Without a doubt this is the most bizarre ski season of my life. It started in October where we got over 100"+, then totally dry in November, then another 100"+ month in December and then, well, basically nothing. Luckily, the deep and dense Sierra snowpack has stuck around, and it has still been a fun season, but the coverage and snow conditions have just been bizarre.

There is a silver lining though, and there have been a lot of positives from this season too. The odd snowpack has kept me home, made me enjoy resorts again, and has led me to pursue less likely backcountry missions. Since my last post, which was February 16th, I have only really had a half dozen days out touring, and the rest were spent at the resort refining my telemark skills. The latter is probably the biggest silver lining, and I can now say that I feel nearly as comfortable on tele's as I do apline skis. Albeit, I would still choose my alpines if I was planning to be in a no-fall-zone.

The first of the six days worthy of talking about was actually a telemark day on Donner Pass. This day was all about ski history which many of you know that I love. In fact, this day was full of history even outside of skiing. Most notably, this area is steeped in the history of the Donner Party which inevitably had to resort to cannibalism to stay alive during their attempt to cross the Sierra. It is crazy to think that they were so close, close enough to see the central valley on a clear day, and it was nearly all downhill from where they stopped. Bummer. Anyway, aside from cannibalism, this area has the famous train tunnels, which were built so that the trains could run along the mountainside without getting swept away by avalanches. These days, the trains run to the south of the peak, and the old tunnels seem to just be used for graffiti. The newly functioning tunnel is a piece of history itself. Unbeknownst to many people in the area, the new tunnel actually passes through Mt. Judah and under the Sugar Bowl Ski Resort before entering the open landscape again. Pretty wild really. Lastly, even though Snowshoe Thompson, the person credited with bringing skiing to the Sierra, mainly stayed to the south during his travels, he did use a lurk, which is a single pole (similar to using a kayak paddle) used for balancing while skiing. Being the ski nerd that I am, I figured I had to have a lurk. I mean, after all, I am about 15% Norwegian, and my ancestors are from the Telemark, Norway region. It is very likely that telemark skiing with a lurk is in my hereditary blood, so it is no wonder I felt so compelled to try to master this sport as well.

In this photo: Rez and I at the top of Mount Judah with Donner Lake in the background.

Without a doubt, when you show up with a lurk, you will get questions. My lurk is about 8 feet tall and it looks like a medieval weapon. Of course, as I got to the parking spot, there was literally a local news crew and about twenty people who they were running a story on. As I walked up the slope, I felt like a sheep on the side of a mountain in a National Park where onlookers gawk in wonder. Typically this would be flattering, however, the snow was firm as hell and it made me wish this lurk had a built in ice axe! I'm sure I looked quite goofy on the approach, but as I got moving, it all started to feel more natural, and perhaps thousands of years of evolutionary genes kicked in.

In this photo: Rez looking for a snack on the south side of Donner Peak.

After a little bit of work, we reached the top of Mt. Judah, and took our first descent down some perfect corn. The lurk felt great. It is a really fun way to ski and you can really put some weight into it as you make turns. It is essentially a rutter and as it engages, you can feel your weight being slung into a turn. Its a real dance that feels exceptional. Anyway, Rez was with me as well, and we continued our way towards Donner Peaks south side, then climbed nearly to the top. We had some time and corn was really coming together so I decided, heck, lets ski this line all the way down to the rail tracks on the south side. I had never skied this line before, instead always opting for the "Lake Run" which pops you out at Donner Lake to the north side of the ridge. While not steep by any means, this was a great mellow corn run, and would be great in powder too, but more than anything, it was perfect for some mellow telemark turns. Plus, there wasn't a single person on this side of the mountain.

After reaching the bottom, we retraced our steps from the railroad tracks back to the summit, and finally dropped the more standard north facing terrain in the bowl between Mt. Judah and Donner Peak. The turns were great, and it was quite comical to answer questions and watch people look at me like I was bigfoot as we came down the busier side of the mountain. After all said and done, it was about 3,000vft of pristine tele lurk skiing!

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About a week after the above-mentioned trip, I needed some real peace and quiet, so I decided to drive up to my girlfriends folks place at Eagle Lake, CA. This lake once was some of the best fishing in California, but either the drought, or the cloud seeding on the western slope, or both, has left this lake very low. So low that you cannot really launch a boat anywhere, and the area is quickly becoming a ghost town. Luckily, I see it as a blank canvas, and a place to go that nobody else wants to visit. Perfect. Those are the elements for solitude these days. While the coverage was thin down low, the depth quickly increased with elevation, and this turned out to be one of the highlights of the season.

We parked at the SE end of the lake and climbed the dirt access road which had a couple inches of snow before I changed directions and headed south and up the ridge towards the summit of Gallatin Peak. The conditions were actually quite difficult for skinning. It was dust on crust and very hard to hold and edge without your bottom ski slipping out. Regardless, the conditions turned out to be pretty good for skiing. Also worth noting is that the pitch was consistently about 30 degrees as I climbed, which had me stoked for a nice long descent down to the lake. After a little bit of work, Rez and I gained the summit where great views of Lassen Peak (southern-most Cascade volcano), Mount Shasta, and the Warner Mountains were all in sight. It was crisp and clear, with views literally stretching over a hundred miles in all directions. Best of all, I was definitely the only one on this mountain that day, and likely one of the few people to ski in the last few decades.

In this photo: Lassen Peak and the south shore of Eagle Lake.

In this photo: Looking down at my skin-track and the waters of Eagle Lake.

In this photo: Eagle Lake from the top of Gallatin Peak.

While at the top, I checked my maps and realized we could do an extra descent before returning to the lake. The NE side of the mountain had some open trees and the gullies descended deep off the east side. Rez still had the energy, so we decided it was a go. The snow was great and I felt wild and free as I telemarked down the slope with Rez running closely behind. Seeing his tracks run along side mine is something I truly adore. Cheesy and all, but skiing with my dog is one of the most joyous things I can imagine.

In this photo: Some of our turns down the east side of Gallatin.

In this photo: Looking down on our east side tracks. Fun turns with about 4-6” of dust on crust.

As we descended the trees got thicker and we called it quits before heading back up to the summit for one more view and one more descent of Gallatin Peak. This time, we would ski the beautiful open terrain off the NW side. From this line the views are just insane, and you are pretty much staring at the lake the entire time. I remember thinking how lucky I am to experience this sort of thing. I am truly blessed. We finished the descent which ended right at the shoreline and walked along the shore back to the car. *Nothing like shouldering your skis along a lake as fisherman cast a line. I do truly believe that most of us want the same thing, it's just a difference in the way that we get there. * Altogether this day ended up being about 2,500vft of awesome skiing.

In this photo: Rez taking a little break on top of Gallatin Peak.

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Like last season, it has been very thin on the eastside, but its beauty still beckons, and at the beginning of March I asked the legendary Slack group, AllMyDogsEat, who was willing to join me for a trip up Tioga Pass to the Cocaine Chute. Lauren, a professional mountain biker, ER doctor, and someone I was yet to meet decided that she was up for the challenge, so we agreed to meet at the Mono Market around 7pm and then drive to the trailhead together. I was a little unsure of coverage down there, but everything aligned, and as we approached the nights campsite, the road was plowed, and snow reached the lot. This is about ideal as it gets. We hung out over a beer for a bit but I'm a pretty big whimp when it comes to just sitting around camp in the cold, so I quickly hopped in my car and got in my sleeping bag.

In this photo: The wall that is the boundary of the Dana Plateau as seen from our parking spot.

We agreed to wake up at 6:00am, and when the alarm rang, I knew it was going to be a great day. We could literally tour right out of the parking lot, and the coverage up high looked good. We didn't waste all that much time getting ready, and we were on snow by 7:00am. What turned out to be the crux of the day was the steep bench that you must climb before getting to the massive moraine beneath the Dana Plateau/Cocaine Chute. The snow was still firm, and the slope was quite steep, so the skinning was honestly quite tedious, and brutal since it was really the first thing we did as we began to wake up. We got to the top and were both happy to have gotten that little crux out of the way. Plus, at this point, we were now rewarded with spectacular views of the Dana Plateau's NE wall. Here, there are a number of aesthetic couloirs that hold deep snow due to the extreme transport that occurs off the top of the plateau. Basically, all the snow from the top of the Dana Plateau blows E/NE into those couloirs, making it one of the more reliable areas during a low snow year.

In this photo: Lauren Cantwell works her way up the Cocaine Chute.

We snacked for a minute beneath the Cocaine Chute, which is actually the mellowest way to the top, and then began pushing forward to the apron, and eventually started climbing up into the couloir. Laurens pace was fast and it was impressive to see her skin up this thing so quickly. I had to put my ego aside and just rely on what I know, a nice steady pace. As we got higher up, we transitioned to skis on our packs, and from here I led the way with Lauren just slightly below me. It was nice to have radios this day and to be able to relay the ever-changing snow conditions in the couloir. We had everything from, ice, wind buff, corn, chalk, sastrugi, you name it. Finally, as we neared the summit, we danced around a bare spot in the couloir, then topped out onto the Dana Plateau.

In this photo: A stoked me on top of the Cocaine Chute.

The view from here is amazing. The rock is of many different colors, and you have a sprawling view of Mono Lake, plus a view of Mt. Dana just behind you. We sat up here for a minute as the wind whipped us around, and then crawled our way back into the couloir where we put on skis and skied from the highest possible point. Luckily for us, the sun had gained a lot of strength since our ascent, and for the most part, were able to ski corn while in the sun, outside of the sun, we were still managing many variable snow conditions. In fact, in some places, the snow even seemed hollow underneath. I wasn't necessarily worried about this in the sense of it having instabilities, but it was damn weird. Perhaps it was due to the snowpack rotting in the cold sun for a few months.

In this photo: Skiing the Cocaine Chute with Mono Lake in the background.

We skied the whole chute and exchanged linking turns on the way down. One thing I love to do is to turn around and look at my tracks on the mountainside. I feel so accomplished to see them up there sitting alone against a massive backdrop. I can't help but to immediately reminisce over the work it took to get there, and to ski down safely. On this day, the tracks were clearly visible from below, and sure, this elevated my ego and stoke to a level that made me feel successful. Nothing wrong with that, and we skied our way right back to the cars. I would definitely chalk this up as a good day!

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After this trip, I did return down to the eastside but have now coined that trip as an "epic fail." Our objective was Esha Peak, but we started too late, the coverage was spotty on the approach, and the visible snow transport from high winds had us redirect to the Baldwin Cirque, only to encounter more inconsistent snowpack and, truly, the gloppiest snow I have ever seen. Out of all the trips I have been on, this is probably the one that unraveled the worst. All in all, still a good day, it didn't unravel because of injury, but just bad planning. We literally had three failed objectives in one day, but I must say I was super proud of our group, Bryan, Brice, and I, because nobody lost their cool or let the vibe spoil. That is truly a sign of a good mountaineer.

In this photo: Esha Peak, one of our aborted objectives of the day.

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Following up the epic fail, I decided I would keep it local and seek out the goods closer to home. A few weeks back I had done what I labeled as the Rose Ridge 4 x 4 Frolic which was a loop that hit Relay Peak, both Rose Knob and Rose Knob Peak, and then Incline Peak before returning to the car. I figured I could refine this a bit more so I did what I now call the Incline Triple which is, ascend Incline Peak, ski the backside, climb Rose Knob Peak, the ski the big open face back down, climb back up Incline, and the ski Inclines south face. Opposite to the "epic fail," this was an "epic win." The corn was perfect, Rez, was stoked, and the sun was shining. Plus, I was surprised with how good the coverage was for not having a storm in two months. I'll cherish this day for a while and with that, any day skiing in this area is an amazing reminder of the fortunate lives many of us live in the mountains. Looking at Lake Tahoe while skiing with my dog is such a reminder.

In this photo: Lake Tahoe, I’ll take it!

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Last but not by any means least, my second of two Peavine ski days for the year will stand out for a while. Peavine is a desert mountain that flanks the NW side of Reno and gets almost no precipitation due to the shadowing effect of the Sierra Nevada mountains to the west. It is also mainly a place for mountain bikers (on the southside), gun enthusiasts (east side), and side by side/atv/dirtbikers to north and west sides. It is always an interesting time on Peavine, and while the view from the top is great, it takes working your way through loads of abandoned vehicles and household waste before you get to the top.

In this photo: My parking spot above the bowl on Peavine.

I ended up driving Lacey's Jeep all the way to the top where I would park to ski the NE bowl which gets wind loaded with whatever snow comes across the mountain. While literally the whole mountain was bare aside from a few deep deposits, this gully stays filled deep into the spring. Luckly for me and Rez, the snow was perfect corn under a scorching Reno sun. We took three runs in total, one of them a buttnaked lap (say what ya want, it's the most fun thing you could ever do), and then returned to the Jeep for a drive down the mountain. Novelty ski indeed, and one of the most memorable lines of the season. It has been fun to get creative with my objectives, and I plan to pursue less sought after places

Lurk skiing, Gallatin Peak, Cocaine Chute, Epic Fail, Mt. Rose Frolic, and Peavine

From the Sierra to New England- 2022/2023

Sonora Pass, Mt. Rose, Shasta, Morrison Col, Eureka Peak, Jakes, Castle, Peavine and more.