I was originally going to let today's events settle a little while before I can gather myself to describe it in detail, but I now figure it would be better to get my thoughts and experiences out on paper while the day remains very fresh.
Today was supposed to be amazing, epic, top 10 day of the year, holy shit deep ... (insert more cliche` adjectives at your leisure). Reports were strong that over 2 feet had fallen in the Vail Pass area throughout Wednesday. We were supposed to have the superb day. But we didn't. It was very much the COMPLETE opposite of everything that we knew it would be. There was no hope involved with knowing how sickly deep it was to be. All planets were in full alignment and myself along with my usual partner Gary and two newcomers (Adam and Josh), set out to enjoy the 2+ feet of newly fallen snow.
But we didn't.
We had a journey.
A journey that went well beyond what we had anticipated.
It was a journey that tested every ounce of desire and determination we had.
It tested how much agony, frustration, and pain we could endure.
It tested how well we could keep a level head and constructively find the best solutions to the many problems we had encounter.
Today was a test unlike any in recent time. If you look back to some ski adventures I've posted here, you might recall the trips to Mount Shavano and Mount Democrat. Those trips also had a hidden agenda. One went so far to see if I could do a twelve-mile trip in alpine boots while ascending over 5,000 vertical feet while the other wanted to make sure I could climb up a 35-38 degree scree field that gained 1,000 feet.
What did today seek out to discover?
That me and my partners could dodge very reactive new snowfall (read: avalanches ... many of them) and that we could navigate our way back to civilization while trekking through 3-4 feet (yes, that's not a typo) of snow. While that might not seem so bad-ass and challenging, perhaps I can't get the proper words to illustrate how happy and fortunate that I'm here laying in the comfort of my bed while writing this right now. Perhaps a better way to translate our misadventures regarding how deep the snow was would be to tell you to get to the beach and bury yourself up and above your waist in sand. Then see how well you mobility is. If not near a beach, I'm sure this vision won't be hard to imagine.
Need a better idea of what went down?
It took us almost 3 hours to descend just a couple hundred feet.
Yep ... that ain't a typo either.
Let me state again ...
It took us almost 3 hours to descend just a couple hundred feet.
Now you should understand that traveling in deep snow with skis on (or via bootpacking as my snowboarding friends attempted at times) is not an easy endeavor. I think I would have rather been back on that scree field on Democrat. Hell, the 6-hour or so slog out of Shavano might have been more fun.
Today was not fun.
It was however, an experience and one that I'll remember for as long as I live and I truly could not have been with better people to help guide and educate me through it.
Today was supposed to be amazing, epic, top 10 day of the year, holy shit deep ... (insert more cliche` adjectives at your leisure). Reports were strong that over 2 feet had fallen in the Vail Pass area throughout Wednesday. We were supposed to have the superb day. But we didn't. It was very much the COMPLETE opposite of everything that we knew it would be. There was no hope involved with knowing how sickly deep it was to be. All planets were in full alignment and myself along with my usual partner Gary and two newcomers (Adam and Josh), set out to enjoy the 2+ feet of newly fallen snow.
But we didn't.
We had a journey.
A journey that went well beyond what we had anticipated.
It was a journey that tested every ounce of desire and determination we had.
It tested how much agony, frustration, and pain we could endure.
It tested how well we could keep a level head and constructively find the best solutions to the many problems we had encounter.
Today was a test unlike any in recent time. If you look back to some ski adventures I've posted here, you might recall the trips to Mount Shavano and Mount Democrat. Those trips also had a hidden agenda. One went so far to see if I could do a twelve-mile trip in alpine boots while ascending over 5,000 vertical feet while the other wanted to make sure I could climb up a 35-38 degree scree field that gained 1,000 feet.
What did today seek out to discover?
That me and my partners could dodge very reactive new snowfall (read: avalanches ... many of them) and that we could navigate our way back to civilization while trekking through 3-4 feet (yes, that's not a typo) of snow. While that might not seem so bad-ass and challenging, perhaps I can't get the proper words to illustrate how happy and fortunate that I'm here laying in the comfort of my bed while writing this right now. Perhaps a better way to translate our misadventures regarding how deep the snow was would be to tell you to get to the beach and bury yourself up and above your waist in sand. Then see how well you mobility is. If not near a beach, I'm sure this vision won't be hard to imagine.
Need a better idea of what went down?
It took us almost 3 hours to descend just a couple hundred feet.
Yep ... that ain't a typo either.
Let me state again ...
It took us almost 3 hours to descend just a couple hundred feet.
Now you should understand that traveling in deep snow with skis on (or via bootpacking as my snowboarding friends attempted at times) is not an easy endeavor. I think I would have rather been back on that scree field on Democrat. Hell, the 6-hour or so slog out of Shavano might have been more fun.
Today was not fun.
It was however, an experience and one that I'll remember for as long as I live and I truly could not have been with better people to help guide and educate me through it.
► The pictures:
We saw a couple snowmobilers brapping it up in the very light snow (2-3% perhaps?):
Then we got to hike in it:
Then we got to test out how stable it was:
Here's Adam performing a Rutschblock test:
If you click on the link I embedded, you'll understand what the test entails. With at least three feet of new snow in the area in less than 24 hours, we were quite certain the top layer would not bond well to the preexisting layers underneath. As predicted, this new snow did not pass the 2nd part of the test. But, the remaining hard slab underneath survived past the 7th stage and we then proceeded with caution.
With the first turn on our first lap down, Adam ignited an avalanche while ski cutting across a steep rollover that ran the same three feet in depth as the new snow. As stated above, we knew this would happen but were comfortable knowing exactly how much would slide and how soft it was. The slide was 50-100 feet wide (I didn't get a good look) and occurred on a NE-facing slope at 40+ degrees. Josh was next and the same thing happened with an avalanche starting as he cut across the top. Gary soon followed down with no immediate danger present, and I traversed skier's right about twenty feet and found myself something small to jump off of. Unfortunately, I was buried up to my neck upon impact.
Two visuals of the first slide:
A little further down, I again found myself buried deep:
While Josh found something to snowboard through:
And Adam got a courtesy call to the white room:
Here's a super short video from the day:
Vail Pass (2009.01.08) from Thomas Armento on Vimeo.
► The end:
After ascending a second time, we made plans to ski a spinish area which should prove to be rather safe and provide a decent run down without any flat benches to slow us down as in the previous run. We couldn't have been more wrong. While just thirty to forty feet away, our very presence remotely set off another avalanche (the forth on the day) with the exact same outcome as the first two (the third one was also triggered remotely forty to fifty feet below us on the bottom portion of our first lap).
We then decided to bag any idea of skiing anything more and attempted to make our way down quickly.
Again, by quickly, I mean over three hours.
Being on fat skis, I was appropriately asked to pave the way for the other three snowboarders to follow. Even on 30 degree slopes, momentum could not be gained in such a way that would allow me to float atop the deep snow. Frustration grew increasingly more prevalent as our trip down back to Black Lakes became apparently neverending.
There were very brief moments of hope that we would come across a slope steep enough to propel us to the bottom in a rather timely manner, but on a day when everything went wrong, it continued as such. As mentioned before, the traverse out was the very essence of suckage, and here's some photographic evidence:
This about sums it up perfectly:
At around 7pm, we finally made our way back to the parking lot at Vail Pass with enlightenment soon settling in and trying its best to clear our mind from the raging chaos that controlled most of the day. On a day with very few positives, one thing remains certain ... every day for the rest of the season will now seem like paradise.
To view more pictures and in larger size, please click here.
► Words to remember:
"But neither life nor happiness can be achieved by the pursuit of irrational whims. Just as man is free to attempt to survive in any random manner, but will perish unless he lives as his nature requires, so he is free to seek his happiness in any mindless fraud, but the torture of frustration is all he will find, unless he seeks the happiness proper to man. The purpose of morality is to teach you, not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live."
- Ayn Rand
Then we got to hike in it:
Then we got to test out how stable it was:
Here's Adam performing a Rutschblock test:
If you click on the link I embedded, you'll understand what the test entails. With at least three feet of new snow in the area in less than 24 hours, we were quite certain the top layer would not bond well to the preexisting layers underneath. As predicted, this new snow did not pass the 2nd part of the test. But, the remaining hard slab underneath survived past the 7th stage and we then proceeded with caution.
With the first turn on our first lap down, Adam ignited an avalanche while ski cutting across a steep rollover that ran the same three feet in depth as the new snow. As stated above, we knew this would happen but were comfortable knowing exactly how much would slide and how soft it was. The slide was 50-100 feet wide (I didn't get a good look) and occurred on a NE-facing slope at 40+ degrees. Josh was next and the same thing happened with an avalanche starting as he cut across the top. Gary soon followed down with no immediate danger present, and I traversed skier's right about twenty feet and found myself something small to jump off of. Unfortunately, I was buried up to my neck upon impact.
Two visuals of the first slide:
A little further down, I again found myself buried deep:
While Josh found something to snowboard through:
And Adam got a courtesy call to the white room:
Here's a super short video from the day:
Vail Pass (2009.01.08) from Thomas Armento on Vimeo.
► The end:
After ascending a second time, we made plans to ski a spinish area which should prove to be rather safe and provide a decent run down without any flat benches to slow us down as in the previous run. We couldn't have been more wrong. While just thirty to forty feet away, our very presence remotely set off another avalanche (the forth on the day) with the exact same outcome as the first two (the third one was also triggered remotely forty to fifty feet below us on the bottom portion of our first lap).
We then decided to bag any idea of skiing anything more and attempted to make our way down quickly.
Again, by quickly, I mean over three hours.
Being on fat skis, I was appropriately asked to pave the way for the other three snowboarders to follow. Even on 30 degree slopes, momentum could not be gained in such a way that would allow me to float atop the deep snow. Frustration grew increasingly more prevalent as our trip down back to Black Lakes became apparently neverending.
There were very brief moments of hope that we would come across a slope steep enough to propel us to the bottom in a rather timely manner, but on a day when everything went wrong, it continued as such. As mentioned before, the traverse out was the very essence of suckage, and here's some photographic evidence:
This about sums it up perfectly:
At around 7pm, we finally made our way back to the parking lot at Vail Pass with enlightenment soon settling in and trying its best to clear our mind from the raging chaos that controlled most of the day. On a day with very few positives, one thing remains certain ... every day for the rest of the season will now seem like paradise.
To view more pictures and in larger size, please click here.
► Words to remember:
"But neither life nor happiness can be achieved by the pursuit of irrational whims. Just as man is free to attempt to survive in any random manner, but will perish unless he lives as his nature requires, so he is free to seek his happiness in any mindless fraud, but the torture of frustration is all he will find, unless he seeks the happiness proper to man. The purpose of morality is to teach you, not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live."
- Ayn Rand
7 comments:
Jeesus dude, that sucks. All that snow and do dangerous to do anything steep enough to keep moving. Ah well, lessons learned, still a day in the hills. Glad you guys made it home safe.
You forgot to mention the icing on the cake. Adam's truck being plowed in behind 4 feet of snow by the jerk plowing the parking lot. That was an awesome end to an awesome day...
How could I forget? Just when we thought we were well in the clear once we arrived back to the parking area, we get a nice present from forest services. I think it's safe to say that we keep all Vail Pass consideration at bay whenever there's more than 18" new.
Quote of the day, as heard around 5:00 PM: "I'd rather be hiking 12 miles up Shavano in alpine boots than be in this shit!"
As if the day couldn't get any worse, when Josh and I made it to Good Times in Silverthorne for some grub, my truck door was jammed so I forced it open and broke off the handle! Then later, less than 200 feet from the safety of my house, I tripped on a sidewalk joint, scraped up my hands and knees, and fell face first in dog poo. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried!
OMG Adam! I about fell out of my chair laughing at that. That really sucks dude.
haha, ah man, sounds like it was a memorable day. any interest in a CB backcountry trip in mid-feb?
dave
Shavano sucked, 12 miles and 5000ft up that shit slag pile, never again for me...but this looks like it sucked even more, wow. Awesome pictures though for sure.
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