Athlete Reports BLOG POSTS

After the huge success of my trip into the Tetons with NOLS in January (check out my last post,) I was super inspired to get up into the higher peaks at the core of the range.  Unfortunately, my next foray wasn’t quite as successful–after leaving the house at 2am, my buddy Jake and I turned back from the East Face of the Middle Teton within 250′ of the summit.  Totally frustrating (especially as this was my third attempt at the East Face) but with deteriorating weather and the trickiest part of the climb right in our faces, we had to call it a day.

As it was, we got some amazing 55-degree turns on chalky powder for ~1200′ down to the glacier below.  And fat powder down the glacier and out Garnet Canyon.

So that was the setup when we decided to tackle the Apocalypse Couloir on Prospector’s Mountain a few days later.  Having just been denied the summit of the Middle, we probably had some extra “human factor” preying on us when we set out across Phelps Lake with the Apocalypse in view.  I like to think that I’m pretty good at staying objective in my decision-making in the mountains.  Perhaps not super conservative, but thoughtful.

In any case, the trip into the base of the couloir took longer than expected–goofy route-finding and unclear directions from a different parking lot than where I’ve started in the past.

We ran into a couple of moose right where we wanted to cross the creek in Death Canyon–cool wildlife encounter, but it definitely took us a bit of time to skirt around them.  After leaving my approach skis tucked under a rock below the couloir, we began the long bootpack that would ultimately place us in the cave at the apex of the couloir.  Nice powder varied from ankles to knee-deep climbing into the couloir proper, and then firmed up as we approached the ice in the narrows.

The Apocalypse is an hourglass-shaped couloir with a ~40′ section of mixed snow and ice in the narrows, requiring mild climbing technique to continue moving up, and a rappel or downclimb for the return trip.  Above the narrows, as the upper funnel opens up, the couloir takes a hard left and continues for another 1000′ to the cave at the top and steep rock continuing to the summit of Prospector’s.  My understanding is that Stephen Koch and Mark Newcomb named it the Apocalypse when they made the first descent because of the unreal amount of ice hanging over the lower half of the route, presenting the very real possibility of being crushed under icefall if things warm up.  Little bits and chunks of ice rain down as you climb; it’s quite a relief to climb past the narrows and into the more standard couloir-skiing hazards of moving snow and rockfall.

We chose a cold day with light snowfall in the hopes that low temps would keep the ice in place.  In that assessment we were correct; nothing much was moving up there, just wispy little spindrifts pouring off the rocks above and blowing apart in the light breeze.  The trailbreaking in the upper couloir was great–firm and fast–with the exception of three pockets of ridiculously deep powder.

As in belly-button-deep.  Brutal, and it should have been a clear sign that conditions weren’t as safe as we’d thought.  My instinct was telling me that something wasn’t right, but we were working so hard to get to the top and we had just turned back from the Middle and all we wanted was to finish this thing, so we kept going.

We took some time in the cave at the top to eat and drink, replenishing ourselves after the 6-hour push to get there.  Then Jake took a couple of pictures and set up to shoot me making the first few turns down our line.

On my tenth turn, I pulled out the first slab.  It pushed me around a bit, but I rode off of it and yelled up for Jake to ski the bed surface down to me.  It turned out those deep pockets were slabs waiting for the right shear force to cause them to fail.  On my sixth turn of the next pitch I pulled out another, deeper slab.  Probably about 40cm deep, it was moving with some serious force and it took me a while to get off the side of it.  I don’t often experience real fear when I’m out, but as the slab carried me downhill and piled up on my shoulders I was scared.  All I could do was try to carry momentum to the side and toss myself into the rock wall bordering the couloir.  Ultimately, I got out of it and watched the debris speed by as it slid down and around the corner.  At that moment, I wanted more than anything to be safe at home with my wife and our dog.

After Jake skied down to me again, we discussed what to do from there, how to manage the last pocket, and then made cautious turns down to the main fork of the couloir.  The last pocket was totally wiped clean by the slab I had just knocked loose, so we actually had pleasant, firm 50-degree turns down to the narrows and then more powder below the downclimb.

It was a pensive, sobering trip out of the mountains.  I hate the feeling that I had so lost perspective of the stability up there, and lost control of my own safety.  We were driven to make it go, had the blinders on, and easily brushed aside obvious changes in the snow conditions.  As Jake put it, it was a cheap lesson: pay attention when things change, keep the drive and ambition and commitment out of my decision-making.  It would have been catastrophic to be carried the full length of the couloir.  Today I got by with a healthy serving of humble pie.

I just spent 10 days in the Tetons teaching an instructor training seminar for NOLS, doing some really amazing riding while training a new generation of backcountry snowboarding instructors. With all the time we spent skinning and riding, my trainees were pretty impressed at the performance of my Wagner Custom approach skis, and how easy my transitions were compared to their splitboards. 50cm of new snow graced us over the first few days, and after seeing the start to our season’s snowpack it was really nice to see stability improve around here, opening up the big lines that were too dangerous before. On our last tour day I went down the far north ridge of Treasure Mountain with five of our riders to explore an avalanche path up there.

We made our way along the heavily corniced ridgeline under overcast skies, cutting one HUGE cornice to test the slope below–no reaction under hundreds of pounds of impact made us feel pretty good about the situation. Test pits near the starting zone of our intended path confirmed good stability, so we punched the gut in fast powder, riding one-at-a-time from safe zone to safe zone. (Practicing good down-guiding technique.) Big rooster tails ripping through little trees in steep terrain had everybody grinning and whooping, and the turns just kept coming. We finally reached the bench at the “bottom” of our run when I realized that we were standing at the top of a shot that I had been eyeing for a couple of years from the skateski track below. It was pure luck that we ended up right on top of it, with perfect conditions and a group of strong riders. Awesome.

The Boy Scout Couloir is so named because it is the only clean line through the 400′ limestone cliff above the Treasure Mountain boy scout camp. Steep, narrow, and perfectly plumb, the couloir is a deep and beautiful cleft through towering rock walls. Ultimately, the reason that I hadn’t ridden it before was because of the long access and the difficulty of finding it from above. But with us camped on the summit of Treasure Mountain, we were perfectly set up for a descent and didn’t even know it. It would mean a long skin back to camp, but what better way to wrap up this trip?

After describing the couloir to my tour group they jumped at the chance to ride it, so I took over the down-guiding and we rode up to the lip to scout the entrance. We found a little sneak above some rocks to access a dozen 50-degree turns into the meat of the couloir–beautiful. Once everybody was grouped up inside the couloir, I rode firm, fun powder to a good spotting zone just above the rock portal at the exit and gave the team the thumbs-up to ride it out one-at-a-time. They made fast, controlled turns, leaving cold crystal rooster tails, opening it up once they hit the fan at the exit. Once they were safely through and into the forest below, I aired off my perch and rode out to join them. Big smiles, lots of high-fives and general giddyness ensued.

We rode down through a bit more forested terrain to the bottom of the canyon and transitioned for the skin back up. After 8 days of winter camping, everybody was a bit fatigued and really hungry, but super stoked to finish the trip with a line like that. The 5-hour skin back up (splitboard skins can be a nightmare) took a circuitous route up Eddington Canyon and past the Eddington Chutes. (We had ridden those a couple of days earlier.) We watched the sun set over the Big Holes just as we climbed a bootpack through the rock band at the top of the Treasure Mountain massif, the sky turning lava red. Dusk fell into dark as we rolled back into camp, spent but happy, ready for a huge dinner feed and looking forward to going home to family and friends.

Skinning out of the mountains with our camp in the sled behind me, I became acutely aware of the caliber of the backcountry snowboarding program that we’ve created at NOLS. If you’re a snowboarder and you want to take your riding to the next level in the backcountry, I would definitely consider taking a course–you’d be amazed at the experience.

The Why Couloir January 11, 2009 — Words and photos by Brad Foley

Knowing that the skiing out the backcountry gate had been hit hard over the last two days and wanting to ski soft snow for Scott’s birthday we headed to the east side of the Bear Creek valley. The forecast was for blue skies and the Why had looked good from across the valley as we headed to the gate.

Dan, Ryan and I had yet to ski the Why Couloir and Scott having only skied it once before we decided to go. Adding to the spaghetti string of tracks on the way to the skin route we were excited with the idea of soft snow and blue skies. Climbing quickly we made the ridge just as the weather began to deteriorate. With wind increasing and snow now starting to fall we negotiated the intricate ridge to the entrance of the Why, wondering if we had made the right decision. A little billy goating and we were in the main couloir. Since it was Scott’s birthday it only made sense that he drop in first and we hoped the snow was soft and the falling snow made for an amazing scene.


Skiing conservatively down the steep couloir, we found a mix of dense powder and some wind board in the middle section of the couloir. With three large cliff bands at the bottom we traversed out to the exit couloir and found turn after turn of perfect light, dry San Juan powder, the best skiing of the day.

The clouds were lifting and our spirits high, we were all feeling lucky to have been able spend the day together in such a magical place. It was Scott’s fortieth and my first time in the Why, I hope it was as memorable for him as it was for me. Why not…

Last winter Wagner Custom skis and snowboards picked me up as a factory team rider. It was pretty wild – I was standing on the podium after placing 4th in Telluride’s freeskiing competition when Herb Manning of Wagner Custom suddenly handed me my first pair of Wagner Custom skis and informed me that I’m sponsored. Damm was I excited!!! I had myself a pair of the sickest skis on earth.

The first time I took them out I was ecstatic. Instantly I was in awe at their performance and incredible endurance. I used those skis for the rest of the winter and took them to 3 more freeskiing competitions after Telluride where they outperformed every other pair of skis I’ve ever owned. Before riding on Wagner Customs, I went through 2 pairs of skis in less than 2 months including one pair I wrecked after just 3 days. Then I obtained the Wagner skis and they held up beautifully throughout the rest of the season. I remember seeing other competitors at the freeskiing events with broken skis and foot long strips of p-text hanging off there skis and all I could do was laugh because I skied my Wagner’s super hard and nothing would happen to them. I would jump off of cliffs onto rocks, even ski over rocks, without even thinking twice about it. When I would get to the end of my runs I would look at the bottom of my skis thinking that they would be wrecked and to my surprise there wouldn’t be more than a small scratch.

Eventually I was purposely trying to wreck my skis to test their durability and I couldn’t do a thing to them. Wagner’s are by far the best skis I have ever had the pleasure of skiing and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
-Travis Hart Wolfe

Ideal corn snow conditions led us to the point where we had abandoned our shoes for hard shell boots. Drew and ‘Perro’ patiently awaited us there. Regressing through the volcanic debris back toward the Gendarmeria, we were consumed with a sense of satisfaction, dehydration, and hunger. A ‘parrilla libre’ (all you can eat grilled meat) was awaiting us back in San Martin.

Sitting in my assigned window seat on the bus the following day, I struggled against the desire to sleep and glanced out the window to get one more view of Lanin as the bus made its way across the huge expanses of Argentina. Consciousness gave way to dream state and in a seemingly absence of time, I was being served dinner, as the bus made its way through the night en route to Buenos Aires.