My Skiing Autobiography Part Three

So, the final portion of my story so far begins in somber fashion.  I was nursing a surgically repaired knee and able to do very little for at least 5 months.  Aggressive skiing would take at least 8 months and a knee brace.  However, I had already made plans to study in New Zealand for "Summer" and I knew I needed to do whatever I could to make the best of it.

One of the first things I did was to get involved in the University of Canterbury tramping club.   UC had a specific club for just about every specific outdoor sport, whereas DU just had one Alpine Club. Seeing as I could not ski, the tramping club seemed to fit the bill.  Also, given the Kiwi's expanded definition of tramping I was even able to start working on climbing skills.  One of the first trips of the southern hemisphere winter was the club's annual 'Snow Craft' trip where they instructed beginning alpinists in the basics of using ice axes and crampons.  We were taught to self-arrest, keep our crampons on, and even how to dig a snow cave to spend the night in.  The first day we spent hiking up the Temple Basin Club Ski Area before crossing into the backcountry.  The next day a short climb rewarded us with amazing views of Arthur's Pass National Park.  We also did a mock avalanche rescue scenario. 

Top of our Climb During the SnowCraft Trip

Later, I signed up for a more advanced trip up to an over-2700m peak called Mt. Taylor, the highest in the Canterbury Foothills.  However, bad weather made us call the trip off.  In the spring, though, I would drag my two non-climbing friends halfway up, spend the night in an abandoned box, and do a solo-ascent in the morning.  In that way, I achieved the highest elevation of all the American climbers down there during our five month stay.  The views were also quite inspiring.

Raising my Ice Axe when I am over 2700 m

Just for fun and a bit of excitement, many of us did the Nevis Bungee Jump while we were down there.  The jump plummets you 134m or about 435 feet.

Myself doing the Nevis Bungee Jump

Getting back to the United States ended up being a good thing because the winter of 2011 turned out to be one of the best on record.  With snow falling seemingly every weekend, I became highly motivated to go skiing, despite the pain in my knee. Still, I had to strike a balance between days on the mountain and days in the gym trying to improve my knee and overall fitness.  Three days skiing and three days working out seemed to be the correct balance, leaving one day to rest and complete schoolwork.  The biggest struggle was finding friends who wanted to explore the backcountry.  That is where Sean Kelly came in; he and I put in a number of days exploring Loveland and Berthoud Passes, sometimes with penultimate DU ski bum Zach Paley.  With only one dangerous avalanche incident, we both learned a lot that season.

Sean looking tough after a hike at Loveland Pass

Then there was a spring break trip to Tahoe with two non-backcountry friends that still proved to be one of the most fruitful spring ski trips I have ever been on.  After winning enough money in a poker game to pay for the trip, the Tahoe area went through a two feet of snow every other day cycle, and meeting up with Tahoe Local Legend, the Mono-Maniac made for a fantastic trip to NorthStar, Alpine Meadows, and Squaw. With college week discounted tickets of $39, all this made that Spring Break truly awesome.

The one 40+' hit in the NorthStar Side-country, found by the Mono-Maniac.

 Eventually, though, it became clear that since it was snowing so much throughout 2011, that in-bounds terrain was where it was at.  The East Wall at Arapahoe Basin was very much a "go" all spring, with many lines to choose from that might not exist during a normal year.  This was when I hooked up with ex-ski racer turned freestyler Scot Chrisman.  Scot wanted to prepare for FreeSki competitions the next season so I began showing him around the steepest in-bounds skiing that Summit County had to offer.  We had a few excellent weekends of pushing each other until disaster struck.  I let my pride get a hold of me and I chose a line that was probably no longer in reasonable condition and skied it too aggressively, especially given my bad knee.  I whacked my pole, and pointed it into the chute, but lost it with too much speed on the second turn coming out it.  I tomahawked through a boulder field and ended up crushing and dislocating my right shoulder.  Another season was ended, but at least I would definitely be in shape by the start of the next.  Scot also did an excellent job helping me get to the patrol-shack and then the Frisco emergency room.

Myself pointing it through the chute, and to the E.R.

After the surgery, my shoulder hurt for months, but I knew it was supposed to be good by ski season.  Thus, the question became finding a way to get fit for backcountry skiing in the coming season.  Hence, I managed to do some summer mountaineering training by taking on a route from Loveland Pass, 11,991', all the way to Gray's Peak.  The route starts by quickly taking you up to over 12,000 feet from Loveland.   Then, it takes you up and over 13,900 feet Grizzly Peak and then you descend again.  Then you head immediately up Torrey's peak which stands at  14,275' tall.  This is the only part of the trail where you will see multiple other people.  Then, from the summit you descend about two thousand feet  and then head up Gray's Peak which stands at 14, 278'.  The views are spectacular from both summits but if you left your car at Loveland Pass you do not have much time to linger, you have to go back the way you came before darkness sets in.  I made it back to my car, almost unable to stand, in less than six hours and forty-five minutes, a time which I was very satisfied with.  The route contained almost 11 miles and 11,000 feet of vertical elevation change.  This was a big confidence builder in my fitness, which would be tested as soon as I visited Bellingham again in December 2011.

I also decided that the time had come for some August skiing.  I went out looking for some skiing on the St. Mary's Glacier but ended up finding a steep snowfield on the 13'er Mt. Bancroft.  It took some scrambling and a few hours of hiking, but I was able to link together well over 10 turns on the snowfield, making it very much worth the effort.

The snowfield off of Mt. Bancroft's saddle, August turns are always good.

The next ski season officially started for me with an AIARE Level 1 Class led by Renaissance Adventure Guides, but it was not an adequate warm up for the North Cascades Adventure that I was in for.  I came to Bellingham expecting a 10 day hut trip.  When I got there the reality was that Louie, Zach and I were going to immediately go for an ascent of El Dorado Peak.  This is a peak so tremendous in its views and so out of the way that it ranks on North America's list of 50 Classic Ski Descents.

After camping one night in the snow-covered parking lot, we bushwhacked our way up to the start of the glacier where we camped again for the night.  We woke up for an alpine start and started to carefully make our way across the glacier.  We only roped up for one extended session of glacier with Louie in the lead and Zach in the rear, thus providing the optimum level of protection for the least experienced person in the group, myself,  However, this did mean that I had to race to keep up with Louie's normal skinning pace.

Once we reached the final ascent of glacier, we unroped and switched to crampons.  This we would do on our own - although still in sight of each other.  The final hundred meters of the ascent proved trickier.  Normally snow covers the cornice making it an "exhilarating walk to the summit".   However, we were ascending in early winter conditions and there was no snow coverage, just a bare summit.  We would have to actually climb to the summit.  There was a short debate about roping up and placing some ice screw, but the possibility of the cornice breaking, especially if one member fell, seemed to ill-thought out.  We would climb this individually, each member of the group going on their own spiritual journey to and back from the summit.

The slopes were icy, the chance of self-arrest on either side seemed next to impossible.

The views were incredible and vertigo inducing.  They say it is not the fear of falling but the fear of letting go, and I very much agree.

We all made it though and were rewarded with a very icy but unique and beautiful descent.

Shredding Ice on the way down El Dorado

Not difficult, even exhausted, to smile when the world is so beautiful.

Later that week, we did manage to make it out to the Tenquille Lake Hut outside Pemberton BC.  It takes some effort to get to, but it is beautiful, the hut is newer, and the chance for powder is high.

Getting some Power near Tenquille Lake Hut in Canada after the El Dorado Trip

When I got back to Denver in January of 2012, after such an exciting winter break, I ran into a bit of a problem.  Whereas the winter of 2011 had set records for large amounts of snow, the winter of 2012 was setting records for the astounding lack of snow.  Also, the snowpack was touchy, low, and altogether dangerous for nearly the entire season.  It was difficult to find people who wanted to ride in-bound, much less the backcountry.    Even somewhat experienced people were getting nervous with that year's unusually dangerous and touchy snowpack.  Fortunately, there was still another trip to Silverton to get on, which once again I got a spot for via a raffle.  The Lord works in mysterious ways but he seems to have wanted me to go to Silverton.  This time three of us, including myself, would spring to spend the extra bucks to ride on the magic carpet -excuse me, the helicopter.

The group meets halfway to the Billboafd in order to drop into Rope Dee 2

The Silverton Magic Carpet

Cody drops into to Pyramid Peak after his (and my) magic carpet ride.

A Taos Snowboard Instructor makes the creamy Spring Snow look just like butter.

Myself racing out of the couloir in the center.   This run is reached by hiking past the Billboard

I spent spring break, when the snow was almost gone, taking AIARE Level Two, this time with Alpine Ascents International.  Although the snow was not great for skiing, it was great snow for taking snow tests and analyzing the snow, given the oddness of the snowpack.  We were able to run all sorts of tests beyond just the normal compression tests, and they all factored in our decision-making process.  Our guide Colin Mitchell even got the CAIC to make some changes in their forecast for the following day.  When I met the head guide Markus Beck the next day, he told me that 2012 was a much better year to take avalanche classes and learn, rather than to go skiing.

Members of our group work on an Extended Saw Test while our Guide stands close by during Avalanche 2

However, I still wanted to go skiing and I began pushing the limits by myself at places I knew, such as Loveland Pass.  I dropped over the next ridge so no one would follow me and found this gem of a couloir. Almost nothing else was holding snow but these steep, North-East face pitches, and this couloir had the benefit of having tall rock walls to cover it.  I measured the highest pitch at 48 degrees and gave it a go.  It was actually quite fun and it temporarily took away my frustration at the climate to have skied a steep, narrow pitch.  I am still not sure of its name.

The unnamed Couloir to the South of Loveland Pass that I would ski

Despite having taken AIARE Levels 1 & 2, during which I learned a lot, and my helicopter drop at Silverton Mountain, I was discouraged for much of the 2012 season.  The season had never came together for even decent in-bounds riding, and it had never done the same for long extended backcountry descents.  After the trip up El Dorado and the following Canadian hut trip, I began to wonder what was going wrong - *ahem* climate change.  However, I did manage to put together one last grande ski descent.  This occurred after school ended for me and I had some time before graduation.  I left Denver and headed out into the mountains to push my solo-skiing - something I do not normally recommend - but that I had been doing all season.  First, I rode the 13'er Mt. Sniktau crossing above where the 2013 Sheep Creek Avalanche killed five experienced riders.  My confidence now higher I decided that I had to give Mt. Quandary a try.  Mt. Quandary  is 14,271 and was one of the few mountains I had to turn back on when I was with the University of Denver Alpine Club in May of 2011.  There was only one route on the North East face still holding snow, the seldom climbed Quandary Couloir.

The Mountain Hardware Bivy Sack I had been using to sleep outside my car.  It worked quite well for one person, set-up and folded up easily and was light if it needed to be carried.

Climbing conditions were tough and I had to often resort to climbing the ice clinging to the side of the rock with my crampons and using rock hand-holds with one hand and an ice axe in another.  A lot of signs, including the rapidly increasing temperature, were telling me to turn back, but I was having so much fun getting a mixed climb in on a 14'er that I kept going.  Eventually, I got to the top where I saw people who had ascended via the class 1 trail looking quizzically at my gear, so knowing my time was limited I returned to my skis.  I strapped in and dropped in for one of the more challenging descents of my life.  However, I made it safely down, and quickly returned to the car, taking in the fact that I had skied my first 14'er solo, on a medium-tough route, in bad conditions.  I still have dreams, good ones, about that day.

The Quandary Couloir in the first week of June 2012, not much snow left, but enough for a radical descent!

At that point, I was done skiing for the summer, until I was not, thanks to South America Snow Sessions and Snow Global Travel.

After my graduation from the University of Denver, I began to work at company that sold stone - literally rocks in various shapes and sizes - mostly for landscaping.  It was an agonizingly boring job, the hours were long, and pay was low.  There were no benefits to speak of.  Hence, by mid-July I was done and put in my two weeks notice.  The first thing I did was call up Travis Moore to see if I could pick up that last spot on the Argentina trip their website had been talking about.  He said he would bump me up the waiting list to get me that spot, and we decided that I had the finances for the ten-day adult session with a slight discount for having heard about SASS at a college presentation.  So, I was on for SASS.  I had been training hard at the climbing gym for months but now at home I started adding in leg work.  I put both my skis on a foam roller, grabbed my poles, clipped myself into my bindings, and put on my favorites ski movies, all to practice leg strength and balance.

I also went back and picked up my dear old job delivering sandwiches for Lenny's Sub Shop because I figured they would not miss me too much for a week-and-half sabbatical to Argentina.  Once the arrangements were made it just became a matter of packing.  I spent over a week packing for the trip. Did I need to bring my light-set of touring skis, did I need to bring my ice axe or a rope?  Fortunately, I did not need to bring most of those things, because nearly all of the other clients would not have them.  All one really needed was skis or board and their normal equipment, in addition to a beacon, shovel, and probe.  However, if one really wanted to get out there they could bring a touring set-up, skins, adjustable poles, and perhaps a whippet.  I ended up just bringing my heavy touring set-up because it was also my main powder set-up (Marker Dukes mounted on Surface Skis).  I actually ended up selling those skis to an Argentine man who very much wanted the Dukes for a lot of American money.  This was both fortunate for me and not that uncommon, although the fact that he had so much American cash in Argentine was less common.  I used the money back in the states to get a new pure powder set-up without touring bindings as I had my light mountaineering set-up for that.

The bunks we stayed in were not four star, but were quite nice for South America.  The housekeeping and other staff were very trustworthy.  I at one point became worried about some cards that had fallen from my wallet only to find them stacked neatly by my bunk at the end of the day.  It was easy to become friends with roommates as Lucas Moore had analyzed us for compatibility very rapidly.

The Bunks at the Lodge for SASS Travelers

After a couple days of sorting out groups based on hiking speed, riding ability, and also desire for adventure we started to tackle bigger and gnarlier terrain.

Myself coming out of a line called the 'Whale' with Coach Tony still in the Belly riding it out

This was the final epic run as after this the weather turned to rain and wind for the last two days (which was still enjoyable hanging out with the coaches in the on-slope bars).  With the choke point and the spine below the rocks you cannot see, I have to say this is one of the best runs I have ever had the opportunity to ski.  Plus, we were not even finished - we hiked back up the saddle and did another great run down the opposing side until the sun started effecting the snow and we hiked up again to take the trail back to the resort.

Looking down into an unnamed couloir our group would drop into

A photo I took of Robin Van Gyn and Nikki Schletka and Gabriel Ciaffre shredding down the far face of the valley.

After the trip it was difficult to process things back in the states.  Everyone had pushed themselves over such a short period of time.  It was difficult to focus at work, which for me was delivering food.  I kept trying to push myself at the climbing gym  Eventually, though, on a day when I had already pushed too much, I took an awkward fall bouldering and definitely tore something in my right knee.  After a few days of rest I started physical therapy and was able to get back to work while wearing a brace.  I managed to ski a few days, even did two trips down to Silverton during unguided season and a trip home to ski Schweitzer but the brace was not doing the trick.

When I was skiing back to the car with a friend at Taos a mogul did me in.  I saw another physical therapist  in Denver who told me to see a doctor.  We called my surgeon from back home and he ordered an MRI.  The results were that I had no more ACL and would need another graft to ever function athletically again.  Thanks be to the Lord that we had this relationship with my surgeon that he was able to schedule me as soon as possible.  I had my second patellar tendon graft, this time on my right leg.  However, my surgeon told me that the second recovery goes faster and easier.  The surgery took a lot out of me mentally, but physically I was able to attack my PT with more abandon.  As I sit and write this, although I still would not enter a sprinting race and I would wear a brace skiing, I am altogether very confident in the strength of the surgical graft that he has performed on both my knees.  I am looking forward to climbing and skiing again very soon.