Accident in the Sawtooth // February 18, 2016

"Alright, dropping."  I call to Jess as I side slip through the choke of Defibrillator chute.  Its tight with the nose of my board scraping on a rock to the right and a tree blocking me to the left.  There is another rock on the left side about ten feet further on, but after that, soft, fresh powder.

As I clear the first rock I calmly turn my board 90° and point it past the next rock.  I knick a buried rock on my way by, but it does little to affect my trajectory.  Picking up speed quickly on this ~45° slope, I hit the powder fast and I lay down a quick heal side turn.  Before I know it I'm in the whiteroom.

I can't see anything.

I'm still calm as I try to cut a little more speed and wait for the snow to settle.   The snow is light, hanging in the air.  One second passes, two seconds... it feels like an hour and its still not clearing.

Slowly the walls of the couloir begin to come back into view but as soon as I can see the outlined shape of the walls I feel my board pulled out from under me.  Before I can process whats happening I'm on my butt, sliding.  I'm moving fast and as I go to stand up I flip over the front, cartwheeling forward and picking up more speed.

I'm still not worried, I've flipped before and always been able to recover it.

I go to stand up a second time, and can't get my board under me with how fast the snow is moving.  It sends me into another flip this time landing with my board above me, sending me into another roll.

Its soft, but as I land off this next flip I look to my left and see how much snow is moving.  Not the innocent sluff that means theres a bit of new snow on top, but a powerful force of snow as far as I can see.

Is this really happening?

As I realize how little control I have on the situation time slows down and fear sets in.  No matter how strong and skilled of a rider I am, the mountain doesn't care and the snow is pushing me down hill at an ever increasing velocity.

Everything feels so surreal.  This is what we talk about constantly.  The fear of anyone going into the mountains in search of powder to ski.  We prepare day and night for what we hope will never happen to any of us.  Yet here I am flying down this high consequence line with little control over where It sends my body.  I got myself into this and accepted the risk as soon as I decided to ski it.  Its part of the game, its part of feeling alive, there has to be some risk involved otherwise its not worth it.  Unfortunately with lines like this one, there is very little margin for error and I just stepped outside of that margin.

Without hardly acknowledging my decision, my body decides I need to get away from this river of snow and I swim around to get my board under me.  I can't stand up, but am able to guide my board to the right, away from the ever expanding avalanche.

As slow as time is moving right now, I still don't even see the tree until I'm almost on top of it.  I go to make a toeside turn, but am too backseat to get my weight forward.  My only option is to try and cut back left.

Too late.

I hit the tree full force with the front of my board and my right forearm, sending me into a front flip. An excruciating pain ignites in my right knee.

I land on my heal edge and look up to see another tree dead center, ten feet ahead.

This one I'm not avoiding.

I accept the fact that I have no control over this situation, and a strange calm sets in.  I'm going with the flow, no longer fighting.  The fear melts away as I accept my fate,  I'm going to live but it may not be pretty.

I brace my self to take the blow between my bindings and close my eyes waiting for the impact.

nothing...nothing??  Magically the tree is gone and I'm on the other side.  I didn't feel a thing. huh?

Without trying to figure out what just happened I cut hard right away from the slide and into the apron.  As soon as I feel that I am safe,  my knee gives out and I fall back into the snow with a fire radiating up my leg.

A calm voice comes through the mic "Are you alright?"

I can hardly talk through the pain, "My knee....not good....all the snow went."  I manage to gasp between breaths before I'm doubled over in pain again.

Jess replies that he saw the whole thing happen, that he'll be right there.  Adrenaline is coursing through my veins as I sit trying to breathe through the pain.  Looking back I see Jess gracefully jump-turning down the upper section.

As he arrives, the pain slowly becomes manageable and I am able to ski down the remaining few hundred feet to forth lake.

I'm still in a state of shock as we transition and prepare to skin.  I'm cold and the storm is only picking up.  I pop two ibuprofen and start walking.  The only other option being to construct a rescue sled and having Jess pull me out.  Having just practiced this we know how miserable this would be.  Not an option in my book if I can help it.

Every step I grimace, but I have to keep moving.  Eventually the hut comes into view, and with that a sigh of relief.

I drop into a seat next to the fire, my head spinning with questions and images of the slide burned into my memory.

A view of the entrance

______________________________________
As I sit here with my knee elevated back at East Fork, I realize how lucky I was to walk away from this incident.  Someone died skiing this exact line a few years back, and somehow I made it out with a sore knee.  I'm grateful for all of Jess' help and for Joe's and Francie's support as I rest and recover, both physically and mentally.

Life in the Mountains

The beautiful Pioneers

This place is magic.  Its either snowing, sunny, or "partly cloudy" which mean there might be a few wispy clouds floating through the sky.  As I drive through town, the sun reflects off of beautifully spooned ski tracks that are visible on just about all the hills surrounding the road.  This place is a mecca for skiing, and with little to do outside of the mountains, when its winter, its winter.

Home Sweet Home

Living up the East Fork of the Wood River, our log cabin is located at the edge of the Pioneer range, directly between Hailey and Ketchum, the two main towns in the southern part of the Wood River Valley.  As you head further north, houses slowly disappear, to be replaced by bigger and bigger mountains.  Heading north on ID-75, The Smokey Mountains expand to the West and the Boulders loom to the East.  Galena Pass, topping out at 8701', marks the divide between the Southern and northern ranges, with the jagged Sawtooth mountains looming to the north of the pass.  Often holding more snow than the other ranges, these mountains offer some incredible skiing, from lower angle trees, to steep, alpine couloirs; there is something for everyone.

Coming down Fuji!
Photo: Ethan Davis

Everett and Chris making their way through some wind affect on the Peanut

5th lake Basin, looking up at Hayburn Mountain

Working with Sun Valley Trekking, my days are either spent skiing, skinning, studying snow or maintaining the huts.  We have 6 huts/yurts located in the Pioneer, Smokey and Sawtooth Mountains, each offering something different.

Days that Im not in my snowboard boots are considered "rest days".  These are far and few between and man are they important!

Every Monday at 7:00 am the entire guide outfit gets together for our weekly meeting and check in.  We are a small group and rarely exceed 10 at these meetings.  Here is where we discuss snowpack, weather history and forecast, avalanche activity & hazard as well as whats skiing good.  Each week I understand more and more of the discussions and feel grateful to be surrounded by such dedicated & passionate people.

Checking out the snow on top of Fuji
Photo: Everett Coba

At least once a week we head out on a hut trip, generally to resupply the hut, check in and make sure everything is working properly, and, of course, to ski.  Often times we're pulling full sleds weighing over 50 lbs, along with our overnight and ski gear on our backs.  Needless to say, my hip flexors are getting strong!

Everett on the way into Fish Hook

Chris and Randall making their way up Mushroom Ridge

Sunrise in the Sawtooth

Although skiing every day may sound like a dream come true to many, there are a lot of sacrifices that have to be made in order to make this happen.  Whereas skiing has always been my escape, when I'm on my board everyday I find myself missing other parts of life that I usually take for granted.  I miss live music and hanging out in the garden.  I miss riding my bike and female companionship.  I miss dinner with friends and seeing my family.  In the moment right now I find myself questioning how committed I am to this lifestyle and if its worth it to give up so much to live this dream.


However, there are always two sides to a coin and I know that shortly I will be looking back on these days and miss the simplicity of focusing on a sole discipline.   Im surrounded by so many smart, knowledgable people and the experiences I'm gaining this winter I will carry with me for the rest of my life.  Whether I'm digging snow pits with avalanche forecasters, tail guiding in the smokies, or climbing high in the Sawtooth mountains, Im constantly learning, and that in itself makes it all worth it.

Whether I return next year or not, only time will tell.  But I'm here now and I am putting myself fully into this world.

The Chicken Foot // February 6, 2016

So with half the house down and out with a head cold, Jess and I decided to head out for the day and explore a new zone.  Every time we are heading south on I-75 there is one line that always stands out high up above Murdock Creek.  It has three distinct chutes dropping in off the ridge, all coming together about 1/3 of the way down.  Around here it is known as the Chicken Foot.  Having been looking at this line for the last two months we decided that Saturday was the day to check it out.

Jess taking temperatures in the pit

When were skiing just about everyday, I do not have the motivation to get started really early in the morning.  The sun doesn't rise until 8:00 am and its generally cold until 9 or 10am.  With this morning being no exception, we had a relaxing start and didn't arrive to the trailhead until 10 am.

With warm temperatures and clear skies from the day before, the southerly slopes had been baked and now held a brutal crust for skinning.  Going from breakable to bulletproof, going was slow to start.  After about two hours we finally hit the ridge, where the views got better and the snow improved; spirits were high as we sat looking out over the valley eating lunch.

After 3 1/2 hours the drop in came into view and we decided to check the snowpack on a similar aspect before heading up.  Although this line doesn't carry the consequences of some steeper lines, we wanted to see how reactive the layer from 1/13 was as well as to practice our technique.  No matter how many times I dig and look at the snow, I feel that each time I get a little more efficient and learn a little more.

Jess getting ready to drop

After poking around for the better part of an hour, the snowpack looked solid, we finished the walk to the top and dropped in.  Although it wasn't blower powder, it was a beautiful line and I can never complain about first tracks down 2000' of vertical!

Jess ripping down!

The trip took about 6 hours car to car and it couldn't have been a better day.  After so many short shots around this area it felt good to have an objective, do one long climb and nail the conditions.  Hopes for many more to come!

The Energy Bar Chronicles

#1

-Oats
-Peanut Butter
-Dates (Processed)
-Almonds( sliced, whole, etc..)
-Maple syrup

Add and mix until it all stays together like a snowball.  Mass down on a baking sheet with either parchment paper, aluminum foil or just oil.

Freeze for 15 minutes, take out and cut to desired size.

Results:
Tasty, fell apart...

#2

-Oats
-Peanut Butter
-Dates (Processed)
-Almonds( sliced, whole, etc..)

Add and mix until it all stays together like a snowball.  Mass down on a baking sheet with either parchment paper, aluminum foil or just oil.

Freeze for 15 minutes, take out and cut to desired size.

While freezing, melt chocolate in double boiler

Once cut, pour chocolate over each bar and sprinkle sliced almonds on top.

Results:
Great, simple, stayed together!

#3 

4 Cups of blended #3018 trail mix from Bellevue bulk
      Craisins, raisins, dried apple pieces, sunflower seeds, cashew pieces, pepitas
1 Cup shredded Coconut
1 Cup oats
1.5 Cups sliced almonds
15 dates (pitted and processed)
5 T Maple syrup
10 T Peanut Butter

Results:
Perfect?

Next time:
hemp seeds
flax seeds
chia seeds

#4

2 cups blended pepitas
2 cups coconut
4 cups oats
1 cup sunflower seeds
15 dates (pitted & processed)
10 T PB
2 bananas

Results:


Next Time:
Less oats

...to the Expansive: Exploring Idaho

After Two months of living here I feel that I am finally beginning to get a grasp on the terrain here.  And, man, is it endless...

Me and Jess watching the sun set over the pioneers
Photo: Everett Coba

In the Ball Room off Mushroom!
Photo: Chris

Watching the sun set...for 3 hours
Photo: Chris Cullaz

Enough said.

Chris and Everett looking up into Profile Lake Basin

Randall Stacy scouting the his line off Titus Ridge

Psyched!
Photo: Everett Coba