By the time we finished watching "Fight Club" it was already 11:30 . . . with the spring ahead time flip: 12:30. I had agreed to meet Matt and Bob at 0700-ish at the HRM lot. This meant a turnaround that would virtually guarantee a splitter in the morning. We weren't even out of beer yet.
We had graduated our single bed in the hole to the upstairs, and Jon racked on the floor with full host of Never-Rest pads. He woke up with a piece of re-bar in his neck.
"Guess I could have slept on the couch."
Hooked up with Todd after doing a couple of laps around his neighboorhood - trying to find his house in the dark. There was already a light dusting of snow on the ground before we got to Welches, which is nice. Couple of good van light-pole-mash and 4-Runner-rollover scenes on the way up to keep the driving honest. Finally met Matt and Bob at the entrance to the HRM lot. The plows had just done a pass into the lot and we found the Nordic Center lot already cleared. Peeks of blue and sun were beginning to show after an overnight snowfall of about a foot of new.
| Jon hiking up the Heather Canyon runnout - pre-squall (note that the creature can see his shadow) |
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| Matt, Bob, and Todd breakin' trail |
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After hiking for about 15-20 minutes another squall moved in starting as light snow and increasing in intensity. By the time we reached the base of the Heather lift the wind-tunnel effect of the lower canyon was hammering us pretty hard and it was, in Matt's estimation, "pretty much full conditions."
Already the avy bells were going off a bit when we started up slope toward the top of Pea Gravel Ridge. We all made it up to a clump of trees about 1/4 of the way up whereupon debate and then consensus was reached . . . back off. There was evidence of lots of 6-10 inch natural releases on many aspects and the traverse we had just done felt really hollow. We got in a few choice turns on the retreat and made our way back to about the base of the Heather Canyon lift.
| Some post-bailing turns off Pea-Gravel. Wind transported snow still whipping around pretty hard. |
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| Todd feeling the freshness on the bail-out maneuver. |
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| The squall relents as we head down canyon - Beefy lenticular off the summit in the background built up by NE wind |
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At this point the choice was try another aspect up to Newton Creek, call it a day entirely, or go for a salvage. After more debate and hand-wringing, Bob nailed the obvious solution . . . our salvage was right behind us: ski the trees in Jack's Woods.
| Todd, Matt, and Bob post-hand-wringing. Clouds still streaming off the summit. |
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We could hear the patrollers at Meadows doing control work all morning but didn't think that the Canyon would open, and if it did, not for quite a while. Enough time to get in a few laps in there anyway.
Bob started up, setting a track in this deep stuff . . . there was easily 13-15 inches of new snow in here.
| Bob and Jon setting the uptrack in Jack's |
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| Jaw-boning before the drop-in. (Quality of the day obviously being directly proportional to the amount of jaw-boning.) |
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We all traded leads and made the ridge in pretty short order. Bob introduced us to "Sucker Bowl" and we all pretty much followed Bob's line down back into the Canyon . . . Warren Miller-style. The snow was choice. I managed to auger in into the deep on a couple of occasions after getting a little too into the front seat. The grins were plentiful on the regroup at the bottom. A brilliant salvage.
| Jon milking the sluffs. |
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| The squall clears - Todd checkin' summit views after lap 1. |
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| Heading down the now groomed cat track to our uptrack for lap 2. |
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We tracked back up for lap #2. Jon and I started down sort of side by side. I stopped at one point to watch Jon struggle like a bug in the deep stuff when to my right I hear this . . . thuh . . . . thuh . . . .THUH . . . THUH . . . . and turn to see Bob FLYING down the shot . . . just totally letting 'em sing in these trees here. He hit a big lifter below and sailed a ways and touched down akimbo with an explosion of snow. By this time I was laughing so hard that I couldn't breathe.
When we were midway up on the queue for lap #3 the hounds had been released upon us. Ski Patrol had dropped the rope at mid-canyon and the Sunday masses were already beginning to stack up for the lift ride back up . . . meaning that our up-track was going to become a shooting gallery in short order.
| Jon topping out for lap #3 - pre-masses entre' |
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We hastily made our way to the top of the ridge, just as a couple of knobs made the traverse to our spot as they screamed for their laggard lost knob to catch up .
"HEY!!!! OVER HERE!!!!!!!! C'MON!!!!!!! HEY!!!! OVER HERE!!!!!!!! C'MON!!!!!!!" . . . . ad naus . . . .
Matt's blast was blistering: "Do you think you guys can turn the solitude back up?? I CAN'T HEAR IT ANYMORE."
Bob made a frenetic dash to his choice line on the day: 1st tracks on a fall line right under the Heather lift. I stopped and grabbed a photog of Bob on his way down, and about 5 seconds after snapping it, heard the whoops rise from the people on the lift thru the trees behind me. Bob had obviously snagged his line.
| Bob earnin' the centerfold on lap #3. |
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Jon had made his way further over skiers left and I couldn't see him anymore. He would inform us later that he had found his own personal Xanadu in some lifetime deep stuff over there. I started down behind Bob and did my best spoon of his line as the snow billowed over my dome on turn after turn.
We regrouped at the bottom and were agreed. This salvage was indeed way more than slightly above average.
| Jon doin' the "Texas-Tuck" on the outrun below God's Wall on the exit. |
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