climber.girl1
Ski Diva Extraordinaire
Okay, so I was going to post this in trip reports, but after seeing Lori's post about self-arresting, I thought I would put it here, instead.
Soooo, I was headed up to ski Solitude this morning with the SO. After one warm-up run on a blue/black run, we headed out the Navaronne Gates into Honeycomb Canyon (one of about four gates into Honeycomb). Well, apparently they had moved the gate since the last time the SO had skied that gate (he taught at Solitude for ten years). Soooo... we headed out a traverse to skiers left, and after only about ten yards, found ourselves setting a new traverse.
We were cutting the traverse into slopes that varied from maybe 40 degrees to maybe 55 degrees (i.e., VERY VERY STEEP
) in about a foot on new snow, maybe more, and we kept sending little sluffs of snow rolling down the hill.
The traverse was very up-and-down, rolling through gullies and then up over shoulders of rock/cliff bands. And every 50 to 100 feet, we saw little yellow patrol signs that said "warning: Cliff area".
SO kept saying, one or two more gullies, and we'll be in this great open apron of nicely spaced trees (maybe 35-40 degrees... GOOD stuff). I was getting more and more nervous. Every time he'd cut the traverse across a gully, I'd wait on the traverse above a pine tree or fallen log, because I knew that if I slid, it would be a one-way ticket down a steep slope and over the cliffs I knew were only 50-80 feet down the hill from us.
The fresh snow kept chunking out under my skis, and some of the traverses were uphill, making them even more treacherous!
Well, eventually SO figured out that the gates had moved and we were no where NEAR where he thought we were! Now, I have great faith in him, which is well placed, but man, I was starting to wonder what sort of rescue assist we were going to need! 
SO decided to ski down the gully we were in because he thought he saw a chute we could get down. (Also, the next shoulder of rock looked too high to traverse over.) Two turns, and his skis took the top two inches of snow off a steep rock section. I thought my heart was going to stop. I told him I was getting really really nervous, and standing fifty feet down a very steep slope above a cliff, he said "wish you'd said that ten seconds ago!" There was no going back...
I chose to side slip down the slope above a nice large pine tree, but then had to make one quick turn with skis pointed straight down the fall line to dodge between the pine tree and the rock band. Ugh!
After a kick turn (can we say nervous about falling??), more side-slipping, and some traversing, we found a twenty foot tall chute in the rock band, kind of like a chimney, about two to three feet wide at the top. There was a lot of exposed rock in it, and a big pine at the bottom center as it opened out.
Well.
After side-slipping to the edge of the chimney over bushes, which are very slick and not meant to be skied on, by the way, we dug out "snow seats" so we wouldn't slide off, and SO proceeded to remove his skis and HUCK them down the chute, then down-climbed after them!
When he was down and clear, I took my skis off, and for whatever reason, decided to huck them tail first. Good call, as they bounced off the rock walls. MY BABIES!
(Yeah, the tails were slightly damaged, but not too badly :( )
Thank goodness I was wearing Alpine Touring boots! I switched to the "walk" setting for more flexibility, and with the vibram soles, down-climbing wasn't too bad (SO and I are both pretty proficient climbers, thank goodness!)
Interestingly, SO usually keeps a length of climbing rope in the ski pack for just this kind of thing (ummm... emergencies?!?!), but had removed it early in the week! It's going back in the pack tonight!!
Anyway, the promised beautiful apron of snow through aspens finally opened up below us, but at that point I had so much adrenaline coursing through my system, and my nerves were so shot, that I couldn't ski worth a dang. :(
We finally made it back to the chair lift out of the canyon... That "run" ended up taking us an hour and fifteen minutes!
We immediately headed down to the lodge, where I had a large cup of coffee with baileys to recover my remaining equilibrium! Talk about a heinous second run of the day!
Well, I collected my wits and we managed to ski a bunch more black diamond and out-the-gates terrain (getting back on the horse, for sure!). It turned out to be a good day, but I'll tell you what... know where you're headed before you traverse ANYWHERE.
That was an experience I'll never forget. And it's a reminder to have all your gear (rope would've been nice, at least for mental comfort or if things had gotten worse), and know your skills (kick turns, one-at-a time across dangerous terrain) before you even think of heading into serious terrain. (Yes, we had our beacons, shovels, and probes, as well!)
And in the end, I don't blame the SO. He really believed he knew where we were, and he had the knowledge, skills, and confidence to get us both out safely (I would have hugged a pine tree and cried until a helicopter came for me if I had been alone! :p ) And now I know a little bit more, too! What a learning experience!
At least the powder was good the rest of the day!
Soooo, I was headed up to ski Solitude this morning with the SO. After one warm-up run on a blue/black run, we headed out the Navaronne Gates into Honeycomb Canyon (one of about four gates into Honeycomb). Well, apparently they had moved the gate since the last time the SO had skied that gate (he taught at Solitude for ten years). Soooo... we headed out a traverse to skiers left, and after only about ten yards, found ourselves setting a new traverse.
We were cutting the traverse into slopes that varied from maybe 40 degrees to maybe 55 degrees (i.e., VERY VERY STEEP
) in about a foot on new snow, maybe more, and we kept sending little sluffs of snow rolling down the hill.The traverse was very up-and-down, rolling through gullies and then up over shoulders of rock/cliff bands. And every 50 to 100 feet, we saw little yellow patrol signs that said "warning: Cliff area".
SO kept saying, one or two more gullies, and we'll be in this great open apron of nicely spaced trees (maybe 35-40 degrees... GOOD stuff). I was getting more and more nervous. Every time he'd cut the traverse across a gully, I'd wait on the traverse above a pine tree or fallen log, because I knew that if I slid, it would be a one-way ticket down a steep slope and over the cliffs I knew were only 50-80 feet down the hill from us.
The fresh snow kept chunking out under my skis, and some of the traverses were uphill, making them even more treacherous!
Well, eventually SO figured out that the gates had moved
and we were no where NEAR where he thought we were! Now, I have great faith in him, which is well placed, but man, I was starting to wonder what sort of rescue assist we were going to need! SO decided to ski down the gully we were in because he thought he saw a chute we could get down. (Also, the next shoulder of rock looked too high to traverse over.) Two turns, and his skis took the top two inches of snow off a steep rock section. I thought my heart was going to stop. I told him I was getting really really nervous, and standing fifty feet down a very steep slope above a cliff, he said "wish you'd said that ten seconds ago!" There was no going back...
I chose to side slip down the slope above a nice large pine tree, but then had to make one quick turn with skis pointed straight down the fall line to dodge between the pine tree and the rock band. Ugh!
After a kick turn (can we say nervous about falling??), more side-slipping, and some traversing, we found a twenty foot tall chute in the rock band, kind of like a chimney, about two to three feet wide at the top. There was a lot of exposed rock in it, and a big pine at the bottom center as it opened out.
Well.
After side-slipping to the edge of the chimney over bushes, which are very slick and not meant to be skied on, by the way, we dug out "snow seats" so we wouldn't slide off, and SO proceeded to remove his skis and HUCK them down the chute, then down-climbed after them!
When he was down and clear, I took my skis off, and for whatever reason, decided to huck them tail first. Good call, as they bounced off the rock walls. MY BABIES!
(Yeah, the tails were slightly damaged, but not too badly :( )Thank goodness I was wearing Alpine Touring boots! I switched to the "walk" setting for more flexibility, and with the vibram soles, down-climbing wasn't too bad (SO and I are both pretty proficient climbers, thank goodness!)
Interestingly, SO usually keeps a length of climbing rope in the ski pack for just this kind of thing (ummm... emergencies?!?!), but had removed it early in the week! It's going back in the pack tonight!!
Anyway, the promised beautiful apron of snow through aspens finally opened up below us, but at that point I had so much adrenaline coursing through my system, and my nerves were so shot, that I couldn't ski worth a dang. :(
We finally made it back to the chair lift out of the canyon... That "run" ended up taking us an hour and fifteen minutes!
We immediately headed down to the lodge, where I had a large cup of coffee with baileys to recover my remaining equilibrium! Talk about a heinous second run of the day!
Well, I collected my wits and we managed to ski a bunch more black diamond and out-the-gates terrain (getting back on the horse, for sure!). It turned out to be a good day, but I'll tell you what... know where you're headed before you traverse ANYWHERE.
That was an experience I'll never forget. And it's a reminder to have all your gear (rope would've been nice, at least for mental comfort or if things had gotten worse), and know your skills (kick turns, one-at-a time across dangerous terrain) before you even think of heading into serious terrain. (Yes, we had our beacons, shovels, and probes, as well!)
And in the end, I don't blame the SO. He really believed he knew where we were, and he had the knowledge, skills, and confidence to get us both out safely (I would have hugged a pine tree and cried until a helicopter came for me if I had been alone! :p ) And now I know a little bit more, too! What a learning experience!
At least the powder was good the rest of the day!
