Skiing Big Mountains & Life's Pleasant Surprises
This is part two of my post on backcountry skiing. Click here for part one.
My alarm went off. It was 2:50 am MST. An unholy hour indeed.
Despite the early wake up call, I was excited by my alarm clock’s greeting in the middle of the night. I was beginning my day to attempt a goal that had been on my mind for an entire year. That goal was to ski Buck Mountain in Grand Teton National Park.
The early wakeup call was necessary because my friend and backcountry guide for the day, Woody, had suggested that we start skiing by 5:00 am. We had six thousand vertical feet to climb and we wanted to start skiing down before the snow became unsafe due to warming. After you factor in enough time to eat as many calories as possible for breakfast, use the bathroom, load the car and then tack on an hour-long drive to the trailhead, you’re looking at an early start to a very big day.
Driving into Teton National Park we hit a traffic jam. A moose was trotting down the road in front of us and was unable to leave the road due to the height of the snowbanks.
The moose eventually found an escape route and we passed by. Shortly after 5:00 am we had our skis on and had begun the long skin into the Tetons. The first 90 minutes of our trek started with headlamps on as we made our way through the pre-dawn morning. The bitter cold caused the snow to crunch under our skins as it had been going through its freeze-thaw cycle that is typical of the early spring.
The rugged tranquility of our early morning ascent was disrupted by a moose suddenly jumping up from his bed for the night. We had woke him up and he was startled. Fortunately, after some initial panic, it didn’t charge us. (I later learned you are statistically more likely to be attacked by a moose than a bear). If the coffee hadn’t kicked in yet, that encounter certainly woke me up.
The silver light of the morning started creeping into the valley as we continued to make our way up through the foothills of the Tetons and I could begin to take in my surroundings. Eventually the gray gave way to the warmer oranges and yellows of the sunrise. It was 7:00 am and we had already been hiking for two hours. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, a welcome sight for the big day ahead.
Throughout that day I thought about how this journey really started one year earlier immediately after I finished my first ski tour in Teton National Park. Woody had planted in my mind that Buck Mountain would be a great big mountain ski mountaineering objective to attempt and I couldn’t stop thinking about getting back. I spent the beginning of that winter skinning up ski hills back home in the northeast and running as much as possible to improve my cardio fitness. Physical preparation is key, but I would soon learn much of the challenge in ski mountaineering is between your ears.
As we broke through the trees and entered the alpine I saw what I believed to be Buck Mountain. It was only 8:30 and my confidence grew as we were making good time. When I mentioned to Woody that it felt good to reach the base of our objective, he smiled and said that it was Static Peak and Buck had not come into view yet. A true false summit.
As I realized we were further away than I thought, I was a little dejected but it was hard to be too upset surrounded by that amazing landscape. We continued to break trail and climb higher and higher into the alpine. Eventually Buck came into view and we could start thinking about the summit. We reached the base of the mountain around 11:00.
At this point we had been climbing for six hours and we still had a two thousand foot boot pack through knee deep snow in front of us. I was already feeling the effects of climbing four thousand feet at elevation. With such a daunting climb in front of us, I knew there was no way I could make it to the summit. But I told myself I would climb as far as I could.
The following three hours would be one of the most challenging physical tests I have ever faced. In addition to the physical demands, the climb was very technical. The boot pack required use of an ice ax and crampons as we ascended rather steep slopes. In some cases I was standing almost vertically with my hands on the snow directly in front of me.
We also needed to climb a ridge that required us to navigate craggy rocks and boulders which introduced an additional layer of complexity I had never encountered before. I recall one instance where I was straddling a boulder with just the tip of my crampons on the rock. Despite Woody’s reassurance that my crampons were designed to maneuver on rock, I wasn’t as convinced. A fall of a hundred or so feet below me would have been catastrophic. After a few moments of hesitation I took a deep breath, transferred my weight and made the giant step to safely pass over the rock. Back to our regularly scheduled program.
The summit grew closer and closer but I also knew we were running short on time. Perhaps the rugged terrain demanded so much of my focus that it had taken my mind off of how exhausted I was because I hadn’t given up yet. I played a game with myself counting down 100 steps at a time between breaks as my heart rate red lined. I may have physically trained my body as well as I could have for this mission, but as we approached twelve thousand feet of elevation I was gasping for every breath.
Nearly eight hours after our mission began we summited Buck Mountain. Surveying the Grand, Middle and South Teton peaks to our north was an extremely rewarding moment. I was grinning ear to ear and relieved the climb was finished. But the adventure wasn’t over, we still had some extremely difficult skiing in front of us.
The upper portion of the east face of Buck is rather steep and a no fall zone. We carefully carved turns into the snow and it was great alpine snow. A decadent reward after all our hard work on the way up. I enjoy hiking and the physical challenge of ski touring as much as the next guy, but I was elated to be enjoying the payoff.
Woody and I slashed turns down the mountain for another hour. As we headed towards the runout near the trailhead I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I was in a stupor like that of runner’s high. The day had been incredibly rewarding, the weather was perfect, and best of all the skiing was fantastic.
As the years wore on I would gain an even greater appreciation for how special that day was. Skiing big mountains requires several complex factors to be in your favor in order to navigate the terrain safely - you need a stable snowpack, agreeable weather conditions and a capable backcountry partner.
The following winter of 2022 I would travel to Banff National Park to attempt a summit of Mount Hector on the Icefields Parkway. Unstable avalanche conditions paired with poor visibility would render traveling in the alpine unsafe. We opted for powder skiing below the tree line instead. I still had a great day in the mountains, but definitely not the same caliber of experience as that day on Buck Mountain.
This past winter, Belinda and I spent the entire month of March in the Tetons. This time offered me a full month for that window of safe conditions and good weather. The record setting snowfall this past winter provided incredible powder skiing, but offered very few opportunities to safely travel up high in the big mountains. I can’t complain as I enjoyed incredible powder turns almost every day and had far and away the best month of skiing in my entire life. The downside was the opportunity never came to knock off one of the high peaks on my ever growing bucket list.
Was I frustrated that I wasn’t able to ski some of the mountains I had been dreaming about for years? Sure. But instead of growing frustrated by the lack of windows that never materialized, I began to truly appreciate those days when everything falls into place.
There is a person my life who likes to quote a refrain that “Life is full of disappointments”. Oftentimes you make plans and they are foiled by the conditions, be it an unstable snowpack or a delayed flight. Instead of bemoaning when things don’t work out, I want to decide to relish those days when everything does go your way.
I experienced a perfect example of this last week. I’m currently staying with my sister Lisa in the Adirondack Mountains. It’s late April and all the snow in the valleys had long melted away. The local ski resort had closed for the year and all signs pointed to the conclusion of the ski season. I ended up receiving some intel that Mt. Marcy had been skied the weekend prior and there was still plenty of snow up high. I began to wonder if another backcountry adventure might be in the cards.
I was watching the weather report and saw that after several cold days of below freezing temperatures, a warm, sunny day with low winds was in the forecast. Perfect conditions to attempt to ski New York’s highest peak. I sent out a few texts to see if anyone was crazy enough to join me and, to my surprise, my new friend Sam said she was in!
We knew this adventure would be a little hair brained. We would have to hike the first five miles with skis and ski boots on our packs before we could put skis on to hike the final three miles to the summit. The question of the snow quality at the summit loomed in the back of our minds that entire week.
While we were paying for our parking the morning of our hike, the guy at the desk of the High Peaks Information Center asked what our plans were for the day. When we told him we were going to ski Marcy he looked at us like we were insane. (Maybe we are?) This wasn’t entirely lost on us. We understood it was very possible the skiing could be awful after hiking for eight miles and climbing 3,500 feet, but it was a risk we were willing to take. We are east coast skiers after all.
A few hours later we made the summit and the conditions looked promising. After we enjoyed a few bites of our sandwiches and enjoyed the views we found incredible corn skiing on the north east facing snow field. We howled with joy as we carved some of the last turns in the season under a cloudless sunny sky.
Life is full of pleasant surprises.
