Road Trains, Big Peaks and Talkeetna

I guess there are good parts and bad parts of having someone else doing your blog editing…

 

Linus has made it into Southern Alaska and is spending a few days near Denali National Park. In another email he said his mileage at the Canada – Alaska was over 3300 miles, trucks could be tough when they came too close and the rain can get a bit challenging.

 

Well, I am now in and have been for a while, hangin’ in the AK… I love it here. I think my last update was in Whitehorse, so a lot has happened since…

 

 

After gearing up, so to speak, in Whitehorse, I pedaled up one of  Alaska Highway’s worst sections.. frost heave has tore up the road surface so bad that it is not even a close relative of pavement anymore; furthermore, RV’s SUV’s, and Semi’s all seem to want to SPEED UP, rather than slow down, spraying me with gravel. Luckily this only lasts for 10 or 15 miles, and the magic road re appears.

About a day out of Whitehorse is where things began to change dramatically for me, in terms of country side, and therefore, pedaling bliss. This is where I begin to see signs of granite and big mountains appear, bearing the gift of glaciers.

 

I arrive in Haines Junction, what a nice little town with a fabulous bakery to boot. Up against Haines Junction, is the Kluane Range, a “front range”, or interior range of the Mighty St. Elias, the second largest chain of mountains on the continent and sporting the western hemispheres largest glaciers. It is remote and magnificent. For the next several days, I pedal along side the St Elias, and it’s largest glacial fed lake, Kluane Lake. This place is very remote feeling, and it’s people are mostly of 1st nation Natives, of whom’s company I came to immensely enjoy.

 

After leaving the Kluane area, the Alaska Border became an obsession, as this part of the Yukon began feeling stagnant, and some of the worst people I met on the trip seemed to inhabit this area.. I am not talking about Native People’s, mind you…

Finally arriving in Alaska, It begins to rain a rain that only Alaska is famous for, and for the next 8 days it did so. I spent a couple of days in Tok, relaxing and checking things out. I stocked up on food, since I was now in “cheap” Alaska, compared to northern B.C. and the Yukon. In fact, financially, Canada just about bled me dry…

 

 

Up to Delta Junction and down the Richardson Highway, I ride and push my bike into the backcountry to an area known as Rainbow Ridge; 8 miles back and I find myself standing above the awesome, Rainbow Glacier. I stay here for 3 days, and manage to get back even further, to yet another glacier and bag a 3rd class granite “spire”. I am enthralled at the beauty and descend in a storm that chases me back to my tent and a victory cocktail!

 

The journey continues, and I am now at the meat and potatoes of this trip: The Denali Highway. The Denali Highway is 135 miles long and 110 of that are gravel and traverses the entire central Alaska Range, covering some of the most spectacular scenery Alaska has to offer. I take 4 and a half days to cover this ground, and spend an entire day and a half camped atop a ridge overlooking the Susitna River Headwaters, the Susitna Glacier, the West Fork Glacier, Mt Hess, and finally, the AWESOME Mt Deborah. Mt Deborah is a peak that I want to climb incredibly bad. It is a haunting sight to my eyes. It is a peak that David Roberts also obsessed over, both in climbing it and writing about in the sixties.

 

I am camped on this ridge primarily for one reason; to capture a striking Timelapse sequence of the mountain in question. Unfortunately, as is usual in the Alaska Range, the view is obscured by clouds. I shoot what photos I can and by 11:30 pm I am asleep. The rain stops, and at 1:30 am, the clouds begin to part and the weary Alaskan Sun begins to “set”. As this sequence unfolds, Mt Deborah and Mt Hess appear, Alaskan giants, Himalayan in size, and engulfed in a red, sunset hue, Alaskan Style. I cry hard…

This is what I came here for. The feeling of seeing these unbelievable peaks is overwhelming to me and I cannot fully express what it is exactly what they mean to me.

 

 

       I finally get to the end of The Denali highway, and , I am in luck because Denali herself appears! The roof of North America, and one of the largest peaks on Earth, I only see her summit poking from the clouds. That would be the only time I would see Denali on this trip…

    The next few days are a blur to me, of rain and monotony as approach the populated southern coast of Alaska and leave behind the Alaska Range that means so very much to me…

 

Nice work Linus!!

 

For more on Outdoor Labs visit www.outdoorlabs.com .

 

Rain, the Finger, and more Rain

About six weeks ago Linus Platt pedaled out of Moab, UT toward the north coast of Alaska. One of my clients, Easton Mountain Products (  http://www.eastonmountainproducts.com/tent/hat-trick-tent ), provided the tent and I agreed to post his emails. Below is his account of the miles from Lake Louise to southern Alaska.

 Well, my last update was in Lake Louise, Alberta, and now I am in Whitehorse, Yukon Territories. It has been one helluva ride, lemme tell ya…

I finally escaped Lake Louise and in the rain headed for Bow Pass and the Icefields. Snow “flakes” the size of golf balls greeted me on the descent towards the Sunwapta River. Once over Sunwapta Pass, I was greeted with the familiar views of the Columbia Icefield, Mt Athabasca, Mt Andromeda, Slipsrteam, and the Grand Central Couloir on Mt Kitchener. When I spied the Grand Central, I could see it still, after all these years, giving me the finger, from a botched attempt at climbing it over two decades ago…

 

Cruise up to Jasper and re-supply and on to the B.C. interior, stopping at the magnificent Crown Jewel of Mt Robson to shoot a time-lapse or two.. Robson rises over 10,000 feet from its base, and pretty much controls the weather patterns over the Northern R.

Down through the beautiful Robson Valley, I am immersed into a world of forest… Birch, Alder, Poplar, Fir, and Spruce. There is even temperate rain forest here with Hemlock and Cedar. The rivers are big, glorious, and plentiful.

 

I enter Prince George and am thrown into the grips if  everything I hate about cities, but soon I am out and on the Central B.C. Plateau. Mostly logging and farmland, it is not my favorite place on the trip, as there is very little camping and “open country”.

I rest a day in Burns Lake and head for Smithers, B.C.

 

Smithers is a great little mountain town that blows doors on ANY Colorado or California mountain town. I would live here if I could…

A couple of days later and I am on the fabled Cassiar Highway, one of two routes to the Yukon and Alaska. It is the more westerly, and remote of the two. The other option is the lower Alaska Highway. With only one re-supply near the end, I load up with 9 days of food and commit myself.

 

The first night, I pulled into an open area near the road and spot a dead grizzly, shot I presume. I am to tired and wet from a full day of rain to look elsewhere to camp, so I camp. I become intensely paranoid of the bears and sleep with one eye open.

 

Over the next 8 days, I witness some of the most remote and incredible scenery and wildlife one can see from a paved road. Big, glaciated, peaks, bears, moose, eagles, rivers, lakes. It bring tears to my eyes the natural balance I see before me, and makes think hard on where the human race is headed and why. There is much craziness in the world, but not here. Everything is as it should be.

 

Eventually, I come to the Alaska Highway, and pouring rain for many days. Riding a bicycle this far, this many miles, this many hours, in this much rain does funny things to ones mind. It MAKES you take a really hard look at yourself and the world around you. It is tough. I’m enlightened as I pass through Tesli, Yukon, and talk with some of the first nation people. They tell me of life in the North Country – of hunting and fishing, and of living through the long winters.

 

Finally I roll into Whitehorse! The sky is blue over the mighty Yukon River.. it is the first nice day in a week and I am glad to be ALIVE!

 

LP

Blown Knees, Hot Springs and Dead Bears

Linus is riding from Moab, Utah to Nome, ALaska.

The storm finally passed over this part of Idaho, and my knee swelling subsided, so it is time to hit the highway again. After crossing the Snake river, I entered the Snake River plains and north into Idaho’s fantastic mountains. Spent the Night on the Salmon River near Challis and really started to enjoy myself. For the next 2 days I pedaled and photographed my way up the Salmon River corridor, stopping at a fantastic hot spring that David Schipper told me about. This place was a one of a kind… a 3 mile hike up a beautiful and steep mountain canyon bring one to a literal waterfall of hot water, with pools of various temps below. Totally natural and with unforgettable views.

 
Onward…. up the Salmon to it’s head waters and over Lost Trail pass and into Montana.
More rainy pedaling and a stop in Missoulla to buy a new H2O filter put me on the map of the north country. I stayed in Whitefish for a couple of days to relax, and then bolted for the border.

 
British Columbia! B.C. is beautiful! I pedaled north, following the Kootenay River most of the time, and eventually entering Kootenay Nat’l Park at Radium Hot Springs. After climbing up the 10 percent pass into the Rockies proper, I stopped at a small lake at it’s summit called “Olive Lake” and cleaned up a bit. It started to rain. Starting down the other side, I spy a small Black Bear cub, dead, on the road. I stopped, and shooed the Crows off of it, and pulled it out of the road and off to the side. It was no bigger than a large dog. It’s fur was incredibly soft and claws very long. I spoke to it for a bit and bid it farewell to the afterworld and continued on. A quarter mile further, I look down and lock eyes with a Grizzly! I stop and speak softly to it and take some photos. Eventually, it wanders into the forest. Awesome! Then, not 200 yards further, I see a Black bear that was WAY big! She spots me and instantly bolts… Talking to a park employee later, I am told that the Black’s name is “Olive” named after the lake nearby where she is known to habitate. Apparently, she births 2 cubs every 2 years. The cub I found was hers… very sad

 
The next day, still raining, I finally cross Vermillion Pass and the continental Divide, and reminice of when my climbing partner at the time, Ron Alexander, RIP, pulled in here on our first trip of several, and climbed the N. Face of Mt Stanley. This place, these mountains, are the stuff of my dreams. Ron and I, and other partners went on to do the N. Faces of Robson, Athabasca, The W. Shoulder Direct on Mt Andromeda, and quite a few others. It has been nearly 20 years since I was last here. I’m feeling pretty blown away….
I am now at Lake Louise for the third day and now the rain has turned to snow. according to the weather forecast, it should improve tomorrow… then I can get to the Columbia Icefield where the REAL action is! Till next time….
Linus

Easton Tents bikes to Alaska

I was speeding my way into the north end of Helper UT after a day of meetings with Easton Mountain Products in Salt Lake City. I knew cops like to hang out at the mouth of the canyon to capitalize on motorists tendencies to gain speed as they exit the confining walls so I started to pay attention. What caught my eye was someone pedaling a bike into the canyon. Must be European without local knowledge I thought as I decelerated into the speed trap.

My mind was on the new tents I had just reviewed with the Easton Product Team. Last year we put the 2 person KILO Tent http://www.eastonmountainproducts.com/tent/kilo-tent on the market boasting a weight of less than a kilo (2.2lbs). Yesterday’s review covered the new, expanded product line that will be available in the spring of 2012 and my head was still spinning with the list of details I had to complete to perfect the line.

As I passed the bike it all came together. Linus Platt had told me about his bike trip to Alaska over coffee at the Love Muffin http://lovemuffincafe.com/ a few weeks back.  He told me he was starting from his home in Moab and riding his Salsa Fargo to northern Alaska over the course of the summer. When I asked about his tent he mumbled something about being covered. I told him about the KILO but his main criteria was that it be big enough to allow him to sleep without any chance of hitting the walls – something to do with bear country. I showed him the Easton’s Hat Trick http://www.eastonmountainproducts.com/tent/hat-trick-tent tent that is extremely roomy and comes in at about 5 lbs. That was the tent he was hauling out of Helper when I passed him.

Prone to Starsky and Hutch skidding u-turn I opted out in light of the speed trap and reversed my course to the next turn out above Linus. I guess I have this same apprehension when touring, maybe it’s a road-wise form of self-preservation… but Linus was giving me some pretty big stink face until he recognized me. I hadn’t expected to see him for another 4 months so this was a nice surprise.

Full bore into his trip, hauling what looked like 80 lbs on a trailer and front panniers, he instantly pulled me out of my product designer mentality and into his world of a adventure. My mind full of spec sheets, time lines, and bills of materials emptied as I was reminded that these bold adventures are the reason for my job.  

After catching up I asked if he needed anything – nope, good to go. I offered to publish his trip on my blog if he would leave me messages on my phone. My next posting will update his progress as he exits the US and makes his way through Canada.

Pictures are scarce – if you have one send it to me. www.outdoorlabs.com . Happy travels Linus!!

Yellowstone Park Traverse

Our ski traverse of Yellowstone Park is one of the top 5 trips of my life. Earlier this year Elevation Outdoor Magazine published  my account of our 10 day crossing.  The trip proved to be full value with a nice range of weather, terrain, scenery and an excellent partner.

Read the whole trip at http://www.elevationoutdoors.com/uncategorized/ski-traversing-yellowstone-national-park/ 

A special thanks to each of our sponsors. There were a bunch of people that put us up, shuttled us around and helped with details. Thanks!

David Schipper

www.outdoorlabs.com

Fourteen 14ers – Sponsors

When I look in my sock drawer I see the last decade of expeditions in Smartwool socks. Alaska, Europe, Nepal, Tibet and Pakistan – they are all the super thick mountaineering style wool in ascending order of ‘worn-out-ness’.  I’m reminded of the relationships that have developed over that time – professional and personal. 

Everything lined up nicely in the preparation phase. I made an effective one page brochure outlining the trip and stumbled onto the corny title – Fourteen 14ers. Trey Cook (Chamonixinsider.com) flew to Moab to help get me acquainted in the ‘social networking’ world of Facebook, Twitter, blogs and websites. I plugged into his program and things really took off. I searched out my favorite gear manufacturers, presented a plausible marketing trip , and everyone responded positively. 

As our departure date neared we ran into some personal/ family emergencies and challenging snow conditions. At this point I had the better part of 200 hours invested in the preparation and planning of this trip. My design and development responsibilities were scheduled to allow 2 weeks off and I had been carrying 50 lbs of bird seed through the LaSals for 6 weeks. We postponed the start by 2 weeks.

I have had several trips where every single thing went right – where you simply can’t do wrong. This was the yin to that yang. Everything (except gear – REALLY) from my health to team dynamics was compromised and we were on a trip needing more than that to complete. Not so much that each day was so ‘extreme’ but the accumulation of days and decisions had significance consequence. 

I was attached to this trip on every level and it was extremely difficult to let it go. Even today I am troubled by the sequence of events and how ineffective I was to salvage it. Since my return Brian and Trey, both team mates on K2 who have seen me at my best and worst , have helped me talk my way through it but my delicate ego still smarts and wants redemption. 

In our dynamic world I go to the back country for clarity. It is difficult to understand my experience in the mountains of central Colorado because things didn’t go the way I wanted. This week I had a glimpse of my skewed perspective. I take my health for granted, even with an occasional set back. I have under-estimated the opportunity to try.

SPONSORS

Most of the sponsorship of this trip is a result of personal relationships and friendships. Most of those are based less on my physical or ‘extreme’ endeavours and more on the creativity of the trip and that I am still going in my late 40s. The sponsorship on this trip is not based on the ability to get free gear or doing extraordinary feats but decades of personal relationships and trust. For years I shied away from promotion and sponsorship because it could shade judgment in the field. This year, in an effort to promote Outdoorlabs, my design and development company, I went more the route of blatant self-promotion. There were times it made me uncomfortable and others when it was fun.

National Geographic Maps www.natgeomaps.com For years I have used a GPS and National Geographic TOPO software to record and plan my trips into the Moab deserts. I mark everything from Anasazi sites to rock formations on my personal maps with these amazing tools. I introduced myself to Christy at the NGMaps booth (Outdoor Retailer Show), flashed my brochure and told her how much I liked their product. She introduced me to Kristi in marketing and we formulated a plan to use their software to plan our 14er route. Each team member got a copy of their Colorado 14ers map software so we could discuss route preparations on the phone with the software on our respective computers. It provided distance, elevation gain and loss and trails.

In the field we used the National Geographic - Trails Illustrated Maps of the area and custom maps of tricky areas printed on waterproof  ‘Adventure Paper’ from the software. I used the back of these maps as my trip journal.

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks Kris, Christy, Mike and Dan.

SCARPA www.scarpa.com provided the new super-lightweight 4 buckle Maestrale rando boot – available for the 2010/11 season. It combines 100+ downhill stiffness with a wide range of ankle movement in tour mode. It is also arguably (we’ll see in production) the lightest 4-buckle boot available for 2010/11. My size 28 shell weights 1285 grams each plus an intuition liner at 217 grams for a total of 1502 grams per foot.

Two things stood out during the 12 days I used it training, on the trip and a few days in the LaSals since. First is that that it skis downhill like an alpine boot AND when switched to tour it flexes as well as the SCARPA F1. The back of the cuff, where other boots prevent too much backward flex, is shaped to allow the leg to flex back from foot in a normal walking motion.

Second is the tongue hinges out of the way, even when the plastic shell is frozen from a night out, to allow foot to easily – yes, EASILY – insert my foot into the boot in cold weather.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks Kim, Massimo and Davide.

SMITH www.smithoptics.com provided each of us an extremely good pair of I/O goggles and a lightweight MAZE helmet. The goggles paired nicely with the helmet and securely stowed on the Maze when not needed. The helmet had removable insulated ear flaps that kept the helmet cool even on warm days.

I was able to stow my goggles in my helmet into the lid of my Black Diamond Quantum Pack lid.

Thanks Blair.

Easton www.eastonmountainproducts.com provided the XI2 Expedition Tent. Extremely roomy and lightweight because if its Carbon FX poles. I especially like that it can be set up from one side, by one person, fast and easily. The poles are all color coded to the pole sleeves to make it easy to figure out – even in wind and low light.

 We also used CTR 60 combination carbon/ aluminum poles. The lower aluminum section is much more resistent to breaking in scree and the upper carbon sections (2) are both lightweight and stiff. My favorite feature is the Rock-Lock clamp that is completely adjustable with gloves – no screw driver needed.

        

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks Chris.

SMARTWOOL www.smartwool.com as I mentioned before has been a part of my quiver for a while. They provided us with 100% Merino base layer – zip-t top and bottom, PhD ski socks and the super-warm Mountaineering Extra for camp. Wool has an amazing ability to not only have a great warmth for weight ration but it is categorically the best product I have ever worn for mitigating the effects of over-heating – both of which are common in Colorado.

PhD

Mountaineer

I have a ritual for keeping my feet warm at camp…..

Remove boot shell and separate liner.

Pull off damp ski sock and put it over shoulder, inside jacket, to dry. Yes, wool doesn’t retain odor but it does not remove the stink from my foot!!

Pull on dry camp sock.

Pull soggy liner over dry camp sock and pull over-sized bootie over liner.

Finish by covering the whole thing with waterproof custom-made bootie shells to keep feet dry. By morning feet, liners and socks are usually dry.

Add down pants in bitter cold.

Thanks CJ, Zach, Scott, Regan and Molle

GSI Outdoors www.gsioutdoors.com provided two 1 liter Infinity water bottles and the well thought-out Pinnacle Base Camp nesting cook set. Everyone (except me) replaced the grippy on the bottle with several wraps of emergency duct tape. The string-on-lid proved to be the friendliest lid attachment I’ve used and the notch on the lid makes it easy to remove even if it is a bit frozen.

The Pinnacle cook set nestled together well to take little space in our packs. The grooves on the bottom were key to keep the pots from slipping off the stoves if they were not level. Each plastic lid had a small handle that folded out-of-the-way and was convenient to use when needed. They also had built-in strainers for draining pasta water.

Thanks Don.

Black Diamond Equipment www.bdel.com makes the STS Climbing Skin and Icon Headlamp. New STS Skins allowed us to ski steep ascension hard packed snow. In addition to secure traction they did a great job of not collecting snow under foot when moving from wet, warm snow to colder, shaded snow. BD upgraded the front tip loop as the last great improvement on a solid workhorse.

The ICON Headlamp provided LOTS of light on the bright setting and lasted forever on the LED setting. It also fits nicely over helmets of all shapes and sizes. I used lithium cells.

Thanks Adam, Pieter, Brad, and the crew.

Dynafit Bindings www.dynafit.de are light and predictable. The combination of SCARPA’s toe insert and the LT Vertical binding made for easy entry in lots of snow or steep terrain. My skis and bindings weighted just over 3300 grams.

  

  

  

  

  

  

Thanks Keith and Pete.

Milt’s Diner - Moab, UT. Finest burgers and root beer floats in town! Thanks BC.

Moab Family Medicine – Moab, UT. Great advise, decent pool players and they answer my calls from the Collegiate Range. Thanks Ken, Jonas and staff.

Thanks everyone for following along, keep in touch – David.

Fourteen 14ers – Mt Antero 14,269′

Indifference is why I go to the back country. Time without human measure. My grievances with health, equipment, and judgment bear no consequence to the terrain I enter, only to the fickle rational of my influenced intellect.

Mt Antero has a 4×4 road almost to the top. Zach and Fritz sorted out the final route to the top while James packed up for our retreat down Brown Canyon. Both routes looked straight forward and we would meet at a car we stashed near Princeton Hot Springs later in the day.

I lamely offered to ski out alone, knowing their better judgment would never condone splitting the party with my health situation undefined. I felt badly that James was saddled with baby-sitting me out, actually it was honestly embarrassing because I knew it was his strength of character, or better judgment that would never allow him to shirk his responsibility… the same judgment I questioned two nights before was getting me out of the mountains now.

As the snow line approached and houses appeared I checked my phone for service. On a windy rock outcrop I called my skiing buddy/ doc to get the scoop on my health options. Surprisingly he said if I used enough drugs it was feasible to continue – if I hydrated properly.

Last year at this time James and I skied across Yellowstone Park together. It was a trip that I’ve told friends was one of the best five trips in my life. I value his friendship and trust him. As we sat in the parking lot waiting for Zach and Fritz, unable to find the connection from a year ago, I realized this was not about right or wrong – that was I brought into the hills. This was simply the inability of us to find solutions together, the whole of our team was much less than the sum of its parts.

James had it right when he said, ‘We knew EVERYTHING would have to go right for this to work – it’s a big trip’. Despite my recent health advise I was spooked. Not the clearly quantified insight in movies, but the instinctual realization that if I could not contribute to the success of this trip I no longer belonged on it – regardless of the rational.

Godspeed James, Zach and Fritz.

Fourteen 14ers- Mt Tabeguache 14,155′

It wasn’t a gentle nudge waking me up just after midnight. More of an instantaneous understanding that if I wasn’t outside of my tent in the shortest time possible there would be some smelly consequences… Since my early teens I’ve carried an intestinal hitch-hiker, a viral reminder of my human frailty. In the fraction of a second it took to move from dreams to action I remembered the heartbreaking, intermittent times this weakness had changed my hopes and dreams – the last time being camp one on Cho Oyu, Tibet in 2004. This was serious and I had just become the undeniable weak link. 

Between my interval training to get out of the tent and worrying about how to salvage my conditions I got no sleep for the rest of the night. I doubt James had much either.  We got up after dawn and as the sun lit the valley’s below I sparsely told James that I was dehydrated and weak from significant loss of blood. I suggested they shoot up Mt Tabaguache (our second peak – 14,155’) and meet me back at camp. They agreed and were up and back in the time I could catch a short nap.

 

Spirits were improving among the group and I was holding out for a miracle at lower elevations. Maybe with a short rest I could get my feet under me and continue. Water was still going through me flash flood-style and hydration was challenging but there was really only one way out and it seemed plausible even a bit under my best. From our 13K’ camp we traversed into the previous night’s drainage of contention and put on our skis. James was ready first and said he would ski to the top of the knoll, above the wind-loaded section – just above the segment that we could not see. Instead of following the most rudimentary, basic protocol of avalanche safety – marking him visually as he descended – I followed him down.  I had just tossed my avalanche safety merit badge down the drain.

The skiing was similar in consistency to the ice and ‘packed powder’ of my early days in Michigan with only occasional marks left from our turns. As we turned left into the unseen dog-leg the snow became considerably more chopped wind pack but harmless and very ski-able. My concerns about unknown terrain danger the night before proved unfounded and I sensed my credibility was plummeting. Again the sun was brilliant and temperature at noon was in the 60s. As we skied out of the drainage my body started to register the cost of my night’s adventures. I was light-headed, cranky and was having trouble keeping up with Fritz and James. It was also painfully clear I was in no condition to keep up with this crew in this situation.

 We took the afternoon off for my benefit and I tried to sleep myself back to health in our 11k’ camp. My guts were still in revolt but with less enthusiasm. Through a series of stilted conversations we devised a plan for tomorrow that would get Zach and Fritz up the next peak, Antero 14, 269’, while James and I skied out Brown Creek Trail. We would rendezvous at the bottom. I fell asleep early.

Fourteen 14ers – Mt Shavano 14,229′

Fritz expertly navigated his loaded teal green 4×4 van up the slippery snow and mud covered road below our first peak.  At 9:00 AM we started skiing through snowy sagebrush, across the anti-climatic high plains toward the Mt Shavano/ Tabeguache trailhead. It was already 65 degrees and the plan we agreed to yesterday, for a lighter day of skiing to ease into the trip was underway – Springtime in the Rockies style.

Acclimatization is the fickle game of predicting the rate your body will adapt to functioning at higher altitudes. It effects everyone differently and often inconsistently. In the late 90′s while developing outer wear  for The North Face, I was surrounded by some of the mountaineering legends of their sponsored athlete program – like being able to talk driving strategy with Michael Schumacher. I had been scheming ways to get to 8000m peaks and was hungry for their advise. Each said in their own version that fitness and the ability to adapt to altitude are often at odds in the mountains. ‘Fit guys are able to go too high too fast, then get into trouble because they have not acclimatized properly’. I heard what they said but it has taken more than ten years to understand the indifferent nature of the beast.

James outlined our route – according to our National Geographic Maps topo, we were starting at about 9,000′, we would ski over Mt Shavano at 14,229, descent to 13,600, over Tabeguache at 14,155′ then ski down to 11,000 via an unknown ridge off the northwest summit of our second peak, Tabeguache. It was the best we could see from our map and would also position us to summit peak 3, Antero – 14,269′, tomorrow. 6.000′ up – 3,500′ down – 8 miles.

Eventually we broke out of tree line by mid-afternoon, in six hours we were about a third of our vertical goal through the easiest terrain. We took a break in the sun to reward ourselves and eat some lunch. Our 50 lbs packs were slowing us down a bit but the temperature was still above 55 degrees and sun was everywhere.. We opted off the summer trail in favor of the most direct route up the center of the snow loaded drainage. A perfect combination of hard, wind packed snow and brand new Black Diamond STS Climbing skins on the bottom of our skis afforded us the opportunity to climb up the steepest, most strenuous line toward the summit. This crew saw STRONG! Each step required careful placement and a secondary ‘stomp’ to seat the directional hairs of the skins into the snow for traction. Lose purchase and your skis slide you and your load racing backward until you can arrest yourself with a maneuver best describe as a giraffe drinking water on ice.

Near the top of the gully leading us to 13.300′ the angle lessened and my mind started to wander. I looked at my watch and turned on my mental calculator for the first time that day. Our pace was slowing in relationship to elevation gained and at this rate we’ll be 9 hours into our day by the time we summit our first 14er. I looked around but could no longer find our casual day. It may have been hiding behind the second peak of our day’s agenda – Mt Tabeguache – but I couldn’t see that yet, either.

I caught up to Fritz (because he stopped) and said ‘I think we over-extended ourselves today’.

He looked at me apparently for clarification. ‘But this is our plan.’

I explained my calculation, ‘I think we should be aware of our pace and we may have to consider other options.’

‘But that’s what we do, we park the car and ski to the summit’.

Looking around there were few more options than backing down or camping above 13,000′. We stood taking it in as James and Zach approached. I restated a version of my thoughts to them and searched for our casual starter day again. I was reminded again we agreed to this plan at the car and we really had no other choices. After a bit more non-associative discussion we opted to summit Shavano then go down to the saddle below, which the map indicated might offer a less steep descent than the NW summit of Tabeguache, and re-evaluate.

For the last 1,000′ we climbed snow-covered scree about twice as steep as your average stairway with skis on our packs. This is an acquired taste best consumed/taken in small doses. From boulder to boulder each step seemed to be higher than my legs wanted and sapped my strength with the balance required. SCARPA had provided us with the very best boots they could offer – their Maestrale boots. They are super light and supple going uphill and stiff and responsive going downhill. Unfortunately there isn’t a boot out there that can change the stiff sole and restricted ankle movement to make it more friendly in scree - most likely, snow-covered scree and ‘more friendly’ rarely coexist.

Just before 6:00 PM we gathered on the summit of Mt Shavano - 14,229′ – nine hours into our casual day. I was dangerously close to having my ski-mountaineering merit badge revoked. Looking across the saddle to Tabeguache, a solid hour push with 1000 ft of descent and climbing  just to reach the summit, we didn’t even have to bring that option up. I was worked physically, out of water, and I was demonstrating hints of altitude intolerance. My instincts were cautioning against ‘epic’ and experience reminded me every decision remaining in our day would either contribute or prevent that end.

We descended more scree (a different kind of tricky) to the saddle between the two peaks with little light left in our day. We looked down the 2,500′ snow slope that we hoped would lead to a camp at the lowest altitude en route - 11’000. However we could not see the middle section of the descent due to the steepness of the slope. I skied down a few hundred feet to get a better view. The snow was so hard my skis were not leaving tracks, presenting the possibility of a violent collision with rocks below if we accidently fell. Looking down the snow-loaded slope I could see that just over halfway down the slope narrowed into a gully maybe 30′ wide, dipped under a 200′ long cornice/ drift, then dog legged left and out of sight for hundreds of feet. Scanning the area about half the drainages I could see ended in cliff bands and the others looked ski-able. From our viewpoint there was no way to know what was in the gully that was out of sight. Quite possibly it would go – but if it cliffed out, became significantly more of an avalanche risk or it slid we would have to deal with a rescue or a difficult exit in the dark, compromised from our strenuous day.

Fritz, Zach and James seemed sure the one square inch of uniform topo lines on our map, defining the section of gully we could not see, indicated a predictably safe descent . I had met some of the cartographers at the National Geographic Maps headquarters in Evergreen just before the trip and knew if the lines did not pan out to be as we hoped I could take it up with them, and their manager after the trip – if I was alive. I’m also weirdly afraid of the dark and am not completely sure yetis don’t lurk in the shadows. Consequently it wasn’t that unpredictable that I was not keen to ski blindly into a promising map interpretation – after our 10 hour day – at dusk - on our lighter day… . It would be safer in the morning with fresh legs and plenty of daylight if things got sideways.

Ultimately I refused to ski into the ‘chute of the unknown’ at dusk and we camped at 13,500′ - our group dynamics now completely polarized. I felt that the ‘too scared to ski the slope’ label that I was now being tagged with was not entirely fair. It wasn’t fear of the slope I could see but concern for entering a situation whose consequences were hopeful but absolutely unknown. Acceptable risk – ideally founded on experience and proved over time. Mine ran more conservative than theirs and because theirs were based equally on their perceptions it was difficult to synthesize. The inability to reconcile these types of differences could play on the outcome of our journey.

Dinner was a lonely affair of pasta, salami, cheese and more pasta – each item sulking in its own corner of the plate, separated by far more than just a pathetic excuse for an entrée divider. By standing up to the rest of my team for what I strongly believed was the only safe decision I had violated a bond among my Leadville compatriots and was overtly cast to the outside of the Xtreme Guy Club. I tried in vain to remember the secret handshake but all I could come up with was the Boulder Brodeo. Likewise, I wondered if I’d brought my membership card but realized I’d left it in the pocket of my BASE rig. Or was it still in my free-diving speedo? Or in that little pocket on the Red Bull helmet with my rocket cycle at the salt flats?

Strangely enough a fox approached our camp. At first it startled me but it was also somehow reassuring as it trotted through the edge of our headlamp beams. I climbed in my sleeping bag early and alone with the lights of Salida glittering a world away, unaware of what I would face in the upcoming hours.

April 10 – Annnnnnd, They’re Off!

Packing caches at Fritz's. Fuel? Check. Vaccuum-packed, fresh-roasted, Ethiopian Yirgacheffe coffee? Check. Everything else is ultimately superfluous.

After sorting and resorting the gear the crew packed up the caches and drove halfway around Colorado strategically placing them.

Burying the biggest cache of the trip, the Cottonwood cache.

The team's 14th and final fourteener, Mt Massive (14,421ft) seen from downtown Leadville.

At the trailhead with Mt Shavano (14,229ft) in the background.