......Well, .........

     So having signed up for the Tour of Anchorage, a fun local XC-ski race, I've felt obligated to train for it just in case, and therefore turned potential backcountry days to in-town XC ski days.  It looks like the Tour won't be happening, or at least nothing like the 50k I planned for due to lack of snow.  So I decided to scale back XC skiing and re-vamp BC skiing.  

     I'll just say it once: this ski season sucks, and it looks like late May here now, at best, without the corn.  That comment is for context only, mostly for non-locals.

     So I've gotten out a day here and there to find the expected thin and variable conditions.  I've been staying local because the snow farther away isn't really that much better for the time and effort.  A mid-storm Eddies investigation day was pleasant aside from high winds and avy danger.  South Fork Eagle River offered a chalky run off Harp which was the best one out of there, then a highly variable bowl run that left me frustrated with whatever I feel like pointing the finger at.  A peak three outing was hike-to on ice, but surprisingly ski-able up high with good enough visibility.  Despite the relatively poor conditions I find that still I would rather be out there enjoying the mountains, the skiing, the company, the quiet, whatever, than being in town and working or running errands or anything related to urban life and busyness. 

     Today I wasn't working but had in-town urban obligations necessary to keep the ski-life alive on other days off.  I was eyeing the front-range all day and noticed precipitation that looked like snow, then rain, then maybe snow again?  I got home near 4pm and decided that I would hurry to check it out up high near Arctic Valley, opting for potential disappointment(or reward? (hope is not gone)) over wallowing in boredom/regret/annoyance the rest of the evening.  

     I found a slushy and melting road all the way up until the parking lot where 4"+ of fresh moist snow greeted me.  I could work with that.  With no signs of anyone else today I skinned up and chose the most favorable looking slope, knowing sunset would be soon, and raced my butt to the top in hopes of catching that one incredible unset lap on the fresh and un-tracked West-facing slope.  

     My mind was blown.  Here I was grumbling on the inside, then somewhat excited about the 4", then, ironically, I saw the most incredible sunset during my time in AK.  I had just skied that coveted sunset lap mentioned above and was transitioning to do another if light allowed and bam, it hit my eyeballs/mind/soul like a slap in the face.  The purest and most intense sunset colors highlighted the silhouette of purple mountains across the arm, large flakes of the scarce commodity I had sought all winter hazily blended those same colors without hindering the brightness of the sun or losing the crispness of each individual flake falling.  The clouds were coming and going around the mountainsides below and the ghostly shadow of precipitation on the periphery of the skyline made the whole vista all-encompassing.  I stopped skinning for that next lap, it was too good.  My phone died so I couldn't take pics and for the better because they wouldn't have done it any justice.  

     I skied a partial lap down and out, totally satisfied with less than enough vertical, less than deep powder, less than a full day, and Lucy less than exercised, but more than I needed.  

night ski!

     So it was (and still is) a goal to ski at night, ideally unaided by my headlamp and under the full moon.  This year I have had to completely redo almost all my ski goals due to the conditions, forcing them rather than letting them happen.  The other night was one example of this because as night-time diminishes so does my opportunity to night-ski and I decided I best do it now and if I can again later, I will.
     I was "on-call" for work during the last "snowstorm" that dropped all of 4-6".  I expected Arctic Valley to deliver the miraculous exception as I watched the cloudiness of snow in the sky hide its peaks all day.  Work didn't need me so I decided to sneak a quick run up to Gordon Lyon to check things out.  I had been at Hatcher almost exclusively and was hoping for this to be the Front Range jump-start.
     There was indeed a fresh dusting, but no dumping.  I skinned up as others were skiing out, with word of decent conditions up-valley.  I skinned by feel in the dark because the moon was hidden by clouds/snow.  Being out there at night is eerie with silence and stillness.  It seemed typically big with the glow of the city and the obscured outline of the snowy mountains, but unusually small with such little light and empty of details.
     I was travelling by memory and made it to the top without issue, ripped skins and turned on my headlamp.  I would advise skiing with a headlamp when it is NOT snowing to avoid the star-dodging effect seen in the video.  The first time I night-skied I remember seeing an individual coming down peak 3 with a huge chest-lamp AND headlamp.  He didn't seem to have any issues with visibility.  Maybe rigging the lamp to my body instead of my head can get rid of the effect.
     I will attempt this again when there is hopefully more light from the moon so I can do it without a lamp but also with more even snow coverage.  Were the snow deeper I might have elected to try without a lamp but we are still rock-dodging at this point in time.

New year, new snow? I hope so.

     So the ski season has continued its lethargic coming and has still not gathered enough steam to be full-on yet.  Turnagain Pass continues to be wet and windy, same for Girdwood.  Last I checked most places were still hike-to, or a dicey ski out if you could tolerate wind/rain.  Alyeska is shipping people up the mountain on the tram so they can ride the upper portions because the lower mountain doesn't have enough snow.  The Chugach Front Range just picked up ~7" at upper elevations, enough to start something but will likely be decimated by wind before any more precip comes our way.  I could stay positive and say "maybe next year" or "with the new year", but it is next year and a new year.
     I've spent the past three days at Hatcher Pass since they picked up ~10" New Years' Eve day.  Notoriously rocky and mixed with a burst of wind only leaves it marginally better than Turnagain, that margin being sunshine and drier snow.  There are still plenty of rocks and tundra out there: my skis look like they had a rough season in the Front Range, though I haven't skied the FR more than once.
     Prior to a recent warm-and-wet spell in A-town the XC skiing was good enough to hold me over, but now I don't know, I don't dare find out.  I signed up for the Tour of Anchorage, the local urban XC ski race in the spring, so we'll see how training goes and if they have enough snow for the full length this year.  Right now Hatcher seems to be the only respectable option for AT and XC.
     Just so you all know I'm not a pessimist, but this is how "winter" in Michigan died: it started to disappear and people were head-scratching wondering where all the snow is.  That record snowfall not too long ago was natures' last push before winter in AK died.  I didn't invest in any ski equipment this year and would much welcome a reason to regret it.

Santa skis free Chistmas Eve.  Alyeska is still charging $50+ to ski half their vertical on a strip of ice.

Hello Hatcher.  H-bomb delivers the most sunshine around, making it a personal favorite.

Look at that mane.  I chopped it off because it's snowball-in-the-fur season.  She loves the snow and ski days.  When my winter gear rustles in the mornings she diligently eats her breakfast.

Trail breaking up for first tracks on Friendship pass.  Good powder was had.

     The video below is from an outing to Arctic Valley just to see what's up there.  BONEY, and what wasn't thin was prone to avalanches as seen by the slide triggered by skier #3 down the run.

The Hatcher nap followed by sun up high.

     So I headed to Hatcher to play at night with my new stove that supports winter conditions.  I headed up from the Mint TH to a possible low-angle ski run and parked it in the valley.  I was fortunate to get an early start and had camp set up by around 3pm.  I took Lucy with.  The primary objective was camping with skiing being a bonus.  I headed up, but it was too deep for Lucy on a fresh skin track and visibility was poor with the heavy snowfall so I turned it shortly after, not willing to gamble in unfamiliar terrain.  Nope.  No skiing.
     After a quick dinner I found myself falling asleep so I hopped in my bag and went to bed early thinking I would sleep until morning like last time (~15hrs), wake up and ski with better lighting, it was already getting dark and snowing pretty good.  Nope.  I woke up wide awake at 9:30PM, my body thinking I had just napped and would be up working a night shift.  The snow had stopped but clouds had not cleared enough for the full moon to light up the night. 
     I wasn't up for trying to sleep for another 12hrs, no skiing to be had in darkness, I packed up and skied it out which was the most pleasant ski-out yet:  a warm gentle breeze, downhill all the way, a fresh dusting, a pink city-lit sky and the only sound was the swish of me travelling on the snow.

     I had to get out and ski since I didn't last night.  I headed up early to Arctic Valley with the pleasant surprise of untracked road and sun up high.  I honestly chuckled as I was basking in it and looking down at socked-in Anchorage.  Conditions were still thin with tundra and rock poking through, or where it was deep enough it was dust-on-windboard.  Tally another core shot for me.  Never the less I skied a few good laps and called it a day after bonking from lack of food and water.  I might return tomorrow before work.

     I was at the peak of Gordon Lyon before the wind picked up, and skiing solo I thought I had picked a safe run with a low slope angle.  Nope. I pointed the planks one notch too soon.  Four turns in things went soft below me.  I saw a white-lightning crack split out to my left and I put it all together and immediately realized the gravity of the situation.  I tried to stop, that didn't work, I fell back and was riding the mass like I fell out of a white-water raft.  I knew I was screwed and it was all on me.  I could feel the bed and tried to dig in but the flow was too strong and was pushing me down and deeper.  I knew I had to get out or get buried at the gully bottom.   I saw I was somewhat close to the edge and could sort of steer with the flow so I tried, and successfully rode the back-seat of my skis out to the edge.  I watched the avalanche complete itself and sat in silence for a few minutes thinking about how close I just came.  Lucy was lagging on the ridge so she wasn't in it.  A few minutes before starting the run I had decided I best go a few notches lower for whatever reason, and glad I did as it was less of a terrain trap than my initial plan. 





Sun and wind rid the sky of clouds and fog. 

The end result: sun up high and clouds down low.

A raindbow, in JANUARY!

Gordon Lyon

     So today I was recovering from yesterday's outing and decided do more of an afternoon ski.  I hooked up with another local who it has been awhile since I skied with.  We met at Arctic Valley and skinned up to Gordon Lyon with the objective of skiing the drainage to the northwest of there.  Weather was perfect: bluebird skies, cool temps, calm weather although the wind picked up toward the end of our outing.  By some miracle the snow from last weekends' storms was still there and plenty soft it was.
     I had skied one run on the back of Gordon Lyon before, but never anywhere else in that drainage.  We did another run back in there which, once at the bottom, allowed me to look up at all the possibilities.  I could have spent all day there and then some.  There were plenty of lines yet to be skied.  Note to self.
     I don't know what to say. Conditions were fabulous all around.  Others must have thought the same as we noticed more and more people as the day progressed. As we were skiing out we saw close to 10 different folks in the valley.  I sure hope there is snow left for me when I am done working.  I will likely head back there if my Saturday objective falls through.  Stay tuned.
     On another note, I stumbled across an avalanche forecast site for the front range and ER.  Where has this been all winter?!?!  It is new apparently.  Anchorage Avalanche Center.

A military chopper buzzed us on the way up.

 

 



i've got sunshine....a morning on Gordon Lyon

     So today we tried to do something local and short, like a morning tour and home by early afternoon.  Unfortunately the wind came from opposite directions over the past few days with enough force to leave almost every aspect unskiably thin up high.  Pickings were slim given our criteria.  We decided to just head out anyway and hope for the best.  Like a recent post title from The Uptrack blog: "you don't know if you don't go" I have been finding this is indeed a good policy for skiing and find it to be worth it more than not. 
     I too was investing in some newer backcountry folks who contributed to a well balanced/rounded group for the outing.  We headed up Arctic Valley to ski whatever aspect of Mt Gordon Lyon looked best.  Weather was cool and calm with a mild breeze coming down from the saddle.  Mostly cloudy at first with light, but noticable snowfall and turning into mostly sunny by the start of our first run.  A light dusting from the previous night softened the pack under the skis a bit. 
     It was thin up top so we skied from a bit below the summit after taking in the incredible views of Anchorage, the Alaska Range, S. Fork of Eagle River and the view to the south of the front range.  The gully down to S Fork of Eagle River was too thin and the Northern chutes looked bare and were shadowed with flat light/low clouds.  We chose the runs in the sun. 
     We were the only ones there until we got our two laps in, then we saw 8 people at various points heading up as we were heading out.  It is nice to hit the local spots before the crowd.  It helps maintain that solitude most backcountry travelers, especially me, appreciate.  I still want to head back there and ski the other two aspects of Gordon Lyon, but will have to wait for more snow. 

https://vimeo.com/59955793