decreasing avalanche danger. Not that it is fully greenlight out there right now (is it ever?), but things are pretty good and I am slowly building my confidence in the snowpack here and ramping up some tours in some bigger areas.

Sunday we started off with a tour from Big Cottonwood Canyon to Mill Creek via Reynolds Peak, the Wilson Chutes and Gobbler’s Knob. Lots of ridge walking in the sun, and great settled, soft and consistent powder on the north facing shots. With a car stashed in Mill Creek, we got to ski out over 4,000′ down the NW side of Gobbler’s in amazing snow as well. I’ll let the Google Earth image and the photos do the rest of the talking.

Google Earth image with our tour drawn in

Walking along Gobbler’s Knob Summit Ridge

Richard drops into the Wilson Chutes

Looking 4,500′ down the last run of the day to Porter Fork!

Today (Monday) we decided to tackle the crown jewel of the Wasatch, Mt. Superior, with some skiing in Cardiac Bowl and a long and beautiful ski out Mineral Fork. We went for the long ascent of the East Ridge of Superior for the added ski mountaineering aspect of the day and summit climb. Once again some great north facing settled powder and some billy goating on ridges and entrances so we can sneak into Mineral Basin where hardly anyone had been. Maps and photos will give you the full picture instead of my babbling…

The East Ridge of Superior. Classic.

Hiking up the East Ridge.

Dreamy and creamy turns down from the Summit of Superior.


Poking around to find the entrance into Mineral Fork

Mineral Fork void of tracks

Get out there and enjoy it while you can, I have 4 more days until I head back up to the land of snow (Canada). The weather forecast says at least 2 more days of high pressure here in Salt Lake though… hmmmm.