hello snow Mood: celebratory Topic: snowboarding
snow began to fall yesterday but quickly faded to rain. told my roommate it would be snowing by the time he woke up today. still raining when I awoke, but about 20 minutes after I got to work the temperature dropped and snow returned. It's been snowing for almost 3 hours now and IT'S STICKING TO THE ROAD. I don't know if my roommate is awake yet, but I definitely won this one.
it appears that the raymer webplot is not current - i imagine it's a bit early for that but I had to check. the temperature at the top of JHMR hasn't risen above freezing, though, so it's a good bet that all the rain in the valley overnight was snow up there. Apparently someone is clearing mid-mountain because at 8:30 this morning the interval snowfall changed from 8 inches to zero.... and now it's back up to 1. So it looks like 9 new inches today at MID, which means possibly a foot or more at the top. Got snowshoes? I won't be surprised to see people hiking the king this afternoon.
in other news, i ordered a new snowboard helmet and it arrived yesterday. woo hoo! already you know way more than you need to about my life.
Mood: chillin' Topic: skateboarding
still waiting for the snow - masonite and concrete help fill the emptiness. huge competition today at the park, which i missed, but the aftermath was predictable - lots of kids still there and four4 spinning. slowly but steadily i improve with a little helpful advice from my friends.
interesting. i can't imagine anyone would find this interesting. i'd ask why i'm doing this, but i'm not feeling particularly existentialist right now. i'm just repeating big words i heard on the sappy prime time shows i repeatedly watch.
Backcountry camp diary - Not hardcore enough Mood: caffeinated Topic: shred report
8:30 AM Sunday
After two intense days of riding, working two jobs, and sleeping about 3 hours, I was pretty exhausted, but a double cappuccino later I was raring to go. Our original plan was to meet at the Tram at 8:30, but due to 50 mph winds at the summit, the Tram opening was delayed. We meandered back to the meeting room and discussed our options. We also took a quiz the guides had downloaded from the internet about basic avalanche safety. It was relatively simple due to our snowpit adventure the previous day.
By 9:30 the Tram still was not open. All weekend the guides had been telling us that the most important part of backcountry travel is to be flexible with the plan. Weather, conditions, and snowpack often change without warning, and adaptation crucial. We decided to take the gondola and hike up Headwall, possibly to ride Casper Bowl. As we were gathering our equipment, the announcement came over the radio that the Tram had just opened. Our plans quickly changed again.
We stopped at Corbet’s Cabin to discuss our new plan of attack. With the windy conditions, Cody Bowl was out of the question. We decided to traverse and hike two bowls over, to Big Piney or Four Pines. When one of the guides noticed I was practically falling asleep on my backpack, she pulled me aside to ask how I was feeling. She told me to really think hard and trust my instincts, because once we were out of bounds it would be several hours before I’d have the opportunity to change my mind. I thought about it, and once I stepped outside and breathed in the fresh, cold air, I decided I would be fine. Five minutes later, I realized I had made a mistake.
Traversing across windblown, exposed terrain on a snowboard is challenging enough. Add wind blowing directly at you, and the difficulty of maintaining speed is amplified. I made it about halfway over to the boundary gate before I had to unstrap and hike. I hiked less than 50 yards, but the entire group had already continued out of bounds before I even made it to the gate. Two of the guides were waiting to make sure I wasn’t lost, and once I made it around the corner out of the wind, the snow was phenomenal. I, however, was not.
Anyone who knows me knows that I have never been one to accept my physical limitations. One season I rode with an aircast inside my boot for 3 months because I refused to let a sprained ankle prevent me from snowboarding. I’ve never taken a sled down the hill; I always rode injured, and I usually took a few more runs before admitting that I was in pain. Although I realize such stubbornness is not healthy, it was always my body and my decision, and I was the only one affected. This time was different.
Group dynamics with 10 people can be challenging enough without waiting for a straggler who should have been better prepared for physical exertion. Since we were still in bounds, I told the guides to have a great day without me. They suggested I take a few warm up runs and meet them for lunch, or possibly take a nap and meet them later. I’ve been living in my body long enough to know that I’d be fast asleep long before they finished their first run. I did attempt a few runs from the lifts, which confirmed my hunch, before returning the backcountry equipment they had lent me to the ski school building and driving home for some much needed rest.
Although the guides assured me that they would take me out another day, it was still a huge disappointment to desert the group without even saying goodbye. I imagine the snow was great on leeward slopes where the wind had transported it, but I know that some of the areas I would have hiked were windy and hard packed, with exposed rocks and hazards. The most important thing when travelling in the backcountry is to be flexible, and sometimes that means deciding it is safer NOT to travel in the backcountry. If avalanche dangers are high, or a sudden snowstorm catches you off guard, the decision to hike back to safety instead of insisting on taking one run (just because that’s what you were planning to do and you already hiked for half an hour) may be your wisest option. Even if I had defied my exhaustion and made it to the top of the ridge, halfway down I might not have had the energy to maintain my concentration and control my board. Injury is just as threatening as an avalanche when you’re miles from help. I know my decision was best, not only for me, but for the rest of the group as well. There will be other days to enjoy the terrain out of bounds. And I know I will be here to enjoy them. That’s what really matters.
Backcountry camp diary - A journey on Teton Pass Mood: irritated
9:30 AM Saturday
Due to the lack of snowfall Friday night (and the fact that my season pass allows me to ride in bounds any day of the week,) I decided to forego the early morning run and spend the time looking for better binding options. One of my biggest challenges the previous day had been the fact that all the other snowboarders were using step-in bindings, while I have really old, pieced together with spare parts, lowback strap-ins. I found a great pair of Salomons and decided to demo them for the remainder of the weekend.
At 9:30-ish the group reconvened for a brief discussion of snowpacks and what to look for when digging a snowpit. Characteristics of layers of snow, as well as a bit of snow science on consolidation and formation of snowpacks were among the topics we discussed. The plan was to hike South from Teton Pass, dig a pit and analyze the conditions, and ski or ride down. By about 10:30 we were geared up and ready to begin our drive.
In the van ride up Teton Pass, one of our guides pointed out Glory Bowl, the site of one of the avalanche deaths last season. She showed us the line the snowboarder took, and what might have been safer options given the dangers outlined in the avalanche report for that day. We reached the parking area at the top of the pass and began to assemble ourselves for the hike.
I had never used snowshoes before, but there was also a woman in our group who had never used skins, so I wasn’t alone in my naivete. There were also a couple of people on new equipment, such as split boards or new pairs of skis. It’s very important to know your equipment before you go on a tour, because sometimes bindings can be tricky or boards don’t lock together if there is a little bit of snow on them. Nonetheless, we all managed to get everything working, and I discovered that snowshoes are lots of fun. I had considered them a means to an end — a necessary aggravation to get to the top of a steep slope, but I actually enjoyed the hike up almost as much as I enjoyed riding down.
We stopped for lunch near Avalanche Bowl and enjoyed a panoramic view with our meal. We determined that this would be a great place for a group photo and since one of the guys in the group had a camera with a remote, we were able to get all the participants into one shot. After lunch, we hiked a bit further up to a nice shaded slope where we built our snowpit. We did various tests to measure the stability of the snow, and discovered that conditions were ideal for skiing and riding. Almost no slick layers existed in the middle, and even the surface hoar where the snow met the ground was relatively stable. By now it was late afternoon and the shade and inactivity had chilled us greatly, so we were more than ready to head down the mountain.
We were in an area called Bear Claw, with narrow chutes and steep tree areas. This is exactly the type of terrain I tend to seek in bounds, so I was pretty thrilled with our choice, and the snow was creamy and soft. Ordinarily guides limit groups to 5 people or less, but we had ten participants in the camp. Although having this many people may be beneficial in an avalanche rescue situation, it can be extremely frustrating to keep the group together while travelling downhill. For obvious safety reasons, only one person goes at a time, and the stopping point must be visible from the starting point so we couldn’t go far. We did decide to send three people ahead to get the van and bring it down, but the rest of us stayed together. Since we had a good group and everyone was willing to be patient, we completed the tour without much difficulty, but at the bottom it got very flat and all the snowboarders had to unstrap and hike a short distance before we reached the road.
Until I removed my goggles when we reached the van, I hadn’t realized how dark the sky had gotten. By now it was almost 5:30, and the sun is usually down by 6 this time of year. I was grateful for the careful planning by the knowledgeable guides, and could see how sometimes judgement is impaired by the "I just want to get to the bottom NOW" attitude that often causes injuries or avalanches in unfamiliar terrain. When we reached the main road, I realized that we were already in Wilson, and very nearly home. I was exhausted, but I still had to work later that night so I made my way back to my house.
Backcountry camp diary - Venturing out of bounds Mood: energetic
8:30 AM Friday
Today began completely opposite from yesterday. When I arrived at our meeting room, I was the only female, but everyone had a snowboard. Once the entire group had arrived, it was about half and half, on both counts. During our morning pow-wow, we discussed the avalanche forecast, as well as what types of weather and terrain traps we could expect. We also discussed transceivers, as well as the plan of attack for the day. Since some of us did not have shovels, probes, or transceivers, those items were lent to us by the guides. Then we headed up the tram.
After traversing out the gate at the top of the tram, we stopped to familiarize ourselves with our equipment. We split into two groups, and our instructors hid a transceiver so we could practice searching. Luckily, I was not in the group with the sneaky guide who hid one in a tree, but as he pointed out, you never know where an avalanche could deposit you, so it’s completely possible. Besides, at his first avalanche class, an instructor did that to HIM.
We regrouped and headed deeper into the backcountry, but not for long. More guides were stationed a short distance down the mountain with mock avalanche scenarios prepared. Again we split into two groups, and were given the details of an avalanche by the "witness" (our instructor) who told us where the snow had slid, and where the victims were last seen. While most of our group started searching with transceivers, I assembled my probe and shovel and waited to be summoned. Once a signal had been pinpointed, it was my job to use the probe to find the "body". Our group managed to find both "people" within 5 minutes, which is the critical amount of time during which buried victims still have a fighting chance. It was frightening and relieving at the same time, because the procedure was fairly straightforward, but it’s easy to stay calm when your best friend’s life is not in danger. Hopefully we will never have to actually use this part of our training.
Now it was time for some riding. I had worried that the conditions in the backcountry might not be ideal due to the fact that we had not received any snow all week, but to my surprise and delight, the snow was soft and easy to carve through. And of course, most of it was fresh thanks to wind loading. We proceeded down Rock Springs Bowl, stopping often enough to assess the terrain and make sure everyone in our group was keeping up. I found myself somewhere in the middle of the ability level for our half of the group, which was mostly just the snowboarders. At least, I felt that way until I didn’t make it across a flat section and had to hike. Climbing is definitely not my strong point. Luckily, everyone was patient and enjoyed taking a breather. The guides pointed out areas where avalanches had occurred in the past, and how the weather conditions on those days differed from today.
After winding our way through a section of trees, I discovered that I recognized my surroundings. We were at the bottom of the Hobacks! A short cat track and Union Pass Quad ride later, we were back at the base area and ready to break for lunch.
Our afternoon session took us a little farther into the JH backcountry. From the top of the tram we zipped out the upper gate and followed the same general path we had taken that morning. Skiers and snowboarders then split, and the skiers traversed but we rode down a bit farther to a boot track and hiked up to the next ridge. I was post-holing (missing the footsteps and sinking down into the snow) and very off-balance until one of the guides offered me his collapsible poles, which helped enormously. I was no longer tipping over or falling down every five steps, so I easily caught up with the rest of the group.
The guides pointed out the site of an avalanche where a skier was thrown over two cliffs and buried, yet somehow managed to survive. This was also the very first instance anywhere of a successful canine rescue. Then we headed down the Green River area until we found ourselves back at the little track through the woods that led to the Hobacks. For most of the run, the snow was just incredible, and the terrain was a bit steeper and rockier, challenging enough to be exciting without making me uncomfortable. At the end of the run we had a group discussion to decide when and where to meet on Saturday. A few people wanted to take an early Tram run in bounds before heading to the pass. Some others wanted to sleep in. We decided to meet at the Tram at 8:25 for all who wanted to take a quick run, and at 9:30 in the meeting room for those who didn’t.
It was the eve of the registration meeting, and I confess I was a little nervous. I’m not much of a hiker and as a snowboarder I sometimes find it difficult to keep up with skiers while traversing. What if I am the only female and everyone else wants to jump off a 20 foot cornice into a steep chute?
When I arrived at the ski school chalet, I discovered a room full of women. We joked about how it was turning out to be an all-girl clinic, and how we all (including the instructors) had thought it would be the opposite. Apparently guys already know it all and don’t need directions to travel in the backcountry. I started to relax. As it turned out, there were some guys registered for the class, as well as a few male guides. We were given a barrage of avalanche info and an itinerary for the camp. The guides talked to each of us individually about our ability and comfort levels, motivations, and objectives. They reassured us that we would not be forced to attempt anything that made us uncomfortable. I started to feel confident. Then I read the avalanche info.
Reading about backcountry accidents and other peoples’ experiences reminded me why I took this class. I knew just enough to realize that I have no idea how not to panic if caught in or witness to a slide. I wanted to be able to analyze the snowpack and know what a terrain trap looks like. And I wanted someone to show me the "safest" route out of popular Jackson Hole backcountry areas. Not to mention where the 50 foot cliffs are hiding. I was ready for day one.
celebratory
chillin'
caffeinated
irritated
energetic
bright