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Life and Times on Mt Waddington

J Dogg — Tue, 12 Jun 2007 02:44:20 -0400

Rating

2 bugs, 2 birds, & 2 fighter jets. If it sounds like a bad movie title, you're close, but rather, I was thinking it's the only signs of life we saw on our week long trip to climb & ski Mt Waddington, BC, just under 2 weeks ago.

We knew we were in for an epic week of mountain life when we asked Mike King our heli pilot how many groups would be up in the area during our week. His answer was something like "I don't think there's another group flying until mid June, apart from that there's not another person for 50 miles".

So with 50+ miles of untracked big mountain terrain to ourselves, it was time to get our shred on, or, um, at least try. The hardest part of the mission had been completed... getting our sorry arses from Whistler to Tatla Lake. You wouldn't think it would be that hard, but when one of the team members (mentioning no names, Andre) is 5 hours behind, then finds out his skis & 1 boot are locked in Snowcovers, the start of the trip was looking dicey.

Mad cell phone calls and a lot of shenanigans later, we managed to blitz from Whistler at 2am, drive through the night with a gear bursting roof-rack, and roll into Tatla lake for a late morning flight. But hey, that's what alpine starts are all about right?

Mike heli operation White Saddle Air based in Tatla Lake, BC, is pretty much the only good way to get into Mt Waddington area, with by far the closest range to base camp, and an insane amount of knowledge about the area. We pretty much trusted him to find a good spot to dump us on the 25 km long Tiedemann Glacier, so Rainy Knob it was.

Part of Mt Munday, from Camp.

When the heli buzzed off, jaws dropped and we all pretty much stood there in awe, checking out the peaks around us. BIG mountains, with BIG lines to climb and ski in every direction. That, and even BIGGER terrain that we, nor any like minded skier, would touch with a ten foot pole. Our camp stared right up at the mother herself, Mt Waddington, flanked on 2 other sides with the likes of Mt Munday, Combatant, Tiedemann, Asperity and the Serras, & more. The huge spires and rock walls kinda gave us the feeling we'd been dropped in Chamonix during the ice age, with not a sole or extreme frenchie skier in sight.

Mt Tiedemann & Aspertiy from camp.

Our main objective on 'Mission Waddington' was of course to summit and ski Waddington. Then we figured we'd tack about 5 or 6 couloirs onto the checklist if the weather co-operated. Uh, right. Lets call it optimistic thinking. Day 1 was a scorcher, baking in the sun, building camp, setting up our Iron Chef kitchen, and chillaxin' to the max. Day 2 we'd planned bomb up to the Combatant col, check things out, bag Waddington if we felt like it, or just shred the Combatant Couloir as another option. That sounded all good & dandy until we woke up to the sound of pouring rain, went back to bed, woke up again, and more rain. Sitting on a tent in a glacier for a day is anything but rad, but hey, we knew summer was coming so we crossed our fingers and killed time like nobody's business.

Come day 3, skies were clear and at 2am we were ready to roll, but not ready for the day ahead. Lots of terrain, crevasses & bergschrunds to cover, we found ourselves in late morning with blazing sun and the whole Combatant Couloir still to be climbed, on the OTHER side of the big bergschrund. Strike one, slushy shredding back to camp, and plenty learnt. We'll be back.

Day 4 was destined for failure, but again in good fun. Our sights were set on Waddington, but uh, with everyone sleeping through the alarms, our 11am start turned to 2:30, and we bolted for a closer twisty couloir on Mt Tiedemann instead. That's when Mt Waddington gave us a little 'Who's Your Daddy' to put us in our place. There we were oogling at an icefall bombing 5000ft down the face, slamming into the glacier, and causing a snow cloud that started getting closer, and closer and closer.

CHECK THE AVALANCHE VIDEO CLIP>>>

"That's not going to reach us is it?" we thought from 500ft above the valley floor, and next thing you know we were anchored into the wall with our ice axes while a hurricane of wind and snow blasted well past us up the mountain side, turning around our sunny morning like a bat out of hell.

Add that to the 15+ crevasses we had to delicately cross before the couloir started, and once again we found ourselves at the mouth of the couloir, with the baking sun fresh on arrival, another mission down the drain, and more tales of mountain learning.

But enough's enough, Day 5 was go time, and a 10pm wake up (yes that's pm) was early enough to get our butts from base camp, through the icefall mazes in the dark, up the Angel Glacier in the light, and finally but barely, to the North West summit of Mt Waddington - the highest peak entirely in BC at 4000m on the dot, 4019 on the main summit.

It wasn't without it's own nonsense, but hey, we got there, skied off the top, and even bagged some powder on the way down - on what must have been a 30 degree day at base camp. Go figure. Mission accomplished after 17 hours of climbing and skiing, followed by an accidental 12 hour sleep that left us with no choice but to rest a day.

In our weary waking state on day 6, we had the choice to call the chopper and call it a trip, or stay to our champagne & JD celebration plan and stick in there for 2 more days before our ride would again be available. Burnt, tired, and melting from inherent flesh eating disease made bailing on the trip tempting, but we decided to stick with it for 1 or 2 more good couloir lines. Good call right? Wrong again guys. We woke the next morning/night to discover nothing had frozen... at midnight. Summer was here, and here to stay. So with no more safe skiing to be had, and a base camp that melted faster than a slurpee in a microwave, we had 2 days to kill... without killing ourselves. The mornings put on a good show with no more than a 30 second pause between thunderous icefalls cascading down Mt Munday and neighboring peaks.

To add the entertainment, what's a remote backcountry trip without hotshot CF-18 fighter jets buzzing right through the valley lap after lap, kart-wheeling and loop-de-looping right over the Combatant Col between Combatant & Mt Waddington. Our own private air-show. Not as pimp as, say, a private flight off the frickin' glacier, but a good 2nd place.

After 2 days of it, we were well and dong with Mt Waddington 2007. Bagged & skied, with no other lines on the checklist but an intense desire to get back soon. Well, until the quote of the trip came out... to the affect of "Waddington is kinda like a chick that you want to sleep with but don't want to date. Fun at first but once you bagged her you want to get as far away as possible." Let's just say that wasn't me, the married guy.

And so it was, in came the heli on day 8 and we were outta there like a kid with a bunny rabbit with dinosaur food attached to it's tail - wanting nothing more than to get as far away from the mountains as possible, jump in a lake, and welcome summer the way normal people do.

But in an ironic turn of events, after only a day's rest, we ended up back in the mountains, with even stupider outfits, hotter weather, and more painful bodily abuse. Who'd have known climbing and skiing BC's highest peak was all just a well calculated training exercise... for Gaper Day 2007.

Until next year eh?

DETAILS, DETAILS, DETAILS:

Access: Best way into the area is with Mike King at White Saddle Air - 250 476 1182 or whitesaddleair@telus.net, based out of the King family ranch at Bluff Lake, near Tatla Lake, West of Williams Lake, BC.

Accommodation: Our shoddy timing left us no time to chill, but if you have time spend a night before or after the trip at Dave & Lori King's B&B - the White Saddle Ranch Country Inn. We've stayed before, it rocks.

Route Info: Look no further than 'The Waddington Guide' by Don Serl. It's a mountaineering guide book, so unlike those lame ski touring books out there in the world, this one gives you the goods on what to climb & ski.

And uh ya, we'll end it on that note...

Touring Boot Review - Dynafit

J Dogg — Wed, 16 May 2007 23:38:00 -0400

Rating

Avid Whistler bakcountry skier Lee Lau put some of Dynafit's alpine touring boots to the test - the Zzero4 C-MF and Zzero3 C-TF. Here's the full lowdown:

May 16. 2007

Words by Lee Lau. Pictures by Lee Lau and Sharon Bader

Other useful links:

Dynafit press - release about the Zzero boot lineup
Lou Dawson's observations on the 2007-8 Dynafit lineup (including comparatives and observations on boot-fit)
Thread on Tetongravity.com forums - AT Boot Flex Comparative List by Model
Abstract of the Dynafit catalogue containing details of the Zzero line

Introduction:

In the small world of North American ski-touring and ski-mountaineering, Dynafit is known moreso for its bindings then for its boots. With the introduction of a new line of boots for the 2007 - 8 season, this state of events may change.

The line of boots is named Zzero. That rather awkward name is perhaps the least confusing part of Dynafit's nomenclature. Are you ready for this lengthy turgid explanation? Perhaps take a deep breath and sit down.

Let's use the Dynafit Zzero4 C - MF as an example. As I said, Zzero is the name of the entire line of boots. There are 4 buckles on this boot. There is also Carbon. It has a MF or Multi-form liner (as opposed to the lighter thermo-form liner designated by the TF symbol).

To add to the confusion, the Zzero is a big full-featured line of boots. I reviewed the Zzero 4 buckle carbon version but there are also Zzero 4 buckle Pebax plastic and Zzero 4 buckle PU plastic versions; both of which have different stiffnesses, weights and pricepoints but sharing similar construction details. Dynafit also has two versions of the Zzero 3 buckle boot; the carbon version that I am reviewing and a Pebax version. Finally there is a Zzero 2 buckle carbon version as well as the old standby's, the TLT boot line.

Unfortunately Dynafit does not yet have an online catalogue on its website on this date. Please see the links cited above for further information and technical details about the boots and also hosted here on my personal website is an abstract of the Dynafit catalogue containing information about the boots.

From left to right: Garmont Mega Ride, Dynafit Zzero3 C-MF, Dynafit Zzero4 C-MF, Garmont G-Ride

Reviewer's methodology

I will provide impressions of the boot's skiing and touring ability by comparing this boot against other alpine touring boots that I have recently used; the Garmont Mega-Ride, Garmont G-Ride and the Scarpa Spirit 4. I will not review the technical features of this boot, its construction method or boot-fitting in detail - that is not the primary purpose of this review. I intend to concentrate more on the subjective feel aspect of this boot as opposed to quantitative measures.

It is this reviewer's impression that the Dynafit Zzero 4 buckle boot in particular can be best compared to other Dynafit - binding compatible 4 buckle touring boot offerings, such as the Garmont Mega Ride and the Scarpa Spirit 4. The Mega Ride is a known quantity familiar to many earn-your-turn enthusiasts in both its stock and modified form and I will use it is a base-line when discussing the Zzero4. The Scarpa Spirit 4 is a new offering this year and my future review of the Scarpa boot will perhaps provide further colour for screed on the Dynafit boots. When the Scarpa Spirit 4 review is complete and published it I will edit this review of the Dynafit Zzero to link to the Scarpa Spirit 4 review.

Since both Dynafit Zzero boots are "big" boots, I skied them with the following relatively big skis:

Salomon Pocket Rockets 185cms mounted with Dynafit Verticals
Kneissl Tankers 180cm mounted with Fritschi Freerides.

I used these boots in a variety of conditions over a period of three full days including groomers, cut-up powder and slush on a ski-hill, white-out touring on a glacier in heavier snow with assorted slide-debris and heavy snow on a hard underlying surface on a ski-hill and backcountry.

Reviewer's biases

You should know some of this reviewer's background for further context. I have ski-toured for about 12 years, starting out on leather telemark boots and three-pin bindings and since migrating/evolving towards alpine touring setups consisting of Fritschi Diarmir Freerides and Dynafits with a variety of skis. My touring time mostly consists of day-trips with two or three multi-day short traverses during a season.

I weigh 160 lbs and ski mainly in the Coast Mountains of British Columbia in the Vancouver/Whistler/Squamish area. Local mid-winter snow is usually of the higher water - content variety therefor necessitating bigger skis and bigger boots. Having said that [ Because of this], for almost all the tours I do, I would trade downhill performance for uphill performance.

Now that I have my biases out of the way, on to the review.

Side profiles of (from left to right): Garmont Mega Ride, Dynafit Zzero3 C - TF, Dynafit Zzero4 C -MF, Garmont G-Ride

Construction details

Both Zzero models are built like traditional alpine touring boots with overlapping cuffs, a tongue and a vibram-covered rockered sole with an articulated walk mode in the heel. To minimize weight both boots use Pebax plastic extensively in construction and magnesium buckles. Carbon stringers on the bootshell and the tongue add stiffness and look pimp. The manufacturer stated weight for the Zzero4 in my size 27.5 with TF liners is 1585g per boot. The ZZero3 I tried weighed in at 1430g. This compares with my own boot, a 4 buckle Garmont MegaRide (modified with Scarpa Tornado tongue) weighing in at 1650g per boot.

There are two different liner choices available. The Multi-form liner is billed as a hybrid between a conventional and thermo liner and has lacing. The Thermo Form liner is your basic well-built thermo-formed liner with no lacing and is lighter (260g as opposed to 360g for the MF liner - manufacturer stated weights). Neither liner has ribbing or grips built onto the bottom as do newer Intuition liners; which would have been a useful feature in case you want to use your liners in a hut.

The boot has two lean modes when switching to ski mode - 15 and 21 degrees. The walk mode switch is small and may be difficult to operate with bulky gloves.

As expected, construction details appear top-notch. I did not have the boots for a sufficient length of time to comment on durability.

From left to right: Dynafit Zzero4 C - MF and Dynafit Zzero3 C - TF

How do they ski?

Dynafit Zzero 4 buckle

The short answer - frighteningly well.

Longer answer: no disrespect to marketing types but when someone tells me that they've made a boot that is both stiffer and lighter then any other boot in the market, I roll my eyes, mouth "yeah right" and ask for more kool-aid. This is one of the odd times when the marketing hype lives up to reality. The Dynafit Zzero 4 buckle is alarmingly stiff and imparts tremendous control in downhill situations albeith with some caveats.

To give further colour to my comments, I first tried these boots on with my stock Garmont liners that are packed out to plastic-bag thinness. I literally could not get the buckles on the Zzero4 tight enough using this liner so had to stay centered and not pressure the boot-tongue with forefoot pressure. I then proceeded to rip lines down Whistler Bowl then the Saddle doubling up chopped up soft bums and railing carved turns at mach - speed on the groomed trails. Simply put, the lateral rigidity of the boot is comparable to my alpine boots. Obviously they are much stiffer then my Mega Rides in this regard.

I thought I should try the boots with proper liners that fit so took them out in what can be best described as elephant snot snow in lower elevations and chopped up powder up higher. The boots were a revelation in these circumstances also, imparting tremendous control to this skier. Descending through a white-out from backcountry towards the ski-hill I had unbuckled the bottom two buckles on the boot for a bit of comfort and inadvertently hit some wet-slide debris. No problem with control or bringing the skis back under my body. Again, using my Mega Rides I would have been struggling quite a bit more.

This illustrates the caveat to which I had alluded earlier. These boots are almost too stiff in the sense that there are no compromises when skiing; they are powerful boots, for powerful, aggressive, big skiers. The stiffness engages quickly and there is an absence of that intangibility in progression when the boot engages its power. If this boot were a car, it would be a constantly growling dragster. The power is either on or off. There is no in-between. If this sounds at all intimidating, then so be it! This is not a boot for timid or relaxed skiers.

Dynafit Zzero 3 buckle .

I was prepared to be let down by the 3 buckle Zzero after being overawed by its bigger 4 buckle brother. Instead I found a more pleasant-natured boot but still with an aggressive hard edge. This is a very capable boot and it handled the big skis well especially given challenging conditions. It is subsceptible to being overpowered if one is to back-seat ski fast down big slopes; in particular high-speed turns reveals its limitations. At slower to medium speeds, it is a capable, predictable boot. I will be honest and say that I did not have the same bug-eyed "oh wow" feeling after skiing this boot as I felt with its 4 buckle relative.

I will add that the 3 buckle Zzero offering does not feel as balanced as the 4 buckle version. The 4 buckle boot is stiff throughout while the 3 buckle boot has a relatively soft cuff but stiff forefoot. One cannot resort to leaning forward and pressuring the cuff while driving skis so an adjustment to skiing style is necessary.

From left to right: Garmont Mega Ride, Scarpa Spirit 4, Dynafit Zzero C - MF

How do they tour?

Dynafit Zzero 4 buckle

This remarkably stiff boot does not tour badly at all. Of course, it's hardly a tennis shoe but whatever they put in the water of those crafty Dynafit engineers works. The carbon tongue slides back and forth, imparting some give to the boot. I also found that I had to slack off all the buckles and undo the powerstrap to get a full natural stride as opposed to my usual method of merely undoing buckles from ski mode. This adds some time to transistions.

Hiking in this boot is not a joy. The stiffness of the sole, tongue and bootshell militate against comfort.

I did not have the opportunity to scramble rock on these boots.

Dynafit Zzero 3 buckle

As per expectations, this boot tours quite a bit better then the Zzero 4 buckle. Of course, the cuff is softer, lacking the extra buckle and one's stride feels more natural. However, hiking in this boot is also no occasion for a party - recall that this 3 buckle boot is relatively quite stiff.

From L to R: Dynafit TF (thermoflex) liner, Dynafit MF (Multiform) liner, and Scarpa Intuition liner

Summary

If you are a big and/or aggressive skier that drives big skis, get the Zzero4 carbon boot. If you are looking at getting a "quiver" of boots and want a big boot for slackcountry or yo-yo laps, get the Zzero4 carbon boot. If you are a light, finesse skier that wants one boot to do it all then perhaps either look at getting the Zzero4 in full Pebax and skip the carbon version (the Pebax version is supposed to be less stiff then the Carbon version) or get the Zzero 3 buckle. I found the Zzero4 buckle carbon to be a considerable leap in stiffness over the baseline boot - a Garmont Mega Ride. The Zzero3 buckle carbon is comparable in stiffness to the Garmont Mega Ride.

If you get these boots, be prepared to concentrate on skiing well and be prepared to drive skis hard. Neither suit lazy skiers or sloppy technique all that well.

Pros:

Fantistically light and stiff
Decent tourability given the stiffness
Striking colours; easily spotted by friends and celebrity-seekers
Will comfortably drive even big skis

Cons:

Will not be cheap
Power comes on rapidly. Full commitment required to ski these boots
Stiffness does not make for fun hikes
Not everyone will like the Euro-tastic bright green and bright yellow colours

Dynafit Zzero4 C-MF in use on the Blackcomb Glacier

Kit Deslauriers Skied Everest?

J Dogg — Fri, 20 Oct 2006 23:07:25 -0400

Rating

While most of us are sitting on our butts waiting for winter to show up, Kit DesLauriers, Rob DesLauriers, David Hahn, Jimmy Chin & Bryce Brown just waltzed on over to this wee peek we like to call Mt Everest, and skied it. A first ever for a female. At least that's the details we've made out. It's all over the web, rather than spreading false rumours we'll let you read it for yourself...

Jackson Hole Daily

Mt Everest Site

Yep, guess that means it's time to get in gear and shred the hell out of our wussy little resorts, until we're ready to lay some turns on everest. And hey, if the trend these days is to 'take your park skills into the backcountry', then who's gonna build the first booter off Mt Everest? Dar ya...

Couloir Too Far

J Dogg — Thu, 10 Mar 2005 00:00:00 -0500

Rating

Amidst a season that's making most BC skiers want to shoot themselves, there's still plenty of missions to be had if you're willing to work for it. This past weekend, for lack of anything better to do, we came up with the weekend's objective... The Super Couloir. Spotted on a past trip to Mt Atwell in the Diamond Head area above Squamish, this aesthetic 3,200 ft steeply walled couloir stands boldly in the distance beyond the Garibaldi-Neve traverse, where hundreds of mellow ski tour groups unknowingly pass in and out of it's view every spring. It had been haunting us for over a year. Snapshots became screensavers, topo maps were adroned with a big X marking the spot, and we added it to our lengthy 'to do' list for winters to come. Obsession, yes. The only thing we forgot to do was make not of how far it was...

The clock struck 11pm at Pepe & Gringo's in Squamish, as good a time as any to gear up and head into the backcountry right? Hmmm, the moonlit hike was a sure-fire way to digest the beers and burritos, but hiking the last few kilometers were anything but fun at 2:30 in the morning. Causing a ruckus in the Elfin Shelter, we clambered to bed after waking a few eager backcountry skiers (insert mental picture of early bedtimes and gore-tex sombrero's here). Knowing we had a short Day 2 ahead of us, we slept until the earlybirds had left for the day, then packed up our gear and slogged up to the highest point on the Garibaldi neve below Mt Atwell. The slog quickly became a 'slosh' when some ice gave-way on my creek crossing, leaving me knee-deep and bewildered in the middle of a rushing creek. But we carried on, reaching our 'camp to be' and viewpoint in the early afternoon. Looking way across the expanse of the Neve, our screensavers came to life more impressive than we remembered, and WAY FURTHER AWAY.

Upon first glance we immediately abandoned our plans, dropped our bags, and sat lazily on the flat glacier in the blazing sun. There sat the Super Couloir, taunting us more than ever before, miles and miles across and below the Neve traverse. Sitting became lying, as myself, Andre Charland, and Mathieu Miller collectively passed out in the sun, daydreaming about the distant couloir we came to not ski. Heck, we didn't even know what it was called, how steep it was, or what lay between us and the base, apart from the obvious horizontal slog with refrozen 'creek' boots. But as lazy as we became, we all knew the only thing worse than slogging big backpacks for several miles to ski, is doing the same grunt work for nothing. So we dragged our sorry asses off the snow, and went for a quick scouting walk to check things out. Combining our topo map with our rusty high school math, we figured we could traverse to the couloir, climb it, ski it, climb black up the neve, and traverse out to hut and beyond to the car in about 16 hours. So with 12 hours of daylight per day, our shoddy math skills gave us the green light.

Skip to 3am, we rolled out of our bivy's, boiled some water, and went for broke. After dodging a few crevasses by moonlight (with our ropes back at camp) we continued down the glacier to the foot of the couloir, watching it rise higher with every pole plant. Staring up at 3,200 feet of hard-packed buff, we were able to throw on our crampons and bomb up the chute as if hiking a steep cement sidewalk. Guess there's some perks to a really bad ski season!

Topping out without incident, we buckled up our boots (now thawed and soupy) and pointed our skis towards the 3,200 ft straight-shot elevator shaft, all the while hoping to catch a Scott Schmidt sighting. Dropping into the couloir, the boilerplate conditions made the otherwise easy-going pitch a bit more lively, as the 3,000 foot laundry chute tumble wasn't too appealing. Arbitrarily flipping our skis from side to side, we put our rail sliding practive to the test until the lower half gave way to some carvable buff, and before we knew it the Super Couloir was a thing of the past.

Faced with about 7 more hours of walking, we threw on our sun hats, shades, and t-shirts (yep, in early March) and slogged across the white desert of the Garibaldi Neve, frequently twisting to steal a glance back at the couloir. Back at camp we reluctantly resumed our sherpa status, slumped our packs over our backs, and headed for home after one last peek at the couloir. The 'couloir too far' had been skied, leaving nothing to haunt us but the 6 other awesome dog-legged couloirs crammed into the same steep corner of the valley, but that's another story.

DETAILS

The many morals of this story include, don't be dumb like us, keep your feet out of creeks, bring ropes and headlamps that work, and if you have enough redbull and chocolate, there's 7 steep elevator-shaft couloirs waiting for you in Garbaldi Park.

This couloir and several others lare ocated in Garibaldi Park at the North-East end of Spire Peaks, past Pyramid Peak. You can catch a glimpse of the tops of Super Couloir and the neighbouring 'Camel Toe' from any highpoints on the Garibaldi neve, or from Atwell Peak or Dalton Dome. The area is crammed full of skiable couloirs and some crumbly but probably climable rock walls. Access from Elfin Lake Shelter.

We have know idea what the couloirs or called, nor if people ski them regularly. What we do know is the area rules, and if you haven' t been there it's worth the trek. If you know anything about this couloir, please email us at 007@doglotion.com and we'd be happy to add your comments. Keep on shreddin'

Conquering Denali

J Dogg — Wed, 20 Oct 2004 00:00:00 -0400

Rating

"Ya, I'd like to spend a month on a mountain sometime... It'd be a good experience" I stated these exact words only a few months before we stepped off of the Beaver onto the SE Fork of the Kahiltna Glacier, in the Alaska Range.

The three of us chucked our gear into the slurpee-like snow and watched our plane take-off, making a huge arc in front of Mt. Foraker en-route home. We were amongst mountains I'd always dreamed of seeing. As I bent to grab a handful of gear I think it dawned on me for the first time what we were getting ourselves into. "Shit man, that's a big mountain". Kees didn't give me much of a reply save for a smile an some refrains from some country song he had rattling around in his head. Hmm... so I'm going climbing with a country fan? I wonder how many songs he knows? (ed: lots!)

I met Kees this winter on a ski trip somewhere near Pemberton in BC's Coast Mountains. That weekend was one of my favorite weekends of the year, where along with our friend Andre 'Volcano' Charland, we got to ski perfect lines in perfect conditions. Typical future plans were exchanged over shitty pancakes, and oddly this one worked out. We decided to ski the highest mountain in North America -- Denali (aka Mt. McKinley for you Yanks).

It's every skier's dream to ski in Alaska, to ski big mountains and huge lines. Our friend Jonathan had skied in AK earlier in the year and despite an injury he came home with nothing but rave reviews. This one was too good to pass up. Claire and I had already planned to visit Alaska during the summer, and with a little convincing, our plans were easily changed to accommodate the Big One.

Then the real work began. Most people spend around a year conditioning to climb McKinley... we had 60 days. So Claire and I finished up work and got it all going. What people don't realize about big trips and big lines is the background work that goes into it. We needed to coordinate with Kees, who was thousand of kilometers away in Colorado, purchase and prepare 30 days of food, and get in a whole lot of practice during an unfavorably wet spring. These 60 days of prep are some of my favorite memories from the 03-04 ski season. Day trips up Baker, Adams etc are stories unto themselves.

Tune in to doglotion.com for footage of 'Raining on Rainier', that follows 6 skiers, 3 cars, and a truckload of American beer on a trip through two countries, and 3 states in the pursuit of cougars and gnarr... We picked up Kees in Anchorage and checked into the shittiest hotel we could find. Truth be told, we wanted something without crack dealers outside but they were all booked up for the solstice marathon. Anchorage isn't at all as I expected. I should think it was a whole lot more interesting prior to the cruise ship industry. I wasn't too sad to leave it behind and get to Talkeetna, the airfield/ tourist mecca from which we would catch a flight into basecamp.

The first climbers we met in Talkeetna were two guys from Montreal that looked burnt. They had been hammered by a storm for 5 days at 17,000ft that tore up tents and prevented anybody from summiting. I may be naive, but this was the first time it really hit me that we may not be able to reach our objectives... an interesting feeling of vulnerability. We flew in with Boris Zee Russian. OK, so I don't really know if that's his name but it suited him fine. We determined that he was going to solo the Cassin Ridge and this alone earned him our 'hardcore' title. Besides, I think this guy lived off of cigarettes and sardines! Although few words were ever exchanged between us, we felt a kinship with Boris. 'If zee Russian goes, vee go'. If you're ever in doubt while in the mountains, just chant this mantra. The climb up to 14,000 ft is more aptly a slog. Basically speaking, you need to move 130lbs each of gear up 7,000ft to high camp. From 14,000ft to 17,000ft is the steepest part of the West Buttress route, and from there its one long day to the top. We lucked out and experienced uncommonly good weather for the majority of our climb. In hindsight, we were on the mountain during the longest period of good weather of the climbing season.

The day we flew out, another system rolled in and shut down the mountain for yet another week. Having reached the top on a warm sunny day, we were able to ski off the summit with the best snow conditions of the trip. I'm sure Kees still gets a laugh remembering me cross the summit ridge. I'm notoriously antsy on steep ridges, and made a point of having solid footing on this endeavor. We had beautiful views from the summit, and if Kees ever forgives me for putting my thumb in front of his camera lens, I'll get to remember it for a long time. The ski back to 17,000ft was fast and easy and we even lucked out enough to have boot deep powder for the first 1000ft.

The gallery of guided climbing parties whooped it up for us as they trudged up our boot tracks. No doubt, they were wishing they had lugged up 15 pound skis as they still had a long walk to the summit and back to 17,000ft camp. Big shouts to Mario (and his three guides for lugging all the gear) for summiting at the youthful age of 71& 9 months, beating the previous record by 6 months! It is unfortunate that we couldn't have had all three of us on top at once as Claire had been taken sick by a nagging cold she picked up on the first day of the trip. Our first attempt to reach the summit had us turning around 500ft from the summit at around 3am faced with bad weather and deteriorating conditions. This attempt took a lot out of us and wouldn't allow Claire the second chance on this trip. I like to think that we were a team throughout the trip. We all had our strengths, our weaknesses, our moments of glory, and our regrettable moments. Living within 50 meters of two people for three weeks lets you share the highest highs and the lowest lows.

There's not much we didn't share on this trip and I'm thankful for having two great partners that made the trip fun and that dealt with my bullshit for three weeks. Extra special thanks go to Claire for being the butt of jokes for three weeks because she was the only girl and she had to pee with a funnel (you wouldn't want to drop your drawers up there either) and because she could shoot snot rockets better than the boys. Special thanks should also go to Kees for getting on a mountain with a couple, and for cooking most of the meals (but honestly Kees, would you have wanted me to cook more having seen what I did to the Canada day brownies?). Thanks guys, you're the best. Our team would also like to introduce a new term 'LEEP*' to your backcountry vocabulary.

Like many words, this one is the product of necessity. I had the misfortune of being the unwilling victim that spawned this valuable expression. I remember ripping down ski hill on the second to last day of the trip, strapped in to my sled, harness, four layers of clothing etc. I had just cleared another snowbridge and was in sight of our next camp when 'LEEP' took hold. I should have known I was at risk, having dropped almost 13,000ft of elevation in less than 48 hours. *For the uninitiated 'LEEP' refers to a low elevation emergency poo. We have no scientific evidence to support it, but it sure as hell happens? This trip report wouldn't be complete without a mention of Bob the Radio-man. We first met Bob at the 14,000ft camp. He was justifiably a minor-celebrity on the mountain. He had carried in over 250 pounds of gear solo up the West Buttress Route, most of it radio equipment and serious gear, including polar bear fur mittens and a rabbit fur hat. I kind of felt like a tool standing beside him in my techno-weenie gear.

Originally from Washington, he's been living in northern Alaska for a long time. This was his second trip to McKinley, and at the 17,000ft camp he was a bit of a watchful angel relaying messages from the Parks Service and generally keeping an eye on all of us. We had the fortune to rope-up with Bob to assist him across the lower glacier to base camp as the unseasonaly warm weather had reduced the condition of the lower glacier to a game of Russian roulette for a soloist. Having arrived back safe and sound in Talkeetna, we headed out for a beer with Bob and ran into many of our newfound friends from Denali. Kees and I dove into multiple servings of ox burgers, pie, ice cream and beer... afterwards I don't recall ever feeling so sick. Kees left us the following day, and Claire and I spent the next month driving back to Vancouver in Claire's little Civic via central Alaska, the Yukon, and the North-West Territories.

The whole trip was amazing: from start to finish. It's been almost three months since we got off the mountain. The three of us are spread across BC, Alberta and Colorado attending university but the plans are developing as snow returns to North America. I'm looking forward to sharing another trip with Kees and Claire. It's only one month until the season starts in the Rockies. If you love the mountains, hit the gym, get stoked, it never ends... We would like to give thanks to our families for their support, to Doglotion.com for stoking the dream, and to Evan at Canada's very own Integral Designs, makers of the best gear for the backcountry!!!

Skiing Mt Adams

J Dogg — Sat, 28 Jun 2003 00:00:00 -0400

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Pat was a little jealous we bagged Mt Rainier two weeks earlier, so he tried to convince us to do it again. Jack and I wanted to ski, however we wanted to try something else. So the only way Pat could top the Rainier trip is if he went and skied two Volcanoes in one weekend. So that was the plan: Mt Adams then Mt Hood, in one weekend.

We hit the road around 7pm on Friday from Jacks house. We grabbed some half decent mexican food with huge mugs of beer on the way down. We kind of underestimated the length of the drive and rolled into camp at Cold Springs around 4:30am on Saturday morning. We set up camp quickly and went to sleep. Two hours later we woke up and started getting ready for the 7000ft climb ahead of us.

We finally hit the trail around 8:40am. We had about an hour of hiking on dirt, but it wasn't that bad since it was a very smooth low angle trail. Once we skinned up we could see the summit and the route directly ahead of us, not to mention a solid line of climbers on the headwall to the false summit. I couldn't believe how many people were actually on this mountain all at once! Not like our good old BC mountains where you're lucky to see one other party in a day. We climbed quickly at the lower elevations before the sun got too hot. At the lunch counter, a flat bench around 9000ft, the sun was getting very hot. To climb the headwall I had to use the ski crampons which proved quite effective to ski up the 2000ft thirty to fourty degree wall. Pat and Jack were not as comfortable climbing with skis on so they decided to hike with their skis on their packs fromabout half way up the wall. I think skiing up was much faster and as a result I got to the false summit about fourty five minutes ahead of them.

Around 3pm they both got to the false summit, I didn't mind waiting since it was a beautiful day and there were lots of climbers passing by to chat with. Pat was starting to feel the altitude at this point and actually puked several times... he felt much better after that. A US Forest Ranger caught up to us at that point, as well as a solo skier. We proceeded to the summit as one big group. Jack, the ranger and I skinned up the wide chutes to the summit; while Pat and the lone skier decide to boot pack up the ridge to our right.

We summitted around 5pm. Not tovantage point. I got a bunch of shots and then we took some group shots, even the Ranger got in the group o bad, 7000ft of climbing in just over 8 hours is very respectable when you're going above 10,000ft. That's my opinion anyway. The view from the top was awesome! We could see Hood and Rainier from this excellent summit shot.

Time to go down! We quickly skied down the gentle chutes from the summit. Then traversed skiers left to get the real prize, the southwest chutes, three 5000ft thirty five degree chutes of perfectly consistent pitch and corn snow.

Jack decided to rail down the middle chute so he could sweep around the bottom to shoot some photos of Pat and I coming down the steeper chute on skier's left. The turns were sweet, the corn was perfect, I just kept wishing I could go faster and that my legs wouldn't get tired. Mind you that one chute has the same vertical as skiing from the top of Blackcomb to the base; it was sweet! I don't think we could have wiped the grins from our faces if we'd tried:) Oh ya, that's what summer skiing is all about.

Mt Rainier - Worty Ski Mountaineering Objective

J Dogg — Sat, 14 Jun 2003 00:00:00 -0400

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So ski season normally ends in before June...not this year. With over 28,000 ft of vertical in 4 runs, on 4 mountains (volcanoes) in the last 3 weeks...it seems like the ski season is in full swing. This year it started with Mt Rainier in the state of Washington. Mt Rainier is a massive 14,400 ft volcanoe in the Cascade range of the western United States. It's one of the biggest and most significant mountaineering objectives around. I was always under the false impression that it was unskiable...an then I decided to look into it. Turns out the Emmons Glacier runs up the north side of the mountain right to the summit. So after a couple months of debate the decision is made to go for it! Jack was up for the task, and it turned out we couldn't find anyone else who could make it down there the weekend of the June 15-16th so we went decided to go the '2 man rope team' approach.

From the climbers parking lot at 4300ft we strapped our skis to our big packs and headed up the dirt trail. The US Parks need to be given credit for the superb condition in which they keep their trails! We trekked up about two and half miles before we hit snow shortly before Glacier Basin. We followed a Ranger up the summer trail which he was breaking for the first time of the season. Seemed strange he was boot packing with his skis on his back when we were skinning; but 'to each his own' I guess. Along the trail we got some great views of the massive rock and ice body of Mt Rainier... that's when the daunting nature of this objective really started to set in. Once we passed the Glacier Basin camp ground at 5600 ft the trees gave way to a huge bowl and curved to the left holding within in it the Inter Glacier. We could see several other parties on the glacier...they looked like little black dots; that generally indicates you've got a long ways to go. By this time the sun was beating down on us and I was in shorts and a t-shirt trying to apply sun screen and drink water as often as possible.

The Inter Glacier steepened in the middle, but within a couple hours I'd managed to climb to the top, alhough I could see camp Schurman from there it seemed that it was about 100m straight down a cliff of extremely rotten crumbly rock! So I skied back down to Jack and we scored a few quick steep turns down to the Emmons Glacier. From there we skinned up to a crack just before camp, and we decided to rope up to cross it. Getting to the camp was a relief. We saw another group of skiers carving nice turns in the soft afternoon corn. Then we saw a group of Rangers and so-called Ranger groupy girls (no offense meant to girls, they were awesome skiers!) skiing very agressively down a shoulder to the west of the main ascent route. It looked good, but when they got down they told us it was almost all icy until the last 200m or so. We decided we'd stick to the main route. The next few hours was devoted to cooking dinner and boiling water, Jack had a nap while I did the first shift of cooking and water boiling.

I finally finished cooking, eating and boiling water around eight when I hopped into the tent to start trying to sleep. The sunset was quite amazing and was probably worth the trip up alone. After 5000ft of climbing with heavy pack up to 9500ft it was nice to get some rest. Jack probably got to sleep an hour and a half later. I slept relatively well, although the mountaineers leaving at 11pm did wake me.

Around 2am we got up and the view of Seatlle lights was pretty amazing. We boiled some more water to make breakfast and tea. We geared up tied into the rope and started our ascent around 3:30am. The snow beneath our skis was icy hard and sharp edges had formed everywhere after the sun melted snow had frozen. The use of ski crampons was essential to ascend with our skis and skins on. However, it seemed like most skiers around us liked climbing with their skis on their backs, so we were a little our of place. After a couple hours of dancing around crevasses and traversing above cracks the sun started to rise. The sun came up as a huge glowing ball of deep red and orange... one of the most spectacular sunrises I've ever seen.

As the morning light set in we could see a small group of climbers high and to the left on the Emmons Glacier, they must have been the ones that left at 11pm. We continued to ascend while veering climber's right on the glacier. There were snow bridges every few hundred meters that needed to be crossed; fortunately the snow was still very hard, but we were still very cautious. At about 3500m the altitude was starting to take it's toll, and I could feel the rope tugging backwards on me at more regular intervals. The pitch then steepened and we decided to use our crampons and put the skis on our back. This proved to be much harder and drained our energy a lot quicker. A couple hundred meters later we decided to go back to skis. At this point Jack was really starting to feel the effects or altitude and fatigue. We breaked for a while to regain our strength. A group of mountaineers descended past us, they were complaining about the heat and told us we had long way to go before we gained the summit. I really don't envy anyone who has to walk all the way down these mountains.

Around 10:30am we were at 3900m. The sun was up and had started to wear on us. At this point Jack decided he couldn't go on any further. I wasn't sure what to do. It was a mere 400m to the summit and the worst of the crevasses and snow brigdes were behind us. I hadn't climbed this far to turn around now. I figured I could summit and return with 2 hours, so Jack decided he'd stay put and wait until 3pm before he tried to go for help...I un-roped and carried on. Free from the weight of the rope I could travel faster. Very quickly I became aware that I was alone on a big mountain, and I became aware of the dangers and of the route I must stick to. I had to traverse hard right above a large bergschrund and then climb up to the summit plateau. Just above 4000m was where I really felt the altitude. The physical effects were very noticeable, my legs were slow, my coordination wasn't 100% and my lungs were working overtime to suck in the thin air and drive oxygen into my body. Probably the most bizarre effects of the altitude were in my head. My thoughts wandered and it was harder to focus...

After crossing a plateau I had to put my skis on my back one final time up a moderately steep slope past a steaming vent. My pace was slower than ever towards the top. I finally reached the summit around 12:30pm. There was no one else around, the only human evidence was a brown path through the snow down the other side of the mountain towards routes from Camp Muir. Solo summits are somewhat anti-climatic, but I took in the incredible view, snapped a couple photos and got ready for the descent. It felt weird to start descending after 2 days of climbing. The first turns were on boiler plate ice with divets about 30cm deep! Not much fun at 4000m, but qucikly as I descended the air got thicker and the snow got better. At any rate you can't complain about descents just shy of vertical 10,000ft!!! I quickly met up with Jack and we descended to softer corn snow above camp Schurman. The best turns of the day by far!

We packed up camp, climbed up a narrow chute through to the top of the Inter Glacier and skied about 4500 more feet to snowline where we threw our skis on our packs and hoofed it back to car. Mission accomplished:)

Stay tuned for the next volacno epic....Mt Adams. 5000ft chutes...need I say more?

Wedge Mountain Mission

J Dogg — Thu, 12 Jun 2003 00:00:00 -0400

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Let's pretend we were up at 1 o'clock in the morning to get an early mountaineering start on our climb up the North-West Couloir of Wedge Mountain. In reality, we were only awake at 1 am because we had just arrived at Wedgemount Lake and set up camp after a late 9pm start and some long headlamp-hiking in the dark. It wasn't ideal, but we'd all done the 3-4 hour hike up the Wedgemount Lake trail before, so climbing 1200m up this steep and rooted trail in the dark seemed like a splendid idea at the time. Tired and sweating in the dark at 1 am, we threw our bags down on the first somewhat-flat rock we found, and called it 'camp' for the night.

Not enough hours later (about 4:30 am), we heard neighboring campers packing their bags and starting their climbs. We knew it'd be a good idea to do the same, but it wasn't going to happen on 3.5 hours of sleep.

So when 6 am rolled around we got our acts together, and compared tales of how lame our sleeps were while we chowed down on oatmeal. It was also our first chance to take in the surroundings that we couldn't see the night before, and couldn't help but notice a slew of awesome, flat bivy sites all around us. Hmmm, guess we'll show up before dark next time.

At 7:30 we threw our day packs together and started the hike around lake to the Wedgemount Glacier. At the foot of the glacier we were greeted by the sun, which had already done an impressive job of warming things up around us. Skinning up the slushy low-angled glacier was no worries, but climbing up the couloir with a high rock fall hazard wasn't on the top of our wish list.

We raced the sun over to the couloir, threw on crampons and axes, just in time for the clouds and fog to roll in. It did an awesome job of cooling down the temperatures, but didn't bode well for a good ski run. But we kept on cruising, and even when we were a fewfeet from the top it still seemed like we were going to get skunked.

We only had time for a quick snack at the top before a beauty window of sunshine came over our area, and we dropped in one after another to shred some slush down the juicy 45-50 degree slope below us. Starting from the narrow top section, it wrapped around to skiers right, yielding a steep, wide open couloir for hundreds of feet to come. Sweeeeeeet. It was easily one of the best runs we'd hit all year, and it was July!

And just our luck, as soon as we bottomed out, we could already see nasty rain/storm clouds b-lining up the valley... through Whistler... towards us. There was no escaping it, so while we chilled out for lunch, we watched the storm pass through Whistler, imagining how restaurants with patios would be frantically herding their surprised customers inside.

We cruised down the glacier back to camp, and reluctantly hauled our heavy over-nighter packs and skis back onto our backs before the 3 hours of nasty hiking in the mud and pouring rain to come. Nobody really cared though, because we had just bagged an unreal couloir with of dreamy slushy snow and blue skies. Not a bad way to kill a day in July.

DETAILS...

The turn off for the Wedgmount Lake trail is located on Highway 99, about 2 km North of Emerald Estates, the most northern neighbourhood in Whistler. The turn-off is well marked on the highway. Hang a right at the turn-off and follow the gravel/dirt road to the trailhead. A vehicle with high clearance is recommended, or just a car you don't care about anymore. From the trailhead, the well marked trail climbs 1200m to the hut at Wedgemount Lake. It's a tiny hut in a busy place, so bring a tent or bivy sack when you go. From there you're in a good loction to ski the NW couloir the next day, or to climb one of Wedge's many great mountaineering routes.

The Best Laid Plans - Downtown Creek

J Dogg — Wed, 23 Apr 2003 00:00:00 -0400

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2900 metre peaks just off the Duffey Lake Road. Drivable logging roads to 1500 metres and 4km from the summit! Sounds too good to be true. Well basically it was. Jack and I had this great plan...there are a couple decent sized peaks, some of the highest in the south coast range, that look like worthy descents and had logging roads up to small lake at the foot of the mountains. We then dug up a trip report on Bivouac.com that described the area, Dowton Creek drainage, and how easy it was to drive up a good way up. Based on the fact that there's not much snow below 1500m this year we thought we'd give it a shot.

We plotted the waypoints from the route description into my GPS and we were off! We turned off the Duffey Lake road and started climbing the Downtown Creek logging road. 11km later we're at Branch 2, the intended turn off, and the road is covered in a about one foot of old snow. We gear up and start our arduous 3km, 100m climb. Everythings going great! We set up camp and head off into somewhat cloudy alpine to do some recon for our blue bird 1000m run tomorrow! As we approach the head of the valley we start to realize the mountains and elevations don't jive with the map. Uh oh. Jack asks me to check my GPS, somehow, we're now 6.2Km from the peak which is 2Km farther away from Peak 9200 where we left the car. But that's impossible, we followed the route description perfectly...oh wait the route description doesn't mention anything about the 2 peaks we're going for! Turns out we're in the wrong drainage. After some debate we decide to make the best of it and go a bit higher. The weather doesn't really improve so we decide to just gain the top of a moraine at approximately 2200m. By this point about 15cm of new snow has fallen, and a bit more has accumulated in wind loaded areas.

As I start my descent I decide to do a quick ski cut, sure enough 15cm of snow on top of soft spring crust rips right down the 100m slope I'm about to ski. Oh well, it's not that much snow and it's not that heavy I decide. So I drop in making a series mid size turns because the visibility is poor, but I don't want to go any slower or my slough will hit me. Jack follows making bigger and faster turns, I guess using my tracks for definition. The rest of the way down is spent feeling our way through the fog, scoping some short but steep couloirs and chutes coming down the surrounding ridges. Great skiing to be had here, for the adventurous and mellow skiers alike.

We return to base camp, light a roaring fire and dine in style with some papadums, curry and rice. Of course we're wishing all along we'd brought some wine. We get to bed early expecting blue skies and big descents tomorrow.

5:15am weather check. Socked in and snowing at a steady pace. I go back to bed. So much for big descents. A couple hours later I get up, it's still snowing. We decide to at least gain the ridge above the lake. We get there and the visibility is even worse than the day before. We ski back down a small gladed run, narrowly escaping our sloughs. Once back at camp we pack up, try to take comfort in the fact that it's nice area with a pretty creek and a nice camping spot. But basically we wanted a big descent and it didn't happen.

On the way back we took a couple hours to rally Jacks Volkswagen station wagon up several logging roads in preparation for another trip. There's lots of great logging roads to explore off Duffy lake road. One word of caution if try this, watch out for a guy named Mark driving an orange pick up rather slowly. Here's why. He waved us down and we chatted with him about skiing for a few minutes, he seemed odd but nice enough. Then he asked if we could point where we had been on our map. Seems innocent enough right? Except as he gets out of the car he has to zip up his pants, a common courtesy?!?!? Then when gets closer to the car we can smell vodka heavy on his breath... what's the name of the derranged canoe trip movie? You know the one wih Banjos. We escaped...good thing Jack brought the rally wagon.

DETAILS...

The Downtown Creek is located about 1.5 hours north of Whistler, accessed by taking the Duffey Lake Road from Pemberton towards Lilloet.

Powder in Cayoosh

J Dogg — Wed, 05 Mar 2003 00:00:00 -0500

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"With each turn I sunk up to my nipples in snow... remember that feeling?"

After weeks of shreddin' the hardpack on Whistler/Blackcomb, skiing was getting old, so I set out on a mission to find some powder. I knew there wasn't even a drop of fresh snow in the resort, but what about the backcountry? Obviously my fellow resort skiers didn't have a clue, or they wouldn't still be skiing in-resort. But what about Red Neck Kurt who had just finished 2 weeks without a ski-pass? If there's any freshies to be had, he'd know where it's at.

So Kurt and I headed North out of Whistler, through pemberton, and up the Duffey Lake Road towards Lilloet. The destination... Cayoosh Mtn. An hour and a half later we were at the pullout, and geared up for 2 hours of easy-cheesy skinning up a logging road to access the goods. Gazing up at the steep gladed runs and chutes above us, I was getting the hint that some freshies were waiting for us up top, but couldn't have imagined how sweet it would really be. Cayoosh itself was totally clouded in, so we stuck to the lower ridges and chutes, and we weren't disappointed.

A 30-40 minute skin up a steep gut led to an untracked playground of billgoat ledges, chutes, and glades, all for us and one other group to enjoy. Recent winds had safely deposited a retarded amount of snow on all the Western aspects, but I still didn't really believe it until I was blinded and choking after my first turn down a narrow pin-ball chute we had chosen to session. Endless faceshots after weeks without snow?

After our first run we couldn't get enough of it, so we did lap after lap until until dark. 40 minutes skinning up for 5 precious minutes of snow billowing over our heads on the way down. With each turn I sunk up to my nipples in snow... remember that feeling? If you've been to Cayoosh recently you'll know it well. If you've been skiing icy laps in the resort all winter, it's time to check this place out.

DETAILS…
Cayoosh Mtn is located about 1.5 hours north of Whistler, accessed by taking the Duffey Lake Road from Pemberton towards Lilloet.

Spearhead Traverse 2002

J Dogg — Sat, 15 Jun 2002 00:00:00 -0400

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To anyone who thought winter was over, it's time for a wake up call. We just got back from four days in the Whistler backcountry on the classic Spearhead Traverse, and even with temperatures hotter than Britney Spears we still had mountains of deep, dry powder all to ourselves.

As true slackers do, we got off to a late 12 something start on Whistler Mountain and skinned over to the Russet Lake Hut with our overstuffed packs drooping from our backs. By the time we reached the hut it was so late that most normal skiers were probably detoxing down in the bars. But we still had a peak to bag and we knew the May sun would be kicking around for a few hours yet. We dumped our bags in the hut and booted to the peak of nearby Fissile Mountain, a Whistler area classic. There's nothing easy or boring to ski off this peak, and as the Sun got ready to pack it in for the night we debated over which of several 50+ degree chutes or faces to drop into.

All votes were for the wrap-around 'Elevator Chute', an aesthetic line dropping from the right shoulder of the summit that funnels into the main chute. We were greeted by good ol' spring conditions, stuck with super-skanky crust up top followed at the bottom by the deepest snow I've skied in months! Not a bad start to the traverse.

The whole traverse took four days because we took our sweet ol' time and bagged a few more peaks as we went. Of note, Mt. Iago was a gem we'd been eyeing for a while, and it's 580m of 50-something-degree face skiing yielded some epic turns. On the flip side, our hike up turned into a sketchy, blind traverse above who-the-hell-knows-what as the weather started its series of 'pregnant-lady' mood swings of doom. Nothing like being stuck on a steep and crusty boot-pack route with no game plan, wearing a t-shirt and sunglasses, and no ledges to get your skis or jacket on. Good times.

The other highlight had to be our 2-run session on Mt Tremor; a 55-degree face with unexplainably bottomless powder the whole way down. How you get snow like that in May is beyond us, but we weren't complaining.

All in all it was an amazing trip, and we scoped tons of peaks that we now have lined up for next time, and Mt Fitzsimmons is on the top of that list. It's funny to think that most of the steep descents in the area weren't skied until the early 90's by guys like Trevor Peterson and Eric Pehota.

The slacker mountaineers before then must not have known what they were missing.

Attack of the Ski Bug

J Dogg — Mon, 01 Apr 2002 00:00:00 -0500

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The trip plan seemed innocent and straightforward, but little did we know there was a mischievous critter awaiting us. Seldom spoken of, the mysterious goddess known as the Backcountry Bug had awoken for the winter, and was lurking in every corner of BC's backcountry. Legend has it the Backcountry Bug preys on unsuspecting ski-touring rookies who ignorantly plan to do only one or two backcountry trips per season. Her exclusive mission is to convert every backcountry slacker into full-on enthusiasts, and she doesn't give up easily. We would no doubt encounter her toils on our tour up Cerise Creek to Keith's Hut and the surrounding peaks of Mount Joffre, Mattier, and Vantage, just north of Pemberton, BC.

Before my trip even started, the Bug was brewing a devilish plan to fulfill her mission. Chris and Scott had started the Cerise Creek trip a day early, only to turn back when Chris' day-old Alpine Trekkers called it quits and broke. Rough start.

One day and a Trekker replacement later, Chris and Scott joined Andre and I for another shot at the trip to Joffre. But as early as our arrival in the parking lot, the Bug was back. She whispered some words into my head, and I unknowingly passed them on to one of my touring buddies; "Dude, you brought Securafixes? Those things suck!" But Andre defended his trusty binding adaptors, and took no heed of the Bug's warning. Sure enough, we gear up and start our skin up to the hut, only to watch Andre embarrass himself like a gorbie who got his Nude Ski Day dates mixed up. Before we've covered any ground, the Bug sneaks out from the trees and kicks his securafixes right out from under him. Wham - his face is eating snow with a bag full of gear on top of him to rub it in. Every few hundred meters the Bug jumps out and spanks Andre again, making him now look like a first-timer at the annual Old-Folks Ski Day.

Hmmm, the Trekker's and now the Securafixes... coincidence? I think not. That was our first clue that the Bug wanted us to go buy real touring bindings or go home. But we didn't take the hint, and kept plugging up to the hut. And that's where the Bug kicked it up a notch.

We arrived at Keith's Hut, the base of our would-be casual backcountry excursion, only to find a range of epic peaks as far the eye could see, each loaded with tasty lookin' couloirs, meaty cliff bands, 55 degree faces, and hairy doglotions. Pretty much any freeskiers dream come true, short of a heli to take us their. Casual backcountry trip; what the hell were we thinking? That decision was going to haunt me forever.

But alas, we maintained our casual tempo, taking a good hour or so to eat lunch at the hut. When we finally got our acts together, there was still time to follow a skin track up the Anniversary glacier. Simple right? But we still hadn't clued into the Bug's hints. Sure enough, less than an hour passed before Chris was shouting bitter words at his newly broken Trekker and again turning back for the cabin. His first backcountry trip had clearly turned into a reality-TV infomercial for touring bindings, and yes, he took the hint. Bug: 1, Skiers: 0!

The three survivors kept oozing upwards at our be-nice-to-the-securafixes pace, only to get nowhere near the top of Anniversary Glacier. We settled for turns down the bottom half instead, and could only imagine how wicked the run from the top would have been. We should have guessed this was all part of the Bug's recipe of tomfoolery. According to her plan, we spent the whole night dreaming about the juicy powder atop the glacier.

When the sun rose, we didn't. Instead we lay chilled in our tents while the Bug quietly mocked us for not bringing warmer clothes and sleeping bags. Just another way of telling us to prepare for real backcountry trips or stay home. But there aren't sick peaks like Vantage and Mattier at home, so we finally joined the world of the living and starting gearing up. Calling our bluff, the Bug sat back and chuckled as she watched us take our sweet-ass time at breakfast and end up as the last one?s out of the hut at 11:00 am--another rough start.

This time Vantage Peak was calling our names, so we busted a move from the hut to the col between Mattier and Vantage, only for the Bug to strike again! When we reached the col, the Bug called her buddies up in the sky, and the clouds made way for a beautiful, bluebird afternoon. Our jaws dropped to the snow and we stood there like drooling statues checking out the unfathomable number of lines we wanted to ski. More coffin-chutes, steep hanging faces, and endless straight lines stretching out of sight. This spectacle distracted us for so long that our gung-ho pace to Vantage Peak faded quickly. When we finally got back in gear, it wasn't long before we realized we'd been hosed. We needed about three hours of day light after our descent to pack up camp and get back to the car, and that didn't leave time to bag a peak. Instead we cruised down the lower west face and scored only a taster of what the freshies would be like down the entire North Face.

After packing up shop, a fun jedi-knight ski-out through the trees was the end of our casual backcountry teaser.

Not until that night did everyone finally realize that we'd been sandbagged; bitten personally by the legendary Backcountry Bug. And we knew she wasn't finished yet. True to her mission, she labored all through the night, filling our minds with dreams of many return trips to Cerise Creek, epic descents on Joffre, endless powder turns down Vantage, week long trips, early mornings, touring bindings, again, and again. We wanted it all. But from then on we'd go with touring bindings, warm bags and more time. And we'd go again and again, just because that naughty critter from the woods always has her way.