January 30-Feruary1, Mt. Rainier, Steven's Ridge
2/15/10
WA Cascades West Slopes South (Mt Rainier)
1384
1
Summary: Two nights out for a long day of skiing Steven's Ridge solo on Kahru GT's (waxable). Wind-less white out, several inches of new snow, full moon skiing, three buried layers of hoar.
Typical James trick. Turn down offer to ski Hogsback at White Pass with fun-carving others in order to free up one more day for a solo exploration of Steven's Ridge just E of Paradise.
I spent half of Friday sewing, patching, wiring, waxing, and packing.
Saturday. Yet again, the gate at Longmire was open *before* 9a.m. Yeah! After obtaining an overnight permit (free) I gear up and head out. Down Paradise Valley Rd, up to Fourth Crossing, following tracks towards the Paradise Glacier I soon pass the last tree I will see for hours. Soon the tracks dissappear and white-out sets in in earnest. I extend my poles to full length to use them as feelers ahead and to keep me from skiing down beyond them and into a creek. I navigate now by feel and the occasional glimpse of cliff. I get quite good on the flats at flicking snow ahead of me with my poles in order to get some depth perception. Flick, step, flick, step. When no snow-ball shadow appears I stop, change direction, flick, step, flick, step . . . this keeps me from skiing into the creeks or over a wind-scoop. The weather clears enough for me to see a clump of trees on a not-too-steep section of ridge. I head for these, then deciding I don't like the look of the slope. I head strait up through a wind-scoured scoop and into some sticks that have aspirations to become trees. This gains me the ridge. The white-out has closed in again.
If you think it would be cake to just follow a knife-edged ridge to safety, think again. The cornices are first to the west, then the east, often both. These are cut with wind-scoops which I can see approaching several inches in front of my skis. It is impossible to tell if the scoops are two feet or two hundred. Finally, trees down slope and just off the ridge give me a land-mark. Although the map indicates a plateau to my left, I thrash through the trees below the wind-scoops. At least in the thick trees I know weather or not I'm going to ski off into space or not. Never a dull moment.
Visibility improves as light fades. I ski left onto the nice plateau, using regular cornices to keep my bearings and find a sheltered camp for my Pyramid(tm by Chouinard) in a nice sheltering stand of trees. I do a bit of skiing around to get my bearings and to find the best route to continue on down the ridge. Shortly after dark the full moon makes its appearance lighting the slopes enough to ski by.
Sunday sees me skiing by first light. Visibility on the ground has improved to several hundred feet. I can see the first high points on the ridge nearly a half mile away. My kick-wax is working ok. I decide to leave the skins off and traverse around the first high points. The traversing gets steep but the whole side of the ridge has already slabbed off (Jan 25th's snow on Jan 23 & 24's hoar). I feel comfortable on this traverse until I wonder if maybe the last couple of days worth of snow (four inches) has fallen on re-grown hoar formed on the during last weeks clear weather. I make a bee-line to the ridge top.
Following the ridge is more or less strait forward. Avoid cornices, avoid wind-scoops, stay on top of avy slopes. I take my skis off to hike one steep knife-edged section. The snow gets heavier, then much heavier but thinner as I descend. All goes well until I'm just a few hundred feet above Marsh Lakes (such an inspired name for a couple of lakes). My map gives me two choices. I take the nearest and end up working through band after band of cliffs. At each cliff-band, I take out my map in the hopes of inspiration from the U.S.G.S. At every opportunity I work my way east. All my benches cliff out and force me east anyway. I finally intersect the *nice narrow ridge*(choice two) on the map and follow it without incident down to the lakes! After five hours I take a much deserved lunch break, finish the last of my hot tea, re-fill my Nalgene, skin-up and head back up. Near the top of the *nice narrow ridge* I rejoin my tracks. Half-way back to camp the sky threatens to clear up. Sometimes, if I look strait up, I can see large patches of blue sky. Despite having to re-gain 2000 ft., I make it back to camp in less than five hours. I spend a pleasant evening around camp and notice the moon coming up in a crystal clear sky. Nothing for it then but to go skiing by the light of the moon. I finally get the views of both Rainier and the Tatoosh that I was imagining while planning the trip!
Day three, Monday, bursts out in alpenglow, clear skies, and for the third day, no wind! The route back is accomplished in half the time needed two days ago, owing to the fact that I hardly had to throw any snow-balls ahead of my skis at all. After breaking through over an inch of snow-plow-thrown frozen slush on my way out at ten in the morning.
Typical James trick. Turn down offer to ski Hogsback at White Pass with fun-carving others in order to free up one more day for a solo exploration of Steven's Ridge just E of Paradise.
I spent half of Friday sewing, patching, wiring, waxing, and packing.
Saturday. Yet again, the gate at Longmire was open *before* 9a.m. Yeah! After obtaining an overnight permit (free) I gear up and head out. Down Paradise Valley Rd, up to Fourth Crossing, following tracks towards the Paradise Glacier I soon pass the last tree I will see for hours. Soon the tracks dissappear and white-out sets in in earnest. I extend my poles to full length to use them as feelers ahead and to keep me from skiing down beyond them and into a creek. I navigate now by feel and the occasional glimpse of cliff. I get quite good on the flats at flicking snow ahead of me with my poles in order to get some depth perception. Flick, step, flick, step. When no snow-ball shadow appears I stop, change direction, flick, step, flick, step . . . this keeps me from skiing into the creeks or over a wind-scoop. The weather clears enough for me to see a clump of trees on a not-too-steep section of ridge. I head for these, then deciding I don't like the look of the slope. I head strait up through a wind-scoured scoop and into some sticks that have aspirations to become trees. This gains me the ridge. The white-out has closed in again.
If you think it would be cake to just follow a knife-edged ridge to safety, think again. The cornices are first to the west, then the east, often both. These are cut with wind-scoops which I can see approaching several inches in front of my skis. It is impossible to tell if the scoops are two feet or two hundred. Finally, trees down slope and just off the ridge give me a land-mark. Although the map indicates a plateau to my left, I thrash through the trees below the wind-scoops. At least in the thick trees I know weather or not I'm going to ski off into space or not. Never a dull moment.
Visibility improves as light fades. I ski left onto the nice plateau, using regular cornices to keep my bearings and find a sheltered camp for my Pyramid(tm by Chouinard) in a nice sheltering stand of trees. I do a bit of skiing around to get my bearings and to find the best route to continue on down the ridge. Shortly after dark the full moon makes its appearance lighting the slopes enough to ski by.
Sunday sees me skiing by first light. Visibility on the ground has improved to several hundred feet. I can see the first high points on the ridge nearly a half mile away. My kick-wax is working ok. I decide to leave the skins off and traverse around the first high points. The traversing gets steep but the whole side of the ridge has already slabbed off (Jan 25th's snow on Jan 23 & 24's hoar). I feel comfortable on this traverse until I wonder if maybe the last couple of days worth of snow (four inches) has fallen on re-grown hoar formed on the during last weeks clear weather. I make a bee-line to the ridge top.
Following the ridge is more or less strait forward. Avoid cornices, avoid wind-scoops, stay on top of avy slopes. I take my skis off to hike one steep knife-edged section. The snow gets heavier, then much heavier but thinner as I descend. All goes well until I'm just a few hundred feet above Marsh Lakes (such an inspired name for a couple of lakes). My map gives me two choices. I take the nearest and end up working through band after band of cliffs. At each cliff-band, I take out my map in the hopes of inspiration from the U.S.G.S. At every opportunity I work my way east. All my benches cliff out and force me east anyway. I finally intersect the *nice narrow ridge*(choice two) on the map and follow it without incident down to the lakes! After five hours I take a much deserved lunch break, finish the last of my hot tea, re-fill my Nalgene, skin-up and head back up. Near the top of the *nice narrow ridge* I rejoin my tracks. Half-way back to camp the sky threatens to clear up. Sometimes, if I look strait up, I can see large patches of blue sky. Despite having to re-gain 2000 ft., I make it back to camp in less than five hours. I spend a pleasant evening around camp and notice the moon coming up in a crystal clear sky. Nothing for it then but to go skiing by the light of the moon. I finally get the views of both Rainier and the Tatoosh that I was imagining while planning the trip!
Day three, Monday, bursts out in alpenglow, clear skies, and for the third day, no wind! The route back is accomplished in half the time needed two days ago, owing to the fact that I hardly had to throw any snow-balls ahead of my skis at all. After breaking through over an inch of snow-plow-thrown frozen slush on my way out at ten in the morning.
