CJ Couloir and Cascade Pass Couloir

Lost Our Bananas 1/18/25
A few weekends ago, Manny, Matthew, Ritvik and I ventured out to Cascade River Road to check out what this unusual weather window was doing to the snow in some bigger terrain. I was familiar with the zone but being out here mid-winter felt more exploratory with the cold temps and place to ourselves. I suggested Banana chute on Magic Mountain as a Plan A, hoping to find low danger and a protected, steep north facing pow pow stash. On our way over we encountered every snow condition imaginable, and soon found ourselves skinning up a wind scoured gully towards the goods. "This doesn't really look like a banana" I yelled over to the crew. Turns out it wasn't, we were actually one drainage over and en route to Cache Col. With the limited daylight we made the call to just top out the line we were on, where we were treated to a beautiful transition spot at the Cache Bivy overlooking some of the best mountains I know of from Forbidden all the way over to Formidable. I was intrigued by the steep terrain below the Cache glacier, but got vetoed by my level-headed crew and we party skied down the nicely sustained fall line run we had climbed with a mixed bag of snow quality. We headed back up the pass and some extra credit up the south arm, and cruised down the giant run back towards the car at golden hour. I knew I had some unfinished business.

Couloir Extreme 1/24/25
With no end to the high pressure in sight, I schemed all week and headed back north on Friday. I had several options in mind but was intrigued by the possibility of skiing the mythical CJ Couloir. The ultimate road side attraction, this aesthetic 3000' chute is guarded by overhead hazard that is difficult to justify. When I first laid eyes on the beast 6 years ago, the skiers left variation was still capped by an enormous serac on the precariously perched Sill glacier. But the glaciers are rapidly disappearing, and this particular weather window offered a remarkably stable pattern with no snow for weeks on end and freezing levels below valley bottom. Coverage was certainly not all the way there, but avalanche hazard was on the low end of low. Anyone that has spent time at Cascade River Road in the spring knows firsthand that Mount Johannesburg is often spitting down snow, rock and ice when freezing levels climb higher, and the CJ couloir is squarely in the cross hairs of a lot of it. With the current conditions I was seeing on NWAC, weather forecasts, and in-person the week prior, late January 2025 felt like a rare opportunity to get up and down this thing without quite the same degree of objective hazard it so often has.

 Manny was also interested, and Sam C was the wildcard. We drove separately, and Manny and I brought bicycles for the initial bare road this time to make it a multi-sport day. As we skinned towards the Cascade Pass trailhead and stared up at the possible line, the Goode Goblin emerged from the forest and seemed stoked. To my surprise, Sam and Manny were both tentatively in to have a look at CJ, and with a short contour over to the danger zone we had started booting up the lower couloir. The fall line couloir was clearly blocked by cliffs and ice but the narrow lookers right variation seemed like it went clean, with the exception of a small bulge of ice. As we headed up the offshoot couloir it became clear that it would not ski all the way through and required a down climb, and Sam with only a single ice axe made the decision to flip and save it for another day. Manny and I continued on, soloing a short step of easy alpine ice and making our way up onto the upper ramp. The position was immense, with the towering cliffs of Jberg and the famed NE buttress looming above us. It was eerily still, with only a slight trickle of spindrift from above and no natural avalanches of any kind. Now above the crux, Manny came to the decision that the variable snow and consequences of a fall didn't feel right, and he began climbing back down the couloir. Still completely immersed, afraid, and fired up about where I was, I continued on, alone on the wall but exchanging frequent updates on the radio. I made a tedious traverse up and left through deeper snow, and then began booting straight up the final, upper couloir. The upper roll was incredibly steep but contained edgeable chalky snow and the col was blocked by a gigantic wall to wall cornice. I found refuge up and left against the rock wall of Cascade Peak, chiseled a small platform in the firm snow to take in my surroundings, and clicked into my skis.

It was time to drain this bad sally. The upper couloir skied decently well but the constant threat of unexpected variable snow and no fall terrain below kept me making cautious jump turns. I side slipped onto the convex roll and then dropped in to an incredible chute of chalky wind board. I was able to open things up a bit down the traverse, well aware of the fact that I would very likely never be back here. Manny was still making his way down, and I waited for him to climb through to not to sluff him off the crux. When it was my turn to drop, I scraped my way down the couloir and transitioned back to crampons a bit above the ice. I downclimbed ~150 feet of snice with the fun short section at the bottom where I was actually able to swing tools, and then reunited with Manny where we put our skis on and descended the mega lower couloir to the valley floor below. A quick road ski and extreme bike descent and I was back at the car drinking a beer and cooking up some pasta. Yeehaw. Sam showed up with reports of good conditions on the couloirs by the pass, and they both headed out. I reflected on a heavy day in the mountains and promptly fell asleep. 

Cascade Pass Couloir 1/25/25
I woke up a few hours later to the sound of Ritvik's van rolling up, soon followed by Ryan with his buddy Brandon. We had a van beer and made plans to ski more couloirs in the morning. I made the trek up the valley for the 3rd time in 8 days, staring into the madness on the north side of Johannesburg and now imagining skiing some of the gigantic north facing ramps that probably fill in some years. We got blasted by the typical wind tunnel effect while heading up to the pass, and enjoyed yet another chilly but completely clear Winter morning. The lads decided they wanted a more mellow day, but Ritvik and I were keen on a Northeast facing line off the Mixup Peak ridgeline that I had bailed on with Nick last spring. It is a striking line just above the Ptarmigan Traverse route that cuts deeply and diagonally across a rock face. I think this line could be called the Cascade Pass Couloir (East), surely a classic ski route hidden in plain sight. It features a dangerous hanging northeast face above the line which should be approached with the utmost caution in warmer weather, but similar to the day before we were experiencing a deep winter freeze with the threatening face looking pretty bare. Ritvik and I skinned across the bench and began booting up the couloir.

Conditions in the couloir were not quite as advertised. Snow had flushed down it several times, and Sam's turns (and sections without turns) did in fact look quite sporty. But the climbing conditions were great and the setting incredible, and before we knew it Ritvik and I were standing up on the ridgeline again staring at our buddy Mount Formidable in the distance. Now how do we get down this thing... We down climbed the initial section which was currently too narrow for a ski width; laying tracks off the tippy top in better conditions would be incredible. At the choke I transitioned to skis and began my downward mountaineering mission, a combination of jump turns and shenanigans with ice axe in hand. Ritvik didn't like what he saw and chose to down climb. I carefully pieced my way down this incredible line, and once Ritvik was safely through we ripped down into the lower couloir. We then skinned back up the pass up onto the face underneath Cascade Pass Couloir (West) aka Slot n Peppa, which we saved for another day. Yet again on the most variable of snow, we descended several thousand feet down to the valley on an interesting skiers left variation mini couloir beneath the Triplets, down the wind tunnel, and onto the road. I said goodbye to the homies, hopped on my bike, and began the journey home. Cascade River Road is the best.

Closing Thoughts
- These adventures, and all the ones experienced by the other friendly people out there including some big missions which are going down as I'm writing this, were made possible by heroic road clearing efforts by Eric Gilbertson and company. By clearing the downed logs on Cascade River Road this year for the Winter Bulgers project, they have enabled winter recreation in some big mountains. As climate change continues to push snowlines higher and higher access to zones like this and Heliotrope becomes more important, and the under-resourced Forest Service cannot be counted on to maintain them through the winter. Individual or community led efforts through orgs like the Cascade Backcountry Alliance seems like it could be a path forward to maintain access to difficult to reach public lands, so thanks Eric for leading the way.

- Big mountain backcountry skiing is a contrived and at times unnecessarily dangerous hobby, and these particular lines, especially CJ, are anything but safe. I would only recommend them if you feel absolutely certain that conditions are stable and it is something you genuinely want to do for yourself. What draws me back to these mountains is the highly rewarding process of figuring out how to find safe passage up and down these wild places, and the fulfilling experiences I get to share with my friends. Have fun and be safe out there!   -Thomas