At Hidden Peak, going up Twins. Feeling ok and like we can do it. It's going to be a long night though.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Terminal Cancer, Ruby Range
I saw a couple pictures a friend took while in NV this weekend and spontaneously decided to go on a little trip. I left SLC at 4:45 and made the boring, dark, solo drive to Elko, which is the launching off point to the Rubies. I planned on skiing the Terminal Cancer Couloir and nosing around a bit to see what else the place had to offer.
The Couloir looks imposing but the only difficulty lies in the narrow width that is sustained throughout. The hike from the car to the top of the couloir took about an hour.
From the top
It's easy to drop off the other side from the notch at the top of the couloir and skin over to a small peak that offers great views of the range. 
Easily day tripped, the Rubies make for a nice change of scenery to the Wasatch.
I made a super corny video filled with atrocious skiing that I'll post as soon I'm able to get it uploaded.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
WURL/Playing Pachinko, Part II
In my previous post I mostly talked about what we did. I think I’ll take some space now to mention what I think we could change and what I’d like to do next time. Also, I’ll steal some thoughts and words from Katsutaka Yokoyama, one of the peerless alpine climbing group, the Giri-Giri Boys from Japan. These are just my thoughts and don’t necessarily reflect Bart and Jared’s opinions, though I’d be interested to hear them after our disappointment settles a bit.
First, sleep, or rather a lack thereof, was a problem. Starting at 2 AM meant 1 AM wake up and 2ish hours of sleep for Jared and Bart. I made the mistake of napping on Thursday, thinking I might be able to sleep from 5 until after dark. I woke up at 6:30 and then wasn’t able to sleep at all after. I think a 5 AM start might make more sense in these winter/spring conditions especially since one of the technical cruxes is encountered early on. If thinking the whole thing might take 18 hours, we’d finish in the dark but should be starting more well rested.
Second, conditions were just OK. Waiting for the snow to settle to provide quick travel and easier skiing would save a lot of time and energy. And, would make toting around those crampons worthwhile.
Third, we carried too much water/food resulting in heavy packs. Too much, that is, if we plan on descending into Alta and climbing through Hidden Peak where provisions can be restocked. Which brings up some style issues. Should we go fully self supported? Have a car with a food cache at Alta? Fill water at Hidden Peak or bring a small stove to melt snow?
Last, and most important to me, is the route. We were trying to establish a winter version of the WURL, which stays entirely on the ridge from Broad Fork Twins, around the head of Little Cottonwood, and back along the ridge to Lone Peak. Because we are on skis, and want to incorporate some good descents it doesn’t make sense to stay on the ridgeline. Nor is that my goal.
This is where playing Pachinko comes in. Apparently Pachinko was a popular pin ball game in Japan in the 1970s full of erratic up and down movements on irregular trajectories. The Giri-Giri version of Pachinko is a linkup of multiple routes in the mountains. WURL stands for Wasatch ultimate ridge linkup and happens to go over all the peaks as a consequence. To do so it crosses through two ski resorts which when open, in my opinion pollutes the experience.
Yokoyama wrote, “Though climbers should leave no physical marks on a mountain, we like to believe our passion remains on the lines we draw. We want to follow the lines that only we can make out, that only we can climb….I realized that all of climbing is illogical. Because we live in a modern, rational world, the value of climbing increases with its irrationality. Pachinko – climbing up, coming back down, then repeating the process – has no rationale. It could be the answer to this age of advanced equipment, technical skills and information: Does our reliance on these means weaken our passion? If so, pick a mountain range. Open a map and trace a route, any route. When you do, you might see that we’ve only been playing on a portion of a mountain. The more you think about how to enjoy the mountain fully, the more possibilities you’ll discover. ”
Add skiing to climbing and it’s easy to watch the range grow as the possible linkups are much more plentiful than the lines themselves. I’d like to play this game again, but the most beautiful line to me would be a peak enchainment rather than a ridge traverse per se. It would include Twin, Sunrise, Dromedary, Monte Cristo, Superior, down to White Pine, up AF Twins, Red Stack, Red Baldy, White Baldy, Pheifferhorn, Chipman, South Thunder, North Thunder, Big Horn, Lone Peak. I would rather play Pachinko with the peaks outside the resort. This wouldn’t be the WURL and we’d lose a certain symmetry as well as Sugarload and Baldy from the experience. So what? They aren’t as aesthetic as the Thunders. And Lightening Ridge is far more beautiful than traversing above Alta.
Yokoyama talks about Ryoma Sakamoto, a nineteenth-century Japanese samurai and a Shi-Shi, a “man of inner resolution.” Yokoyama and a partner named an incredibly difficult route in Alaska Shi-Shi, to reflect that meaning. This route, in winter conditions will require self discovery that will push one’s limits. Who better to pioneer this particular peak enchainment than the SLC Samurai? (Not me, I’m the Sherpa who copied a blog name. But, I want to go along)
“I wanted to paint my way of living with the lines I climbed…In this world of boundless information, all you know for sure is what you see with your own eyes. But when you stand before a wall, you may have doubts. The act of climbing remains the only path a climber can trust. It is only when you act that you can truly see…Pachinko starts with a desire to keep climbing. And by continuously climbing, it takes on physical form. With fair weather, good luck and imagination, any modern climber should be able to discover his or her own Pachinko.”
-Katsutaka Yokoyama
Alpinist, Issue 26
First, sleep, or rather a lack thereof, was a problem. Starting at 2 AM meant 1 AM wake up and 2ish hours of sleep for Jared and Bart. I made the mistake of napping on Thursday, thinking I might be able to sleep from 5 until after dark. I woke up at 6:30 and then wasn’t able to sleep at all after. I think a 5 AM start might make more sense in these winter/spring conditions especially since one of the technical cruxes is encountered early on. If thinking the whole thing might take 18 hours, we’d finish in the dark but should be starting more well rested.
Second, conditions were just OK. Waiting for the snow to settle to provide quick travel and easier skiing would save a lot of time and energy. And, would make toting around those crampons worthwhile.
Third, we carried too much water/food resulting in heavy packs. Too much, that is, if we plan on descending into Alta and climbing through Hidden Peak where provisions can be restocked. Which brings up some style issues. Should we go fully self supported? Have a car with a food cache at Alta? Fill water at Hidden Peak or bring a small stove to melt snow?
Last, and most important to me, is the route. We were trying to establish a winter version of the WURL, which stays entirely on the ridge from Broad Fork Twins, around the head of Little Cottonwood, and back along the ridge to Lone Peak. Because we are on skis, and want to incorporate some good descents it doesn’t make sense to stay on the ridgeline. Nor is that my goal.
This is where playing Pachinko comes in. Apparently Pachinko was a popular pin ball game in Japan in the 1970s full of erratic up and down movements on irregular trajectories. The Giri-Giri version of Pachinko is a linkup of multiple routes in the mountains. WURL stands for Wasatch ultimate ridge linkup and happens to go over all the peaks as a consequence. To do so it crosses through two ski resorts which when open, in my opinion pollutes the experience.
Yokoyama wrote, “Though climbers should leave no physical marks on a mountain, we like to believe our passion remains on the lines we draw. We want to follow the lines that only we can make out, that only we can climb….I realized that all of climbing is illogical. Because we live in a modern, rational world, the value of climbing increases with its irrationality. Pachinko – climbing up, coming back down, then repeating the process – has no rationale. It could be the answer to this age of advanced equipment, technical skills and information: Does our reliance on these means weaken our passion? If so, pick a mountain range. Open a map and trace a route, any route. When you do, you might see that we’ve only been playing on a portion of a mountain. The more you think about how to enjoy the mountain fully, the more possibilities you’ll discover. ”
Add skiing to climbing and it’s easy to watch the range grow as the possible linkups are much more plentiful than the lines themselves. I’d like to play this game again, but the most beautiful line to me would be a peak enchainment rather than a ridge traverse per se. It would include Twin, Sunrise, Dromedary, Monte Cristo, Superior, down to White Pine, up AF Twins, Red Stack, Red Baldy, White Baldy, Pheifferhorn, Chipman, South Thunder, North Thunder, Big Horn, Lone Peak. I would rather play Pachinko with the peaks outside the resort. This wouldn’t be the WURL and we’d lose a certain symmetry as well as Sugarload and Baldy from the experience. So what? They aren’t as aesthetic as the Thunders. And Lightening Ridge is far more beautiful than traversing above Alta.
Yokoyama talks about Ryoma Sakamoto, a nineteenth-century Japanese samurai and a Shi-Shi, a “man of inner resolution.” Yokoyama and a partner named an incredibly difficult route in Alaska Shi-Shi, to reflect that meaning. This route, in winter conditions will require self discovery that will push one’s limits. Who better to pioneer this particular peak enchainment than the SLC Samurai? (Not me, I’m the Sherpa who copied a blog name. But, I want to go along)
“I wanted to paint my way of living with the lines I climbed…In this world of boundless information, all you know for sure is what you see with your own eyes. But when you stand before a wall, you may have doubts. The act of climbing remains the only path a climber can trust. It is only when you act that you can truly see…Pachinko starts with a desire to keep climbing. And by continuously climbing, it takes on physical form. With fair weather, good luck and imagination, any modern climber should be able to discover his or her own Pachinko.”
-Katsutaka Yokoyama
Alpinist, Issue 26
WURLOS Post Mortem
Yesterday, I didn't like skiing and I was done for the year. But that's because I was in a bad mood. This morning I woke up after 12.5 hrs of sleep, and began thinking about another attempt at the WURLOS. Mood swings.
As I posted below, we abandoned our attempt at what we have called the "WURLOS" at about 3:00 pm yesterday. By that time, we had been going for 13 hrs, had climbed 12,000 feet, and our travels had taken us from the S Curves in Big Cottonwood, up Broads, to Salt Lake Twin Peaks, to O'Sullivan, to Dromedary, around Sundial, up upper Mill B, to Monte Cristo, to Superior, to Alta, under Devils Castle, to Sugarloaf, across and up Mineral Basin, to Hidden Peak at Snowbird.
The first 8 hrs of our foray went as planned and were "blessed." We skied from the summits of 6 11k+ peaks on Cottonwood Ridge. We met our self-imposed time checks. We were confident. We had a few good laughs. At the top of Monte Cristo, I nearly fell off laughing when Andy turned around and looked at me. One of the lenses on his sunglasses had fallen out or had never been there. I asked, "what happened to your glasses?" He said, "huh?" And took them off and looked at them. He hadn't even noticed that one lense was missing.
AtAlta, we began an unrecoverable tail spin. Looking back, there were several reasons underlying our abandonment.
Here are some pictures from our tour:
My food. I'm taking less next time, or caching it.
Salt Lake Valley from Twin Peaks.
Ascending O'Sullivan. Twin and an unnamed 11k peak in the background.
Sunrise.
Skiing of O'Sullivan's east ridge down to Tanner's saddle. Bart commented that he would take a steep sideslip over a 100 turn powder run any day any time.
View of east ridge of O'Sullivan from Drom south face.
Summit of Drom.
We descended from Drom (where this photo was taken) to the Sundial (centerish in the photo). Miles of pure breakable crust!
Perhaps on the next WURLOS attempt we will follow Cottonwood Ridge a bit further. Monte Cristo and the Heart of Darkness at the end of the ridge.
Traversing between Monte Cristo and Superior.
Will there be a "next time"? . . . .
As I posted below, we abandoned our attempt at what we have called the "WURLOS" at about 3:00 pm yesterday. By that time, we had been going for 13 hrs, had climbed 12,000 feet, and our travels had taken us from the S Curves in Big Cottonwood, up Broads, to Salt Lake Twin Peaks, to O'Sullivan, to Dromedary, around Sundial, up upper Mill B, to Monte Cristo, to Superior, to Alta, under Devils Castle, to Sugarloaf, across and up Mineral Basin, to Hidden Peak at Snowbird.
The first 8 hrs of our foray went as planned and were "blessed." We skied from the summits of 6 11k+ peaks on Cottonwood Ridge. We met our self-imposed time checks. We were confident. We had a few good laughs. At the top of Monte Cristo, I nearly fell off laughing when Andy turned around and looked at me. One of the lenses on his sunglasses had fallen out or had never been there. I asked, "what happened to your glasses?" He said, "huh?" And took them off and looked at them. He hadn't even noticed that one lense was missing.
At
- Conditions. Good coverage, hard surface/cold temps, and low avalanche danger would make a WURLOS possible. It's hard to get these kind of conditions simultaneously. Unfortunately, our travel surface, for the most part, was not ideal. When we started at Broads at 6500k, I could easily sink my pole down to the ground. Not good. At about 9k and higher, the temps cooled down below freezing. However, the new snow that had fallen on Tuesday hadn't baked down yet, forming the dreaded breakable crust. These conditions on both the ascent and descent slowed us down and sucked precious energy.
- Exhaustion. Exhaustion is a given on a project like the WURLOS. But I was surprised at how sapped I felt 10 hrs into the tour. Where could I get the extra energy to go for 20 hours? I don't know, but I think I could do a few things differently. First, I wouldn't start at 2 a.m. My body isn't used to skiing in the middle of the night, and I don't function well on 2.5 hours of sleep. My partners kept telling me I was in a bad mood. I wonder why. It's not good to start a 20 hr push tired. Second, I would take some planned rest stops. We were on the march for 8 hours straight until we hit
Alta. Perhaps taking some time to rest and eat would have helped in the long run. Beyond that, I don't know. I guess I'll just have to man-up and pray a lot. - Gear. For the most part, our gear choice was spot on. Our ski and light setups worked perfectly. I am confident I can ski any part of the WURLOS on race skis in the dark. However, in our attempts to lighten up, our packs were too heavy. I carried a lot more food and water than I needed to. We didn't need crampons. I think if I were to make another attempt, I would leave my avalanche safety gear at home -- no beacon, probe, or shovel.
ALTA.Altadoesn't allow any uphill traffic and they are sticklers. No sweet talking. No reasoning. No nuthin. Including Devils Castle, Sugarloaf, and Baldy in any route is more trouble than it's worth ifAltais open. I can't say the same thing about Snowbird, because its employees are pretty reasonable when they meet uphillers. That said, I was irritated when Snowbird wouldn't allow us to ascend the AF Twins.
My food. I'm taking less next time, or caching it.
 |
| From April 17, 2010 (WURLOS) |
Salt Lake Valley from Twin Peaks.
 |
| From April 17, 2010 (WURLOS) |
Ascending O'Sullivan. Twin and an unnamed 11k peak in the background.
 |
| From April 17, 2010 (WURLOS) |
Sunrise.
 |
| From April 17, 2010 (WURLOS) |
Skiing of O'Sullivan's east ridge down to Tanner's saddle. Bart commented that he would take a steep sideslip over a 100 turn powder run any day any time.
 |
| From April 17, 2010 (WURLOS) |
View of east ridge of O'Sullivan from Drom south face.
 |
| From April 17, 2010 (WURLOS) |
Summit of Drom.
 |
| From April 17, 2010 (WURLOS) |
We descended from Drom (where this photo was taken) to the Sundial (centerish in the photo). Miles of pure breakable crust!
 |
| From April 17, 2010 (WURLOS) |
Perhaps on the next WURLOS attempt we will follow Cottonwood Ridge a bit further. Monte Cristo and the Heart of Darkness at the end of the ridge.
 |
| From April 17, 2010 (WURLOS) |
Traversing between Monte Cristo and Superior.
 |
| From April 17, 2010 (WURLOS) |
Will there be a "next time"? . . . .
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