Our early-season was unbelievable--I rode shin-deep powder with Bodie-the-dog on Peaked Mountain on October 7th.

After a dry November, the holidays brought fat powder back to the Tetons. Matt Lloyd goes deep near Teton Pass.

Laying our lines with nary a soul around. I spent 2 weeks in the Tetons in January with 5 NOLS instructors on snowboards, watching our tracks fill in every night as we received 1.5 meters of snowfall.

Dinnertime! Working the stoves by lamplight, turning out high backcountry cuisine.

My Winterstick Swallowtail made epic powder riding effortless.

The results of hip-checking on limestone...

Rappelling into the entrance of the Pinnochio Couloir on the Middle Teton. We had hoped to climb the North Ridge and make turns from the summit, but ended up riding this sweet line instead.

Digging the sun with Mark after a long, cold climb and descent on the north side of the Middle Teton.

Climbing out of The Handle of the Skillet Glacier on Mt. Moran. Evan Horn breaking trail.

Beautiful, firm powder riding on the Skillet Glacier with Jackson Lake below.

Summit photo with Jaime Musnicki on the Grand Teton. We took advantage of a short window of good weather and great conditions to make this 2-day trip up and down the Grand in late-March.

Approaching the anchors at the bottom of the Ford Couloir/top of the Chevy Couloir on the Grand. Thousands of feet of air beyond the edge to my right.

Rappelling past the ice bulges in the Chevy Couloir.

Zahan Billimoria leads Stephen Koch up the Chouinard Couloir on a blustery day in April. Middle Teton.

Zahan digs the chalky powder on our descent of the Chouinard Couloir.

Escaping a bit of mud-season with my wife in Belize.

There are always lines that I wish I had ridden in a given season, possibilities that never came to fruition, but overall it was a good season.  And it’s not so bad having dreams to fulfill next season.  For now, I’m moving on to mountain biking and trail running until the snow flies again.  My sincere thanks go to Wagner Custom for supporting my drive to climb and ride with the best backcountry/alpine snowboarding tools imaginable.

Cedar Palmer

After finding or landmarks and a quick laugh at how much snow had fallen over night it was time for a little fun.

Cedar sending the pillow line

Making it look easy

Skiing out out the bottom of the run we all new we be back for more.

Cedar and his custom rockered Wagners

The Skillet pours down from the summit of Mt. Moran (12,605′) on the northeast face, providing almost 6000′ of steep, perfect fall-line.  I had tried to get up it for a snowboard descent twice before, getting turned back by a storm 5 years ago, and by an insidious weak layer of graupel last winter.  Our unseasonably warm temperatures in the last couple of weeks here have pretty well gotten rid of this season’s long-lived weak layers, so we figured that conditions were prime for a successful descent, barring any large unanticipated snowfall.  Dozing off after a hot meal, my confidence was shaken by the flakes coming down outside.  But waking to starry skies, we were ecstatic to see a couple of inches of new, well-bonded powder on the ground.

We skinned out of camp just as dawn broke over the Gros Ventres and lit up the day’s enormous climb ahead.  Last night’s gift of powder also meant deeper trailbreaking on the uphill leg of the day.  With a light wind over the summit, 2 inches down low translated to 6 or 8 inches up high.

Taking a break just before starting the bootpack, warm in the sun.

We were able to skin the first 2000′ or so, but pretty shortly traded skis for crampons and put in a bootpack for the remaining 3500′ of the climb.  Kick, breathe, step.  Kick, breathe, step.  Repeat.  Endlessly.  Rotating through the lead to keep relatively fresh legs up front, we didn’t set any speed records on this climb but it was somehow enjoyable to feel the honest work of it and breathe the fresh, thin air as we gained elevation.

Holy crap, this thing just keeps on going! AJ sucking wind as we close in on the top.

And as we got higher, the wicked brutal heat that beset us midway up dissipated and a cool breeze blew down the couloir at the top of the glacier, otherwise known as The Handle.

The pitch got steeper for the final 1500′ up The Handle, culminating in a 10′ section of 55- to 60-degree climbing to crest the summit.

Cranking through the final steep pitch, with the summit rocks in view.

Wind plumes ripped off the rocks protecting the top of The Handle but we stood in a silent eddy in the sun, looking back down at nearly 6000′ of track that we had just laid-in.  Which would now be 6000′ of chalky powder turns–sick.  We rock-hopped over to the actual summit, a broad plateau with view of the North Face of the Grand to the south, Thor Peak and the Idaho Teton Valley to the west, Bivouac Peak to the north, and Jackson Lake and the rest of the Jackson valley to the east.  Just gorgeous.

AJ on the summit, with the Grand Teton in the background.

And Evan on the summit.

To think that we fell asleep in a snowstorm but climbed this gorgeous route under bluebird skies.

I dropped in first, giving a few bounces as I side-slipped the entrance to try and clean off some of the sluff, but nothing moved.

AJ about to drop in, contemplating how to manage it.

...And here we go!

The powder proved to be beautifully firm, solid edging and the 1500′ down The Handle flew by until I found a protected zone to tuck into and wait for Evan and Ben to arrive.

Ben skis out of The Handle.

Once we were all together again, I led out for a 2000′ pitch of lovely softness down to our gear cache midway down the route.

AJ, stoked for the next powder pitch.

The sluff started getting pretty big and pushy, but with such favorable riding conditions it felt good to open it up and outrun the cascade behind me.  Laying over big carves, the rock walls became a blur as I focused on getting the most out of these sweet turns.

Carving sweet turns, AJ builds momentum to race his sluff down the Skillet.

The lower glacier started to get pretty sticky with the sun’s heat adding moisture to the upper snowpack, and we found that subtle changes in slope aspect to slightly shady gullies made all the difference in keeping the snow dry and fast.  Then right above camp it all turned to mush.  We relaxed a bit in the sun as we packed up the tents, listening to kiddy-pop on Ben’s AM-FM radio and downing quart after quart of water before the long slog back across the lake.

Ahh, the long crossing...

It took us 3 hours to get from our camp to the east side of the lake, longer than the previous afternoon but not bad considering how slushy the snow was over the lake ice.  (The lake was frozen rock-hard, it was just the snow that was slushy.)

AJ and Ben take a break midway across the lake, with the Skillet Glacier on Mt. Moran in the background. The Handle is the perfect couloir cutting through the upper face to the summit.

Arriving back at the truck in the late afternoon, cold Budweiser and leftover pizza never tasted so good.  Especially having changed from wet ski boots into luscious flip-flops.  Mmm.

Skinning under a full moon is cool.  With headlamps off, shadows are so long and the muted glow reflecting off the snow provides a surreal lighting for travel through the lowland approach to the high peaks.  Partners are merely black silhouettes and the skin track is an ill-defined line across the crusty re-frozen snow surface.  Traveling across Bradley Lake and through the forest, we spent the pre-dawn hours quietly skinning through this dreamscape into Garnet Canyon.

As morning approached, the moon set and we were forced to turn on our headlamps for the last hour before sunrise, climbing up out of the forest and into the glacial basin of the Meadows in the canyon.  We stopped for a morning snack in the Meadows as the sun barely lit the eastern horizon and then bared our teeth for the icy, slick-as-snot-on-a-marble climb from the Meadows up into the North Fork.  The slope between the Meadows and the North Fork is about 35 degrees and faces south, so it bakes all day and then freezes overnight.  Skin tracks that get put in during the heat of the day get burnished to a high gloss with the water content in the surface snow and then freeze like glass.  Having forgotten to bring the ski crampons, we alternated between skinning and bootpacking as the snow conditions demanded on the climb up.  Skis on feet, skis on packs, skis on feet, skis on packs.

Mark below the North Ridge and the NW Couloir. Looks pretty thin. Anybody need to check their email?

The sun rose as we cruised through the moraines in the North Fork and we were able to make good time getting to the Lower Saddle.  We could see the BIG red duffel bag with Exum’s high camp in it as we scrambled up the scree towards the base of the North Ridge of the Middle.  Surmounting a series of benches, we soon gained a view of the route and quickly ascertained that it wasn’t going to happen on this day.  There wasn’t a shred of snow on the ridge, and the access to the NW Couloir was dry as well.  Standing in the shadow of the Middle with a chill wind cranking over the ridge and no harnesses or rock gear in our packs, none of us felt inclined to tackle 2000′ of 5th-class rock.  So we punted and decided to seek out the Pinnochio Couloir, a 1000′ line from the base of the North Ridge down to the glacier below.

With a narrow entrance that goes at ~55 degrees, the Pinnochio is a super aesthetic line that we got a good look at while skinning through the moraines an hour earlier.

Maybe this route will work?

Finding the top proved to be harder than we expected; after scrambling up and then downclimbing a few short pitches of slabby rock on misguided routes, we finally crested the Pinnochio Pinnacle and gazed down into the couloir.  My 25-meter strand of rope barely reached down to the notch at the top of the couloir, but with a brief body-wrap rappel we each made our way down to the entrance.

Mark sits back onto the day's first rappel, with the Grand Teton in the background.

Evan raps off the Pinnochio Pinnacle.

I cleaned off the cornice at the top while Mark and Evan found a rock horn to sling the rope around for our second rappel of the day, getting beyond a rocky pinch and into the couloir proper.  Going first, I found chalky powder in the couloir with excellent edging, which felt good in what seemed a bit like an elevator shaft.  55-degrees and barely wider than the length of my board, the Pinnochio Couloir was pretty sporty!

Snowboarding on rappel--not as easy or fun as it might look. But on a side note, this was my first day in the alpine with my new Wagner Custom board. Totally amazing--it's so lively, and with a bit more sidecut it makes tight turns in this kind of terrain feel easy. Awesome. Thanks guys!

After passing a particularly narrow pinch a hundred feet down, things opened up and I found really fun riding down to the mid-couloir rockband.  I pulled off to the side and yelled up for Mark to ski down to me.

Mark skis the upper pitch of the Pinnochio Couloir.

We poked around a bit for a route to downclimb while Evan made his descent to us, ultimately deciding to pull the rope out again for one last rappel past the 15′ band of rock that blocked our path.  Mark slung  another horn, we rapped past the rock, and then ripped dreamy turns out of the fan of the couloir and down the glacier to the moraines below.  The sun felt pretty damn good after spending a couple of hours in the shadow of the Middle, so we took the opportunity to eat a big lunch before exiting the mountains.

Evan skis across the glacier to the moraines after exiting the Pinnochio Couloir. Pretty skinny up top!

AJ and Mark soaking up the sun on the moraines.

More challenges awaited us on the way out, mostly in the variable and shallow snow conditions that we have this winter at mid- and low-elevations in the Tetons, but we eventually made it back down to the lake and cranked out the last two miles to the parking lot.  Though it was disappointing to get turned back from summiting the Middle, getting to ride the Pinnochio was pretty sweet and it was a fantastic day to be in the mountains with good friends.  Ultimately, the most disappointing part of the day was arriving back at the parking lot to find that somebody had taken the beers we stashed under the car to keep them cold!  So lame!

And so, we wrapped up the day with the standard trip to Dornan’s for a pitcher and some quesadillas while gazing back up at the Range through the gigantic bay windows behind the bar.  Another decent consolation prize.

Trenching in the Wasatch

Ski touring with your friends…. It is not always about getting the steep, deep, first tracks, or first D. It’s about doing what you love. It’s about being outside with your friends. Choosing the right terrain on the right days. Making good decisions. Taking memorable photos, and leaving nothing but sweet, sweet tracks. At the end of the day you and all your friends know the cold frothy beverage in your hand is well deserved!

Deep Turns in Mustang

Brad Foley on the Alta Ridge

This year the touring in the San Juan’s has been limited by sketchy conditions, though it ’s still possible to get out there. The big lines will be there later in the season. Conditions will change, new lines will fill in, when it happens we will be there. For more touring with friends photos, check out the web gallery at the following link: http://www.chasonphoto.com/SkiTouring/

Enjoy the journey, ski safely out there…..

Enjoy the photos!

My tools for the trip. I am continually impressed with the approach skis and snowboards that I've received from Wagner Custom. Durability and quality construction make them the ultimate backcountry tools. After watching the rest of the crew work with their splitboards--long transition times, endless problems with skins and hardware--I was super appreciative of the low maintenance and efficiency of my approach skis. And the Winterstick Swallowtail? Holy crap--awesome.

AJ riding with the sled behind. Not often done, but way more fun than dragging it uphill! Check out the Swallowtail float!

Camp life. Hot food, snow shelters, and warm clothing...living the dream.

Our tracks on Chicken Knob. Soft and fast.

Kyle rides wind-etched powder on Treasure Mountain.

Josie flies down "The Graveyard".

Now that I’m home, the guiding work seems to be rolling in and there’s a Level 2 Avalanche Course to teach this weekend.  And my new board just arrived from the crew at Wagner Custom–so stoked to take it up Mt. Taylor today for its first backcountry turns.

The Observatory

After a season ending injury last year it feels great to get back into the snow get to it.  With a fragile snow pack and firm skiing on the ski area we decided the best thing was to hit the backyard for some mellow pow and some not mellow control work.  Patience has never been one of my strong suits when it comes skiing, but this year more than ever we have had to endure long periods of little to no snow, long cold days and a very tender snow pack.  I can’t take it anymore, it’s time.  One of my favorite zones to ski in the San Juans sits just over the ridge from the Telluride ski area, the Cirque above the Alta lakes Observatory.  With an unlimited variety of terrain, from mini golf power to the steepest of couloir skiing Garrett and I made the call the night before to go “play” in his backyard.

Skiing over from the ski area was more an exercise in avoiding rocks on the south-facing slope down to the Observatory.  Moving quietly through the trees past a few “Red Coats” on “break” we made our way down to the house for some left-over chicken and a hot drink.  After a quick bite we made our way up the skin track to the top of the Powder Reserve, ski cutting the pitch above the trestle we found light, dry snow perfect for skiing.  Making turns back to the house for another hot drink, we were putting our skins on for another lap, this time pushing higher to the top of the Bride’s maid couloir.   Putting in the skin track to the top of the Bride’s maid I was surprised to find the couloir was  holding better  snow than we expected.  It was satisfying to reach the top knowing that we had made the right call.  A few minutes to evaluate the snow pack, good to go.  Garrett dropped first, making little noise as he moved down thru the snow leaving his mark behind.  One more pitch of skiing back to the house we found perfect snow and few face shots as a wonderful bonus.

Garrett in his Backyard

Cold and a little tired we sat around telling a few jokes and watching the alpenglow fade on the west face of Palmyra Peak.  Nothing left to do now put grab our headlamps and puffy coats and head home.  Just another great day in the mountains playing in the snow with my Wagner skis.

2008 & 2009 US Masters Extreme Skiing Champion. Photo: Eben Wight/MSI

Wagner Custom Factory Team Rider, Scott Kennett, age 51 won the U.S. Extreme Masters Championship last spring, for the second year in a row.  We talked to him about the Crested Butte competition.

Us: The competition was pretty tough there.

Scott: Well, some of these guys have just turned 40 and are just out of the pro class. And they’re Crested Butte locals, so they know the terrain cold, and I’m coming in from Telluride.

Scott Kennett airs Cheeseburger Rock during the 2009 US Extreme Skiing Championships

Us: What keeps you going?

Scott: I have the passion. I’ve competed all my life, starting with motocross at 11. And by now I feel I have to compete at something, have something to train for. I need that goal or purpose. Besides, it’s healthy to get involved in competition. It’s a reason to get up earlier, eat healthier, get in the extra run. If you just sit around on the couch, you rot.

Us: How do you prepare mentally for an event?

Scott: I still get just as nervous as I did as a kid. I used to use Rolaids to settle my stomach. Now I channel the nervous energy. I visualize winning. I focus on this idea that “I love this and live for this.” It turns into that feeling like you’re in love. I stay focused on the goal, and go there saying I’m going to win. That way I don’t stress out. I visualize the perfect run and never have a negative thought – think positive thoughts all the way. It works if you have the desire and mindset to win.

Us: What’s your training routine?

Scott: I ski a lot in the backcountry. In Telluride that requires some hiking. It means working hard at higher altitudes, and skiing varied conditions. I try to get a lot of runs – I do long days with two or three runs, skinning up radical terrain. Meanwhile, Telluride keeps opening up more and more radical terrain, like Lower Bear Creek.

Us: Isn’t that where you got hurt sometime back?

Scott: It was six years ago, and it was out-of-bounds then. I hit a tree and did a compound tib-fib fracture. The patrol guys had to haul me out of deep heavy avalanche terrain, and they kicked me off the mountain for two years – about how long it took to rehab. And now it’s legal. The Forest Service said “Maybe we should open this up.”  Maybe I opened it.

Us: What else about training?

Scott: I watch the diet. I eat pretty good. I drink mostly alkaline water to counter lactic acid. I have a machine that treats the water through electrolysis at the sink. It changes the pH level and filters it. I eat elk meat a lot – we all hunt. Each year someone in the family gets an elk and we share it out.

Us: You’re still coaching freestyle?

Scott: It’s fun to go to events and coach kids. If I’m going to be there anyway, I feel I can compete.

Kennett Freeskiing near Telluride

Us: What gear did you use at the Extremes?

Scott: I’m in the Lange Banshee Pro Freeride. I’m an oldschool bumper. I used to use the Raichle Flexon Pro. Now I get boots from Lange and try to get the flex and lean of the old Raichles. I hate to get in back seat so I put shims behind calf and crank the boot forward. For bindings I have the Salomon DIN 16. The track for the heel binding is reinforced with steel so it won’t deform like plastic. In the backcountry I’ve been on Marker Dukes, but I’m going back to the Fritschi Freeride this year. It’s better in crucial situations because you don’t have to take off the skis and your glove to convert. You can do it with a ski pole and go right into sidestepping.

In the contest I’ve used the same Wagner Custom skis for two years and they’re still holding up. It’s my best-friend ski. I might have worn the bases off from tuning but the ski still has plenty of life. I’ll have a pair made just for backcountry powder,  really wide with normal sidecut and camber but a rocker tip. But I’ll compete on the original Wagner skis.

Us: What’s next? If you win a third time, do you retire the trophy?

Scott: I’d like to win five, and then call it quits. I need to keep that passion for competition. I don’t know many people who’ve done as many extreme events as I have – Alaska, Colo, Argentina, France, all over. Even if you don’t win, it’s great fun to be involved.

We’ve had an amazingly snowy October here in the Tetons.  While the valley has been mostly just cold and gray, the mountains are holding a remarkable amount of snow.  A storm cycle at the start of the month dumped over 20″ at Targhee and we had powder turns before the crops were all in.  And then last week saw another decent cycle move through and it’s powder again!  Granted, the base is a bit thin (watch out for the sagebrush,) but it’s pretty fun anyway.  Bodie has so much fun that it’s hard not to take advantage…

It felt a bit too warm in the valley for skiing, but the parking lot temps up at Targhee were just below freezing–perfect for warm, fast skinning.

Wray and Bodie cruising up the track

We flew up the cat-track with long strides and lots of glide (these skins from Climbing Skins Direct are unbelievable,) out towards Peaked Peak.  The majority of our local over-eager early-season skiers stay over on the main mountain so Peaked guaranteed a blank canvas, and less than an hour later we were at the top, transitioning for the trip down.

The whole trip down is pretty mellow terrain, but with 10″ of creamy powder on November 1st, who cares?  (And back on my Wagner Custom board again!  So sweet.)

November 1st powder with Bodie

We tore through the cream, laying it over until we hit the lower slopes and transitioned to rock-skipping down to the cat-track.  A second run on the upper slopes would certainly have been icing on the cake, but perhaps later in the week.  It’s awesome to start logging vert this early in the season, working out the kinks and starting the season’s base endurance.  Now, with almost a week’s worth of skinning and riding already this fall, I’m all fired up to get up high and start pursuing big descents once the alpine fills in.  It’s a good year to be a rider in the Tetons…

Las Leñas Lunch

Gringo Tracks

Scoping New Terrain

Powerful Turns Ahead

Earning some turns in Las Leñas

TS Marte

Matt Lanning enjoying life in Las Leñas

Chalky Las Leñas Turns

It occurred to me as we moved to high camp.  I was guiding a climb of Denali’s West Buttress; we were carrying huge packs, moving REALLY slowly up the ridge in sub-zero temperatures.  “Wouldn’t it be nice to move fast with a light pack?  I’ll bet the Tetons are gorgeous right now.  The trail into Garnet might even be clear.”

A dry initial approach

So, 2 days after I got home Jake and I left my dog with a friend and headed up into the Park. We figured the Grand Teton would still have plenty of snow on it for a late-season descent, but weren’t totally sure about the approach—should we bring skins?  Should I bring my approach skis?  Lupine Meadows was dry and hot when we pulled in, the smell of sage strong in the air, and snow line looked way up there.  Jake convinced me that I should bring my approach skis anyway, just in case.

Walking in sneakers with light packs we flew up the trail into Garnet Canyon, finally changing to boots and skis for the last half-mile to the Meadows. It made for a quick half-mile, though. While I shoveled a platform and pitched the tent, Jake dug down a few feet to find the creek.

Going to bed.

We ate hoagie sandwiches as the stars started to appear and slid into our sleeping bags on a lovely, warm night.

The climb up to the Grand from the Meadows was smooth, with the exception of a brief route-finding snafu.

Jake on the Teepe Glacier at sunrise.

AJ climbs to the base of the Stettner Couloir. (Just around the corner...)

Firm snow made for fast boot-packing and we were at the bottom of the Stettner Couloir just after sunrise.  Unlike earlier this year, the Stettner was one big, icy runnel peppered with rocks—great climbing but unlikely skiing.

Climbing super firm snow and ice in the lower Stettner Couloir.

We climbed the Stettner unroped, and pitched-out the ice in the Chevy traverse to the base of the Ford Couloir.

Jake leads the first pitch of the Chevy Couloir.

Another hour of firm step-kicking brought us to the summit and endless views into Idaho, Wyoming and Montana.

The last step to the summit!

The view from the top of the Grand is unbelievable; everything else is SO FAR below!  Under bluebird skies, we sat in the sun for a bit, soaking it all in and recharging for the descent while the snow finished corning up. I dropped in first, making a few test turns before opening it up down the southeast ridge to the top of the Ford.

Warm-up turns above the Ford Couloir. The Glacier Route/East Face of the Middle Teton in the background.

The entrance to the Ford is pretty steep—close to 50 degrees—but with it full of sweet corn we made big, fast turns, outrunning our sluff, leapfrogging our way down to the top of the Chevy.

AJ drops in to the top of the Ford Couloir.

Jake enjoys sweet corn in the Ford Couloir.

And that was the end of the riding up high on the mountain—the Chevy is unrideable and the Stettner would be awful turning, so after 4 pitches of rappelling we arrived at the bottom of our line and traversed around to the Teepe Glacier for another 2500’ of fun turns in the sun back to camp.

The first of four pitches of rappelling off the Grand.

What a sweet outing!  The descent was almost more rappelling than riding but the climbing was fun, the weather was perfect, and it felt so good to move fast.  We strolled the rest of the way down the trail into the forest and early-blooming wildflowers, chatting about what to ski next weekend and the massive amounts of food we would consume when we got back to Victor.

Crossing the lake with the Grand and Nez Perce in the background.

These long approaches into the Tetons have made me super impressed by and thankful for my new approach skis from Wagner, and skins from Climbing Skins Direct.  For this year, the guys at Wagner Custom made my skis a bit wider and shorter, with a flat tail and more camber.  They’re also lighter due to an all-aspen core.  Snappy, with kick for the flats, and really light underfoot.  The skins from CSD are light and supple, and I’ve been shocked at how well they glide–it’s really unbelievable being able to kick-and-glide with skins on.

With these thoughts running through my head, the trip across Bradley Lake and up Garnet Canyon flew by.

Skinning up Garnet Canyon.

Before I knew it the sun had risen and we were staring up the Ellingwood Couloir–1500′ of 50-degree snow that tops out at the Dike Col.

AJ climbs the Ellingwood Couloir.

The climbing was fantastic–really firm frontpointing, with some short stretches of ice mixed in.  We hit the Col by mid-morning, stopping briefly to re-fuel as we looked over at our tracks on the Grand, just receiving the morning sun.

The upper East Face of the Middle Teton loomed above us in the sun as well, the last 600′ before the summit.  I had turned back from the East Face a few times in the past, so I was definitely chomping to finish it up on this day.  We traversed across a 50-degree powder slope to get to the gut of the climb and found soft, boot-top powder conditions.

Jake climbs through the steeps.

With the sun full on the Face it felt like climbing in a solar broiler–fortunately we cruised up it quickly and surmounted the 60+-degree pitch at the crest.  The East Face route culminates in a notch ~50′ below the summit; the final pitch to the top might be skiable in some years, but we found dry, slabby rock so we decided to call the notch our high point.

Sitting in the notch on a sunny, windless morning, looking down into Wyoming on the east and Idaho on the west, I felt supremely satisfied with our adventure.  Sure, it’s a ton of effort to get here and there are risks involved, but the reward is so sweet.

Soaking it all in at the summit notch.

And without calculating and managing risk would it be a worthwhile pursuit?  We let our sweat dry in the sun and chuckled about the enormous group that was rumored to be over on the Grand while we were the only party on the Middle.  Sometimes it all just works out.

When it felt like time to go, I put my boots back on and we rigged up for the descent.  The initial entrance onto the East Face was actually pretty sporty–no wider than the length of my board, really steep, with thousands of feet of relief below.  Whew.  I side-slipped and hopped my way down onto the crest of the Face and then made controlled turns down to the gut, where things eased off a bit.

Tiptoeing through the entrance to the East Face.

Jake side-stepped through the entrance–his skis were definitely longer than the space allowed–and joined me.  The trip down to the Dike Col was fun and brief–really just a few turns and a traverse, but in pretty great, moist powder.

And then we leapfrogged down sweet springtime corn in the Ellingwood, taking pictures, whooping it up.

Going heelside in the Ellingwood.

We had a variety of theories about how to handle the sluff that we brought down, but it seemed to work best for me to just ride faster than the sluff was traveling, making high-speed GS turns, laying it over hard.  Jake’s skis weren’t quite as fast, so he chose to vary his fall-line to stay out of his sluff.

Jake skis sweet corn in the Ellingwood Couloir.

Once we exited the bottom of the couloir a hard left brought us to the top of the Cave Couloir for another 1000′ of mellow turns down to the Meadows in Garnet Canyon.

The trip out was quick and uneventful and we cruised the trip across the lake and over the moraines, back to the truck.  Compared to the day on the Grand, I felt remarkably energetic after more than 7000′ of climbing and riding.  I wish I could have another month of Teton adventures like this, but I’m headed to Alaska next week for a month of guiding.  I’m stoked to have ridden these lines at the end of this season–maybe I can squeak in one or two more before I leave…

Looking at the Grand from the Middle Teton. The Ford Couloir drops straight from the summit, the Stettner is to the right.

We would approach via Garnet Canyon to the Teepe Col, climbing the full Stettner Couloir to the East Face and then to the summit.  Which sounds much more straightforward than it turned out to be.

Skinning away from the parking lot at 1:30, the five hours that remained before dawn felt like a pretty long stretch of headlamp skinning.  Fortunately there were three of us in it together, and the iPod made it feel easier.  Refrozen skin tracks proved to be super slippery on the steeper stretches getting into Garnet.  Ski crampons were vital for the trip up the rock-hard surface snow on the Teepe Glacier.  But just when the endless darkness was becoming oppressive, the upper glacier glowed orange as we finished climbing to the Teepe Col in the warmth of sunrise.

Approaching the Teepe Col at sunrise.

We left any unnecessary gear at the Teepe Col (skins, ski crampons, my approach skis and poles), pulling out crampons and ice tools for the remaining climb.  With a thousand of feet of relief to the canyon below the traverse around to the Glencoe Col felt exposed, but it was easy travel and we quickly reached the shadows of the Stettner.  The lower Stettner was pretty good climbing–boot-top chalky powder, and the ice bulge in the pinch was completely filled-in so that we could just fly past it.  The upper Stettner was another story.

Looking up as we climbed past the mouth of the Chevy (which we would descend hours later), the narrows above looked pretty easy–shallow snow over low-angle slabby rock with some scree thrown in.  The chockstone that used to present the greatest difficulty of this route blew out two summers ago, in theory making the Stettner a much more achievable line for winter ascents/descents.  As I started to climb past the first rock bulge, though, it proved to be significantly harder than it looked.

Climbing past the first rock section in the Stettner Couloir.

The rock was actually steep, with little usable ice, and the snow was all sugar.  I backed off halfway up it and we pulled out the rope and gear.

Andy found a patch of ice that took one screw just above our belay platform, and I somehow took the lead.  (Andy is by far the better climber–what was I thinking?)  We acknowledged that there would be no protection on the climb up this stretch; it was solo climbing while dragging a rope so that I could belay my partners up to me.  But that was the situation that we had, so up I went.  Climbing slowly and deliberately, placing my picks and frontpoints in small clefts in the rock, I squirreled my way up to the easy snow above and belayed Andy up to me.  (After hauling my pack and snowboard up–there was no way I was going to lead through that with my pack and snowboard on my back.)  Andy continued up to check out the next bulge while I belayed Jake.  Unfortunately, this just wasn’t Jake’s day–he was worn out from no sleep the night before and the climbing we had already done, so he decided to turn back and meet us at the Teepe Col.

It was cold as hell in the Stettner–by the time I was done belaying and climbed to Andy I was wearing everything I had with me and still didn’t want to stop moving.  As a result, we decided that I should lead the second bulge as well so that I could warm up.  And of course, the climbing proved to be significantly steeper and harder than it looked from below.  Andy had found good ice for a belay anchor (which we hadn’t found at the first bulge), but there was no way to protect the climbing up here either.  Once again placing my picks and frontpoints gingerly on the rock I slowly climbed past this bulge and finally reached the sun at the top.

I must say, the sun felt really good.  After belaying Andy up to me, we stood in the sun and ate a quick snack while stowing away the ropes.  The last thousand feet to the top were technically easy, but physically crushing.

Climbing the upper East Face to the summit.

We could see the summit the whole time and the boot-top trailbreaking occasionally turned to stretches of thigh-deep powder.  It should have been pretty quick and manageable, but at 13,000′ with the sun baking us it took over an hour.

But summit we did, right around noon.  Amazing views in all directions, with a stiff wind out of the west.  I had forgotten how far the top of the Grand is above everything else–even the Middle looks small from up there.  We took a brief respite on the top, snacking a bit and recharging on Red Bull and Monster.  And then we made turns right off the top.

The snow in the upper Stettner had been pretty bad, so we decided to ride the Ford-Stettner variation instead.  The first hundred feet or so off the top were just picking our way through a few rocks to the top of the Ford, but then it all turned sweet.  50-degree turns on firm windbuff led down into the gut and 1000′+ of 45-degree moist, ankle-deep powder with a slight soft crust on the surface.  Awesome carving turns on my snowboard, maybe not quite as much fun for Andy on his skis.  We cruised down the Ford pretty quickly and found the anchors at the top of the Chevy after a super exposed sneak between some rocks and the top of the Petzoldt Couloir (a thousand feet of air to a rocky landing.)  Two full 60-meter rappels took us down the Chevy and back into the Stettner for more soft, fun turns to the bottom of our line.

AJ rides the Stettner.

A traverse around to the Teepe Col brought us back to Jake and all of us had a sunny descent down into Garnet Canyon and back to the parking lot.

Andy skis out the Teepe Glacier.

This time on the Grand felt easier than the last, but it still took 15 hours and I can’t say that at the end of it I was ready to go throw a frisbee or do much of anything besides eat and sleep.  It was a super fun, challenging day on a truly spectacular mountain with great friends.  As we drove home we were already planning our next trip.  It’s amazing how easy it is to be inspired by this range, how each objective reveals a myriad of others.

The Corner Pocket by Brad Foley               Photos by Brad Foley and Chason Russell

The day started out normal enough, coffee, breakfast, morning phone calls to find a ski partner for the day and out the door.  By the time I had made it to town Chason was calling with one thing on his mind, the Corner Pocket.  As one of the last unskied lines on the west face of Silver Mountain the Corner Pocket was high on the list of ski decents.  After grabbing climbing gear and ropes Erin Raley, Chason Russell and I were on the lifts and on our way to Silver Mountain.

Erin Raley climbing to the Corner Pocket in Lena Basin

Moving quickly through upper Lena basin we made it to the entrance of the Corner Pocket at the top of the ridge between Palmyra Peak and Silver Mountain.  Looking down the couloir that led to the hanging snowfield of the Corner we knew that it was going to be more of an adventure than we had thought. 

Chason Russell entering the upper couloir

Wanting to ski the line as pure as possible Chason kept the ropes in his backpack and headed down the steep, rocky terrain.  Sidestepping with skis on to a small patch of snow we were able to make a few turns to the next section of extremely steep rock.  Trying not to think of the cliff below we made it through the crux of the down climb with adding only a few grey hairs.

Hop turns in the upper couloir

Down climbing the steep rocky section

Back on snow and feeling much more comfortable we had finally made it to the heart of the Corner Pocket.  The heat of the sun had left us with soft easy skiing snow; with breathtaking views to the west and smiles now on our faces the only thing left to do was ski.  Left right left right down to the “powder reserve” and on to the Observatory for a much needed rest before skinning back to our cars.  Even if someone had skied the Corner Pocket before us, it didn’t matter I was just happy to have spent the day with two great friends in one of the most beautiful places around.

Chason enjoying turns in the Corner Pocket

The Corner Pocket