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Aspanglation Andrew
McLean
v.
Of, or pertaining to the three key elements of
finding good skiing — [asp]ect, [angl]e
and elev[ation]. Through careful aspanglation,
they frolicked in deep powder days after the
last storm.
Good
skiing almost always exists — it's just a
matter of deciding what's going to be good on a
certain day and where to find it. With so many
variables, it helps to distill your thought process
down to the essentials.
[Aspect] — North,
south, east or west? North will hold powder (and
avalanche hazards) longer, south gets more sun
and will set up faster, east gets morning sun (corn)
and afternoon cooling (crust) and west is just
the opposite.
[Angle] — Mellower
or steeper? In deep snow, it can be a fine line
between finding something that's steep enough to
turn in, yet shallow enough to be safe. Shallower
slopes can be better in crusty, breakable conditions
as you can stay on top of the crust. Steeper slopes
can make six inches of new snow seem like it's
thigh deep.
[Elevation] — Salvation
through elevation. High elevations get more wind
and can often times be blown out. They are also
colder, so if there's no wind, the snow will be
softer. Lower elevations are generally warmer,
so they settle out faster and become supportable
and/or stable sooner.
Just
after a storm, consider starting out on a shallow
angle, low elevation, south-facing slope. These
will generally be the safest and most fleeting,
with good snow lasting perhaps only through the
day of the storm. As the days wear on, move up
in elevation and slope angle, and start working
your way more toward northern aspects. When the
last bastion of powder has been exhausted (high,
steep, north facing), start looking for areas that
have had the most settling and will at least be
supportable. Last but not least, go with the flow — don't
search for powder in the middle of a corn cycle
or vice versa.
So,
while there's no shortage of bad snow to be skied,
aspanglation is a good way to ensure that it's
not you that does it. Whatever the snow conditions,
don't forget your quiver of rescue tools, rescue
techniques and first aid when heading into the
backcountry. To increase your knowledge, check
out one of the many avalanche courses offered throughout
the winter. The Avalanche Forecast Centers are
a great place to get the proper training and instruction — see
page 31 for contact information.
Andrew
McLean
This guy
is not only one of the best athletes of our time,
he continues to embark on projects that would make
most of us pee ourselves. Recently, Andrew returned
from Baffin Island where he traction kited for hundreds
of miles only to ravage (read: ski) Baffin’s
previously un-skied chutes. He also mentioned something
about fighting off several polar bears with his bear
hands, saving hundreds of Inuit women and children
from near death and being crowned the king of Baffin
as a result. Very interesting, Andrew.
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Sisters
in the Steeps Marie-Laurence
Bevington
I
almost bailed on “Sisters in the Steeps.” The
women's ski and avalanche workshop fell in the
driest Colorado since April 1968. Word on the street
said the backcountry was melting ruthlessly. What's
more, the hosting ski area, Silverton Mountain,
huddled in the precipitous San Juans, did not lend
itself to the “fake it till you make it” skier.
Silverton Mountain heralds tight chutes and a dearth
of moderate terrain. Most of all, I was catching
cold feet at the notion of embarking on an adventure
with 15 felines. This was a new paradigm for me,
unfamiliar and scary. But with a little yoga and
positive thought, I committed to doing my best
and prayed that the sisters would accept me.
In
spite of my hesitation, I found myself in a room
full of fit and enthusiastic women hoping to “improve
decision making” and “gain confidence,” under
the tutelage of our instructors: Leslie Ross, Jenny
Ader and other seasoned female telemark skiers,
pro snowboarders and avalanche forecastors. The
group felt welcoming and motivated. We had already
doubled the female population of Silverton, Colorado.
After
searching for avalanche beacons in the parking
lot and examining the AvaLung, the renovated 1972
chair lift whisked us up 1900' to a pass aloft
the Colorado Basin. There we dismounted our boards,
and hiked a ridge to the top of an avalanche gully
called The Colorado Run. One of our instructors
offered advice and caution, then immediately pointed
her board down the fall line. At once, I was enveloped
in a descending sea of aggressive and graceful
women.
The
force of these women diving into gravity's arms
warmed my cold feet. There was a power in this
group that I hadn't experienced in mixed company.
It was as if the lack of gender barriors urged
us to enhance our strengths and breathe through
our weaknesses. Inspired by this rush of raw spirit,
I began to kick my own buttocks, just so I could
strive to match the sisters. Informed decisions
were made and variable conditions were negotiated.
By the afternoon, we were a unified band of babes,
hiking up an exposed and corniced ridge.
After
passing up our destination couloir due to a steep
entrance and a setting sun, we chose a serpentine
col that emptied into a bowl of pristine snow.
One at a time, we picked our way through the stripe
of white, bracketed by alpine rock. Soon the wave
of women were together again laughing, sharing
Scoobie snacks and telling stories.
At
the end of this first day, I asked another sister
what seemed different about hanging in the backcountry
with a bunch of sisters. She looked at me, smiled,
and said, “The boys would have gone down
that first chute.”
Mary-Laurence
Bevington
Mary
has been a Colorado Outward Bound Instructor for
nine years and now juggles instructing with freelance
writing and massage therapy in Boulder, Colorado.
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Backcountry
Avalanche Centers Doug
Abromeit
Backcountry
skiers and snowboarders need to know before they
go. And one of the best ways to know is to access
your local Avalanche Center each morning right
after you brew that triple shot cappuccino.
And
here's why. Avalanche accidents kill people. In
fact, they kill more people on public lands than
any other natural disaster. But avalanches don't
happen by accident; they only happen in certain
terrain with certain snow conditions. If you can
identify those conditions you can solve the avalanche
puzzle.
Avalanche
Centers can help you solve the puzzle. Avalanche
Centers issue public advisories that contain critical
snowpack and weather information; they are our
link with what's been happening while we are at
work, at school or asleep. Avalanche Centers also
offer courses that show how to field assess avalanche
danger, how to travel safely in avalanche terrain
and how to carry out a fast and effective rescue.
Obviously
Avalanche Centers cannot assure our safety in the
backcountry; but Avalanche Center classes and advisories
can provide the tools we need to make good choices
and to react decisively in an emergency.
Avalanche
Centers could not provide those tools without public
support. Typically thirty to fifty percent of the
funding for an Avalanche Center comes from public
contributions. In other words, without public support
many Centers would have to either shut down or
significantly scale back their services.
Over
the years, backcountry skiers, snowboarders, climbers,
and snowmobile riders forged partnerships with
the Forest Service and other state and federal
agencies to help operate the centers. Their cooperative
efforts netted an efficient, cost effective system
staffed by some of the most respected and dedicated
avalanche professionals in the world.
But
recently increased demands combined with flat or
reduced budgets have left many Avalanche Centers
stretched to the breaking point. Heightened public
support is vital as the Centers struggle to meet
the needs of all of us that journey into the mountains
in winter.
The
Avalanche Centers, much like a wind-loaded powder
slope, exist in a delicate balance between the
stress of demand and the strength of funding. Backcountry
users rely on Avalanche Centers to help them solve
the avalanche puzzle. Avalanche Centers rely on
backcountry users to help fund the Centers. Good
decisions and honed skills will determine whether
the balance can be maintained.
Doug
Abromeit
Doug
directs the Forest Service National Avalanche Center
in Ketchum, ID. Doug lives to backcountry ski. He
also teaches at the National Avalanche School and
has produced two avalanche awareness videos.
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The
Forbidden Tour Martin
Volken
The
North Cascades are perhaps best known for what
they lack: powder. While the legends about “Cascade
cement” are grossly exaggerated, it is a
fact that the snowpack is maritime — a euphemism
for wet. It's also a fact that the average snowfall
is enormous. Combine 450 inches of snow a year
with young mountains jutting 6000 vertical feet
above alder-choked valleys and you've got the rowdiest
mountain wilderness in the lower 48.
Being
a Swiss mountain guide, I instantly felt at home
here and started exploring the North Cascades on
skis. The rugged terrain, wild glaciers, and spectacular
relief were all I needed to keep coming back. Maybe
one sees things the way one has to, but the snow
quality became secondary to me. These mountains
were about more than turning. They were about applying
your mountain sense to find a safe passage through
a primeval domain. They were about corn, crust,
powder, bergschrunds, crevasses, avalanches, changing
weather, crazy views, big vertical, fluted ridges,
unreal snowpacks and deep wilderness. They were
a place skiers could roam without intersecting
other tracks. To me this was a range that combined
European-like alpine terrain and American-style
wilderness.
On
one hand, the ruggedness of the landscape is probably
what has kept the ski guiding industry from flourishing
here. On the other hand, this terrain creates opportunities — it's
a place with teeth and a place where those who
are willing to push their limits may truly feel
the need of a specialist. And that is what guiding
has always been about — finding someone who,
both physically and figuratively, can take you
another step deeper, another step higher, in the
mountains.
It
was while reading accounts written by Fred Beckey
and surveying topo maps of the North Cascades that
I concluded a ski-mountaineering circumnavigation
of Forbidden Peak would be both feasible and spectacular.
People had skied different portions of the planned
route, but no one had linked it all together. I
was fortunate to have a few clients with a strong
sense of adventure and together we embarked on
the journey.
What
we found exceeded our expectations. The tour threads
through crevassed glaciers, over difficult-to-reverse
cols, and down some of the most scenic slopes in
the country. The terrain gets increasingly committing
as you progress. The area's foreboding yet beautiful
nature coupled with the mountain we circumnavigated
was befitting of the name: The Forbidden Tour.
Martin
Volken
A
UIAGM certified Swiss mountain guide, owner of Pro
Ski Service in Seattle and dedicated BD gear tester,
Martin guides all facets of mountaineering including
the Forbidden Tour — one of the best multi-day
ski traverses in the North Cascades. Check it out
at www.proguiding.com.
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