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Maysho
climber
Truckee, CA
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Topic Author's Original Post - Dec 23, 2008 - 11:19am PT
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It snowed another foot last night, more on the way, but now the sun is shining. I think I posted a version of this some years ago, but what the hell, skiing is happening! Heres a story to get you in the mood...
"How do we celebrate our connection to the earth through sports like backcountry skiing, and climbing, knowing that as we speed around in our 4Runners - transporting ourselves and our toys around the Sierra or Rockies, we leave a large ecological footprint. Our devotional trips to the mountains degrade the very environment we have come to depend upon for our play and adventure. Our continuous shopping for the ultimate pack, ski, tent, or stove feeds a system of petroleum overuse, toxic waste, landfill overflow, and in some cases exploitation of third world workers. A different relationship to gear can add a new dimension to mountain adventure.
One moonless night I wander lampless through the granite ridges and lodgepole valleys of the Tuolumne high country, relishing the sharpened senses acquired through the lack of battery powered light, I move through the dark woods like a deer, aware of sounds and shadows, making it through on my balance and intuitive sense of the grain of the land. As I walk I am full of visions of lower impact adventures -lack of equipment would increase the texture of the experience, and gear would be replaced by skill, strength and strategy.
The next summer a friend and I climbed the Nose on El Capitan in a day without jumars or aid slings. Leading and following each pitch, we never let go of the rock to climb a rope or walk up nylon ladders and found joy in the greater continuity of movement.
That winter I tried my hand at backcountry skate skiing. I raced nordic seriously in the mid 80's, and taking it to the high Sierra combined my love of skating with my mountaineering experience.
February 1996. Driving into Yosemite Valley over Crane Flat on the kind of clear day when you can see your favorite peaks etched starkly in the sky, I get a vision of the Buena Vista Crest and Merced Peak, shimmering in the distance. Knowing that it had not snowed in 2 weeks, and having just dug some pits with teens in Tahoe, I deem the conditions auspicious. With no pre-trip planning save for a phone call to each of my strong skiing bro's, Tim Messick on the Westside, John Moynier on the East, who would know where to look if I did not return.
I set off the next morning from Badger Pass with Fischer RCS skating skis, and a fanny pack, next stop Mammoth Mountain. Over the long day, I find what I am seeking, a deeper connection to the terrain and condition. Slopes that I would cruise down asleep on heavy metals, I must ski with total awareness of the finer scale of slope and divet, crust and corn, cool blue powder, and wind scoured ice. One wrong turn and I would break my little carbon toothpicks, and suffer a very long trudge back.
I spend the long February night traversing the north face of Triple Divide Peak. Twice in the night I stop and nap on my little square of ensolite, in a bivy sack, until I start shivering, then get back up to keep on sliding. One time I get into overly steep terrain, start kicking steps down in the dark, till I come to a cliff edge the bottom of which is too far for the headlamp beam to reach, head back up and find another way. Dawn is spectacular on the ridgetop of Long Mountain. It takes an hour for the sun to soften the steep slope I must descend. Kicking with my little Salomons down through the cornices, using the skis as alpenstocks, then swooping big turns with echoing yells, no one is around to hear but me and the Clarks Nutcrackers, large birds that, amazingly, winter over up here.
One memory is a "blue room", below the sun line, I am back on frozen crust traversing a vortex circling down to a frozen lake. It does not look possible on my edgeless skis till I notice the pattern of texture on the snow, that had melted and refroze in little lines all heading one direction, I find it enough to keep my skis going straight if I stay in the correct orientation. The rest of the morning is some miles of contour, where the skating skis really shine, high speed traversing across the headwaters of the San Joaquin.
The crux descent is the final slope down to Twin Island Lakes. Entering the slope, I traverse across some nice wind board, saying to myself "don’t stop, you'll just get gripped" then I look back and see my tiny tracks like dull knife marks in the slope, and the 300ft cliff below my line. Late that evening after a big climb up to Catherine Lake, and an awesome descent to 1000 Island Lake on blown-in powder, I take a wrong turn and head all the way down to the San Joaquin instead of up to Deadman Pass. By this time I am beyond bonked, headlamp batteries gone, and lost in the volcanic zone around Devils Postpile.
The grain of the granitic landscape that I have been so easily following devolves into complete volcanic chaos, creeks seem to be flowing the wrong way, I keep thinking that I will top out on the plateau of Agnew Meadow, only to hit another ridgetop and struggle down the other side. Stumbling and frustrated, I just start heading east thinking I will hit the desert by morning, just then at last I ski onto the road down by Reds meadow. A long skate back to Minaret Pass, and I am heading down the road. I am so psyched, after 36 hours and 10 powerbars I am starving to death, a steak dinner at the Mammoth Mountain Inn is 2 downhill miles ahead! All of a sudden, the tracks I am following veer left, I am bombing down a hill, and it takes 5 minutes to realize I have followed rental snow machine tracks to Inyo Crater overlook, the wrong road.
Back up the hill, at last I hit the lodge half an hour after the kichen has closed. I take the last shuttle into town, only place open is the dive pizza and wings joint, all I have is an Amex card and a few checks, which the dude won’t take. I offer to leave my gear and come back and pay in the morning but he ain’t having it. Finally, desperate I say “f*#king feed me or call an ambulance!” he pulls some quarters out of the tip jar and gives me a slice, just enough to hobble to Motel 6 where the young women worker gives me quarters off my Amex card, I devour all the crackers in the vending machine, and fall asleep."
Peter
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survival
Big Wall climber
A Token of My Extreme
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Dec 23, 2008 - 11:22am PT
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Very cool Peter!
Have a Merry Christmas and a great new year and keep keepin' on!
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bluering
Trad climber
Santa Clara, Ca.
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Dec 23, 2008 - 11:31am PT
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Very cool, Peter.
Your story is a reason I want to get back into backcountry skiing. My skis arrive at the end of the year, woo hoo!
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Dec 23, 2008 - 12:22pm PT
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Great story, Peter. I was waiting for you to post it on the Scary Solo Stories thread since it certainly qualifies.
Cheers for an adventurous notion!
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Double D
climber
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Dec 23, 2008 - 12:42pm PT
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Wow, very cool story Peter. Dang hardcore at that.
Merry Christmas to you and hope to see you with this coming year. Remind me though, if you ask me to go skiing with you that I'm probably not really up for it!
Dave
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Tarbuster
climber
right here, right now
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Dec 23, 2008 - 12:43pm PT
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"“f*#king feed me or call an ambulance!”
That one always turns the tip jar over...
Jeebus.
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klk
Trad climber
cali
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Dec 23, 2008 - 12:44pm PT
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Wow, crossing on skates! Very, very cool.
If you go back and break into a few more paragraphs, you'll probably get more readers. Especially given the demographics here at ST where we can almost feel the growing collective anxiety over upcoming vision tests at the DMV.
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Mark Rodell
Trad climber
Bangkok
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Dec 23, 2008 - 01:16pm PT
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Peter, that's a great tale. It highlights how a tour in the mts can be a true adventure. Years ago I ran in nordic races. I liked to train, summer and fall and once race season started it was a gas to compete and party afterward. But for me the best thing about the sport was how it got me ready for jaunts around the backcountry in spring. I learned this late but did learn it. Race gear, a fit body and ski skills sharpened by countless miles run during a winter can make for some wild tours. Light gear does up the ante. Fifteen miles into a long day tour out of Ostrander, my buddy for a moment forgot what he was on and toyed with a tree well and snapped one of his blade thin black Epokes. I had duct tape rolled on a pole so we made a splint and he made it back not much past dark.
Before skating blossomed I played with using mini mohair kickers. Duct tape the leading edge of the half inch wide, foot long skins and rip them off for long down runs.
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Captain...or Skully
Trad climber
North of the Owyhees
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Dec 23, 2008 - 01:16pm PT
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Super story, Peter....I can SEE it!
Wow.
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Chris2
Trad climber
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Dec 23, 2008 - 01:19pm PT
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Wow, I wish I had the time to read all that.
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klk
Trad climber
cali
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Dec 23, 2008 - 01:32pm PT
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Yeah, that's it. The Spaced paragraphs are way easier on the eyes.
now that we're all getting old, maybe we can get CMac to upgrade to a better font.
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Levy
Big Wall climber
So Cal
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Dec 23, 2008 - 01:45pm PT
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Great story Peter!
Thanks for sharing that. It reminds me why I feel so drawn to the mountains & how they help me to bond with the earth in ways the urban environment is so utterly devoid of. There's someting to be said about how solo trips in the backcountry, get one in touch with our inner character. The isolation & self-reliance required to be backcountry, bring about a satisfaction like no other.
Happy holidays to all!
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Maysho
climber
Truckee, CA
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 23, 2008 - 08:55pm PT
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Thanks you guys and gals,
Wow Walter, classic photo!
I plan to do the nordic holiday race this winter maybe get to see you.
hey Mark, yeah kicker skins are the ticket, on my next skate adventure, Taboose Pass to Bishop Pass, I used Fischer adventure revolutions, short metal edged skate skis, but with mini skins, cause I couldn't really skate much on the steep climbs at 12,000 feet. Also left the power bars and brought salmon meat, at the end I wasn't hungry at all...
Peter
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10b4me
Ice climber
the sads
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Dec 23, 2008 - 09:19pm PT
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great pre-xmas eve story
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bhilden
Trad climber
Mountain View, CA
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Dec 23, 2008 - 10:06pm PT
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Now that is what I call a Real(TM) adventure. That's way, way, way out there. If anything at all goes wrong you are in big trouble. I love it!
Bruce
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T2
climber
Cardiff by the sea
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Dec 23, 2008 - 10:54pm PT
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Great read Maysho! Thanks for sharing that story.
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John Moosie
climber
Beautiful California
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Dec 23, 2008 - 11:01pm PT
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Jumpin Jimminies. I'm blown away. How many miles do you think that was?
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Ghoulwe
Trad climber
Spokane, WA
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Dec 23, 2008 - 11:22pm PT
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Awesome story Peter. You told me a bit about that trip many years ago at a trade show and I thoroughly enjoyed hearing about it then as well as now. That was a cool days work!
Eric
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tom woods
Gym climber
Bishop, CA
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Dec 24, 2008 - 12:00am PT
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Super cool and very inspirational.
The thing with skis is it can be a lot of work to go up so you can talk yourself out of trips, but you really can make it up on the down hill so there is always something to talk you back into trips.
People throw away better gear then most of us could have asked for ten tears ago.
I too ponder the gear situation for sure. Are we living in a blip, and this is the best gear we are ever going to see, or is gear going to keep improving. Is this way we live a blip? It takes so much to keep us going. You didn't see the Indians wearing huge plastic boots back in the day, but they did get around plenty.
I don't have any answers, but those of us who live off the fat of modern american excess can gave a pretty high standard of equipment. Can't shun the stuff, because it's there and economically feasible. But I wonder what we would do without it.
Tom
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