“In March 1990, after several years of intense examination and patience, the impossible looking Little Wasatch Face was skied by its easiest route the “Why.” Four years later, an unlikely, unplanned descent of Heaven’s Eleven stunned the local ski community. Within a week of the first descent of Heaven’s Eleven, Brian O’Neil, Lance McDonald and Neil Ringstad continued the push on Little Wasatch Face, making first descents of the Grand Daddy, Oblivion Bowl and the North Why, establishing prominent lines and a few variations on the showcase face.” -Andrew Sawyer

Fortunate to descend this line with local ski legend Himay Palmer, below is a POV account of our ski descent

Grand Daddy Couloir

A Day in AK from Chason Russell on Vimeo.

Chason Russell and friends made a trip to Southeast Alaska last spring, check out this edit of one of their days on the glacier.

Skinning away from the truck at 04:45, stars shining brilliantly overhead, we broke trail up Garnet Canyon–feeling good and ambitious, hoping for steep turns on sweet snow and fun climbing.  We did find some of that, and some other stuff.  Like a questionably-frozen lake that creaked and popped as we puckered up and kept skinning across the ice.

Skinning below the Middle Teton at sunrise.

Entering the upper canyon--bulletproof skinning through rocks. Awesome. (Here, Z is skinning below the Z Face on Cloudveil Dome. How appropriate.)

Windy? Windy.

We found a whole lot of horrifically scoured snow in the upper canyon.  More scree than snow, actually.  The East Ridge of the South Teton held so little snow on it that we left our glisse gear at the bottom and climbed it for the sake of climbing.  (What?!)  Ski mountaineering turned into mountaineering, in a gusty wind that threatened to peel the skin off our faces.

Climbing the East Ridge in blustery conditions. Note the lack of skis on Z's pack.

No snowboard, but fun climbing. Amazing views, too.

Climbing back down the East Ridge. That's what you do when there isn't enough snow to ski.

Or you might opt for a rappel or two.

The mandatory Eddie Bauer shot. Contemplating how we're going to get out of the mountains.

See all that snow blowing around on the ridge? That was unpleasant. You can just make out our bootpack in the center of the image.

We also found horrifically awful turns (bulletproof windslab, 10″-tall sastrugi, remnants of last winter’s snowpack with the consistency of glacier ice.)  Lots of them.  Punctuated with stretches of scrambling over snow-dotted scree fields in a hurricane.

Check out Z's edge penetration into the hardpack. Mmmm.

Better turns as we drop down to 10,000'. Blustery up there!

To be fair, we found really good turns lower down as well, sweet powder thinly covering jagged granite.  Like skiing through a minefield, except the casualties were the bases of our boards.  We left curls of base material and edge shards all over that place.

And then we skinned back across that lake.

But the question is: would I do it again?  Hell yes, in a heartbeat.

*You may have noticed that I used the term “ski mountaineering” rather than “snowboard mountaineering”.  Fear not–I am indeed still snowboarding, and loving my Wagner Custom board and approach skis.  I use the term “ski” generically.  Consider it a pursuit of efficiency, or laziness.  “Ski” requires 6 fewer letters to type, and a whole syllable less to think or speak.

Check out this short edit for a taste of the skiing in Cerro Catedral, Argentina:

Volcan Puyehue erupting in the distance

Black Canyon of the Gunnison from Chason Russell on Vimeo.

We got to Lassen Volcanic Park just before sunset, fired up the Weber and filled ours stomachs with chicken  sausage and beer.  Waking up around 5am and at the  trail around 5:30 we easily made our way through the low trees to the bottom of the north face.

After half a PB&J we started boot packing the rest of the way to the summit, a little over a thousand feet and about an hour later we standing on top enjoying the view of the crater left behind by the 1914 eruption and Mount Shasta 80 some miles to the north.

Great skiing from the top on my first volcano, not a bad way to spend the day before the summer solstice.

This map from Brett Shreckengost’s website, tellurideoffpiste.com, provides a clearer picture of what Cedar accomplished.

Checking out the S-4 from a ski tour in 2008

We left Telluride some time around 5am and returned around 10:30pm. It only took us about 14 hours from the time we started skinning to make the 20 mile round trip journey returning us to the beer waiting in the vehicle. Seems like we might have spent some three hours descending through this crack. In the chute we met a variety of ski conditions ranging from chalky powder to glare ice. The couloir demands a bit of rope work and we didn’t find much for anchor possibilities above the two rappels. With some creativity, and a little digging we eventually found what we needed to build our anchors.  This one goes down as a true ski mountaineering adventure.

My buddy Zahan was once again the partner of choice.  At maybe 5’9” tall and weighing in at 135 pounds (soaking wet with a hard-on,) Z is an aerobic machine.  His willingness to break trail from pre-dawn to dusk combined with solid mountain skills make him one of the greatest ski mountaineering partners imaginable.  We’ve spent many days in the mountains together and will hopefully spend many more.  With plans for some really big days in the Tetons when conditions come together, we thought that following a descent of the Apocalypse Couloir with a climb and descent of the Son of Apocalypse Couloir would make for good training.

Crossing the lake with gorgeous morning light on the far shore.

Sunday’s route took us across Phelps Lake and up through the thin forest on the east slopes of Prospector’s.  Sunrise lit up the lower forest while we skinned across the frozen lake and we were granted stunning views of Albright Peak as the morning’s inversion fog burned off.

Albright Peak pops out of the fog in the background.

Winding our way up through the forest, we made good time getting to the ridgecrest and the notch above the top of the Apocalypse.  The couloir ends about 200’ below the ridgecrest, with a steep rockband keeping it from topping out.

The inevitable summit shot--AJ and Zahan, about the enter the Apocalypse Couloir.

With our huge snowpack this year, we found snow covering the rock and were able to downclimb most of it with the aid of a fixed-line that had been anchored to a tree at the top.

AJ down-climbs the entrance to the Apocalypse Couloir.

Midway down, the fixed-line turned into a rappel anchor, so we rapped a short pitch and then down-climbed through a choke to the point where we could step in to board and skis.

Z approaches the bottom the rappel into the Apocalypse.

We made turns down the entrance shaft to the starting zone of the couloir, where I built a quick snow anchor to belay Z while he ski-cut the top.

Z descends the entrance shaft to the Apocalypse. Skinny!

Nothing moved after two aggressive ski cuts, not even sluff.  It felt like cheating to stand at the top of a 50-degree couloir with knee-deep, stable powder in it!  It’s a rare thing–usually the snow is firm and chalky, maybe even crusty, when conditions are safe enough to take on these objectives.  Z gave me the thumbs-up for the first pitch, so I dropped-in to floaty, steep bliss–effortless turns at high speed through magic snow.  Totally awesome.

Fat turns in the start of the Apocalypse Couloir. Wagner Custom just built a new board for me that rides like a dream--a bit shorter for tight spots, and it's super stiff. It powers through thick snow and chunder, and carves into firm snow like cat claws on curtains.

Z fires turns down the Apocalypse.

We leap-frogged our way down the couloir to the choke 1500’ below, where there is typically a 40’ water-ice down-climb, and discovered that it was completely filled-in and skiable!  A bit firm from perpetual sluffing, to be sure, but we were able to ski it clean and make our way to the canyon bottom without having to step out of our gear–again, a rare thing.

Lunchtime. Z catches his breath after skiing the 3000' couloir. (The exit is visible in the background.)

After a brief lunch break in the sun we put our boards back on our packs and pointed ourselves up the Son of Apocalypse Couloir.  The lower half was great climbing–firm and fast.  But as we got higher the snow got deeper until we were breaking crotch-deep trail to the top of it.  Brutal.  We would each take a turn at the front, kicking steps for maybe 5 minutes before stepping out the way and getting a reprieve from plowing the track uphill.  Another quick break in the sun on the ridge allowed us to recover a bit before turning ourselves back downhill for another fantastic run.  The ball-deep trail-breaking on the way up translated to fat, fast powder turns descending the top half of the couloir.

Fast turns down the Son of Apocalypse Couloir--part 2 of one hell of a day.

Leap-frogging again, we made huge, mach-speed turns down to the midway choke and our return to chalky snow.  1000’ of skiing down sluffed snow and old avalanche debris brought us back to the bottom of the canyon and an hour of cross-country travel back to the truck.  (I remain convinced of the superiority of approach skis for snowboard mountaineering–the side-hill skinning and rolling travel would have been awful on a splitboard, but on the Wagner approach skis it felt cruiser.)

I will remember our day on the Apocalypse and Son as one of my most successful, fun days in the mountains.  Amazing snow, mind-blowing terrain, 5000′+ of skiing, and a partner with the skills and stoke to make it happen with style.  Life in the Tetons is good.

You can see more footage of Travis by visiting his Contour Page.

Checking the map, Red Mountain Pass

Following a skin trail from the day before that led up to the top of the Commadore we made good time heading west toward Telluride.  Checking the map one more time and a stop to tend to a hop spot on Emily’s foot we enjoyed a beautiful day with fantastic views into the Weminuche Wilderness and into Telluride.

New Wagner's and one of the many great views

Chason and Emily making their way to the top of Telluride Peak

With warm temps, no wind and plenty of time we stayed on the summit for almost an hour eating lunch and taking the amazing view, from the high steep peaks of the Weminuche  to the La Sal mountains in Utah.

Chason looking down the north face of Telluride Peak

Chason, Telluride Peak

Chason on his favorite Wagner's, Telluride Peak

First turns on my new skis...

Skiing off the shoulder just under the peak into boot top powder I was nothing but smiles all the way down into the basin below.  Light, stable, a little rocker, and easy to turn my new backcountry ski is exactly what I’ve been wanting for my touring ski ( 143mm-107mm-127mm and 180cm ).

Chason skiing soft trees below the ghost town of Tomboy

Thanks again Pete and to the crew down valley for building another great ski. I can’t wait to put my skins on again and  go for another tour.

... after a cold one

Sick Bird Silas shows off his award and his skis. Photo Courtesy of Keith Carlsen / MSI

Way to go Silas! We are so stoked for you and look forward to your continued success!