Ruby Dome
By far the most challenging trip of the 2020/2021 season was Ruby Dome. The original plan for the weekend was to stay local but after Conor mentioned this trip, that all changed. Ruby Dome is the highest peak in the Ruby Mountains and we also planned to do a pretty big tour the day before. It sounded like the type 2 fun that I was looking for. We planned to access it from Lamoille Canyon Road. This is the same road that Terminal Cancer is off of but to pop up and over to access Ruby Dome, you begin a little lower down the canyon. Also to be included as part of the Ruby Dome tour was the Seitz Couloir. Here is a breakdown.. by the numbers, day 1: 11.75 miles and 6,760vft, the skiing was also pretty great and we got fresh tracks on the final descent down a chalky couloir. Day 2: 16.45 miles and just under or over 10,000vft depending on which watch was more accurate.
In this photo: Sophie Rothman, Laura Wade, and Conor Phelan begin the days approach out of Lamoille Canyon.
The first day out we had beautiful temperatures and a mix of corn and chalk. The group was the four of us, Sophia, Laura, Conor, and myself. We began our tour by going up Lions Camp Trail which follows the Right Fork of Lamoille Creek and made our first main objective this open bowl off the south side of Mount Gilbert. It was only about thirty minutes later that Conor also saved the day for me after I dropped my ski while being careless in the transition and literally watched it jet down the slope behind me. I laughed it off because I knew this definitely wasn’t a life or death thing, but nonetheless, it stung to do something so careless and to think about how awful this mistake could be in a different setting. With a bruised ego and some disbelief, I made a couple turns on one ski before Conor decided it would be faster and safer form him to transition, ski down, take a glimpse, hopefully find it, then tour back up. Luckily for all of us, my ski had stopped in a bush just a little ways down, and low and behold, CRISIS AVERTED. Wow, ..that was lucky, ..and stupid, ..and really awesome of Conor to audible that one. This was a good moment to learn from for sure! Moving on.
In this photo: Enjoying some corn after Conor rescued my ski. Not sure I would have had the same smile on one ski.. Photo by Conor Phelan.
In this photo: Sophie Rothman and Laura Wade work their way up the second climb of the day.
We toured nearly to the top the bowl but experienced some weird snow that felt sort of like walking on spring board. It just didn’t feel right so we agree to transitioned and enjoy the nice turns ahead of us. We skied awesome corn on a southerly slope all the way back down to the creek. From here we took a minute to decide whether or not there was reasonable way to access this NE facing couloir up and over the ridge that now was right infront of us. I wasn’t so certain there was, but we all came to an agreement that would go until it wasn’t safe, or possible. Luckily, as we inched our way up, it was more obvious that we could do a little strategic billy goating and it wouldn’t be all that bad nor exposed. Once we got past the crux, which was just a section of thin-to-no snowpack and rockwall, we were able to get on snow and work our way up a really awesome mountain. The geology was great, the views were fantastic, and the stoke was really high. Fortunately, it kept getting better and once we got to the top, the snow on the northerly side was a chalky powder, and the couloir that Conor had mapped out was easy to access. Depending on where you skied in the couloir it was somewhere between chalky and bullet-proof, but months later, I mainly remember the chalk. We had an awesome egress from here and managed to ski quite far before we had to walk in our boots. This alone would have been a worthy trip to drive all the way to Elko for, but we still had the main day, Ruby Dome, scheduled for tomorrow.
In this photo: Enjoying a fun scramble to more consistent snow on the days final climb.
When we got back to the car and changed up. I realized my socks were soaked. I think it was combination of sweat and snow, and to make matters worse, I checked and my insoles were also soggy. Bummer, so I put them out to dry overnight.
The next day the alarm went off at 4:00am so I pounded some coffee with Conor and we got ready for the day. We hit trail walking in ski boots and had to do the ole’ “Lamoille Canyon Bushwack” as we navigated our way up steep slopes overgrown with shrubs and aspens. Finally, about a thousand or more vertical feet up the mountain, we cleared the overgrown vegetation and we were able to transition to skis. The sun was just starting to rise at this point. So while the sky was absolutely beautiful, and the views huge, the snow was as firm as concrete, which made skinning difficult. We got to the top of that ridge which would drop us down into the next drainage and from there, we transitioned to downhill mode, and skied some thin, bulletproof snow, down a couple thousand vertical feet to the drainage.
In this photo: Neary the top of the first of many climbs for day two’s mission of Ruby Dome. Photo by Conor Phelan.
Next up, transition number four? It was only a short period of time after this one that I started to notice some pain in my feet that was really starting to burn and weaken my performance. On a normal soft snow day, or even corn, I don’t think it would have been so bad, but being so bulletproof, I had to keep a ton of pressure on the outside of my feet in order to get some edge into the snow on the climb. This undulating motion, repeating itself every step, was brewing up some blisters that were making me very worried. I pulled off my ski boots and socks to get a better look. My feet were super red in all the pressure points, including various spots on my ankles and shins. I was torn. What to do? This was a big one for Conor, and his last in objective in the Ruby’s for his www.skithebasin.com project. It was also a dream day, one full of amazing lines, views, and it all took a lot of planning and training to get to be part of this dream trip. I decided I didn’t want to let Conor down, and didn’t want to let myself down either, so I put some Wuru Wool on my hot spots, and decided to move on. At the end of the day, they are blisters, not a heart problem, not a muscle strain, and ultimately, nothing serious or life threatening, and my performance seemed to get better with the wool applied.
We moved on and I am glad that we did and that I chose not to turn back. The blisters hurt tremendously all day, the worst being the final of four big climbs for the day, but all that was in-between, was amazing, and worth it. It took a couple of hours to make our way up to the east ridge of Ruby Dome, and from there, our big approach for the day was pretty much all in view. We planned to work our way up the ridge which got continuously less broad and more exposed to the north as you ascend. The south side of the ridge would also be quite spicy because of its steep open slopes with numerous areas of cliff bands and no fall zones. We kept at the ridge and used our ice axes for precaution before finally needing to really use them on the final crux; which really just took a series of basic steps, up a near vertical slope, for just a short period of time. However, if you looked right, it was sheer exposure off the north side of Ruby Dome. Solution? Don’t look that way, just focus on the actual problem, which was really just a couple of moves that anyone could execute on a near vertical snowbank in a Wal-mart parking lot. But, pulling them off while nearly hanging over a couple thousand foot rock band requires a little bit more strategic breathing, at least for me. I don’t think Conors account is the same! Anyway, it all comes down to staying relaxed and being conscious of each move. Solid axe placement, no missteps/make sure of your footing. It was the first time in a long while that I thought maybe some “Elvis leg” could kick in, which is when you get nervous and your legs quiver like the King. It’s horrifying and dangerous, and definitely not a point that you want to get to if you aren’t safely roped. Luckily, all the previous practice and exposure helped prepare me, the fear passed, and I stepped my way up and over onto the final walk to the summit. I remember yelling to Conor, “it’s a real fu*kin love/hate with you man!” Of course, huge smile on my face and a huge feeling of accomplishment. It really was awesome to walk that summit ridge and get to the top of a mountain that is mainly accessed by helicopter in the winter months.
In this photo: Looks like an easy approach from here, but the approach up the lookers left ridge is awfully spicey as you top out. Indeed, this is a no fall zone, Conor, thanks for leading. To see what I mean, watch Conor’s Ruby Dome video here.
In this photo: I finally gained the ridge toward the summit of Ruby Dome after a few fully committed moves. Photo by Conor Phelan.
We enjoyed ourselves up there for a bit. From the top, the massive view of Nevada was just amazing. I love the feeling of skiing in remote places like the Basin. It feels like you are maybe, just maybe, doing something and going somewhere that few people have before. It feels sort of exclusive but also free and pure, and that’s the reward for training hard and staying committed. It’s also a lot of good luck, so I’m grateful for those that I have met and pushed me past my previous “limits.” This was certainly one those days of smashing previous “big days,” and it was just magnificent to be atop Ruby Dome with Conor. While many people have skied this peak before, most have done it from a helicopter. It feels nice to know that we got there on our own two feet.
In this photo: A wider verson of the previous photo, taken by Conor Phelan from the summit of Ruby Dome.
After some time on the summit, we skied a long (3,000vft) and beautiful south-facing corn run down to one drainage, popped over another little ridge, and then had a very rock-hoppin' ski down to the North Fork. We took a little break and had some food and water at the North Fork. At this point, my feet were still doing pretty well and the wool was holding up. The stoke was very high after skiing from the Ruby Dome summit, so it was hard for me to really judge pain at the time. Instead, I was awe struck by the beauty of the canyon and was fully soaking up the late spring sun. With a fresh round of calories and some h2o, we continued on up the North Fork towards the Seitz Couloir. This was the second objective of the day and looking back on it now, by adding this to Ruby Dome and making the tour a loop, this is legit an "all-time" tour full of both stoke and suffering. Alone, either of these objectives are great. Just skiing one of them in your lifetime is gauranteed enough awesomeness to never forget the moment. But, to ski both in one big loop? Well, this is why Conor is the GOAT, especially when it comes to mapping and trip planning.
In this photo: Approaching the Seitz Couloir from the backside, just below Echo Lake, with another stunner Ruby Mountain couloir in the background. Photo by Conor Phelan.
The Seitz Couloir is a very proper couloir when it comes to aesthetics. While wider than Terminal Cancer, its still narrow enough to feel "walled in" and the walls are nearly vertical at points. It also faces North which helps it hold snow. After touring up the North Fork and taking in some splendid Ruby Mountain scenery, we finally got to the top of the Seitz Couloir and were able to get a birds-eye-view of the goods. I know personally, with how tired my legs were and how on fire my feet were again, I was sooooo stoked to see the couloir and verify that it would be a nice, non-technichal descent. I knew this from the beta, but my own personal verification left me feeling quite relieved. We had cooled off a bit from all the sweating so we didn't waste much time. If I remember right, Conor asked if he could drop first to sample the chalky pow which was holding on tight in the shade. I then skied down and joined him before we popped out of the couloir and made our way through the large glaciated valley towards our final climb and egress.
In this photo: The Seitz Couloir.
At this point, I was totally, I mean totally smacked. Sure, the feeling of accomplishment was amazing. However, we weren't done yet and the slope that we needed to gain in order to make our final descent to the car was about 2,500vft and 30-40 degrees steep. On top of that, the temperatures were high, and this south westerly slope was cooking in the sun. Meaning, it was loosing stability, and that was very noticeable as I sank deep into the snow with each step.
It was like I just could not find a comfortable way for my feet to rest. All of the stoke and excitement had numbed the pain. Now, knowing that the main objectives had been executed, I let my mind wonder. I started thinking about how arduous various parts of the egress would be. How on the other side, the snow would be bulletproof, and that too would be hard because I would have to put more pressure onto my feet to ski well. Woof, this is what you call a spiral! I rarely end up here, but I had also never had such bad blisters in my life. It was a real, "what have I done" moment. While I was laughing it off knowing that it wasn't life or death, I was also cursing it, and calling the mountains all sorts of names as I switched back and forth from skinning to boot-packing. Switching back and forth only to try to determine what was more comforatble. I had extreme pain trying to skin because the side-hilling would put extra pressure on the sides of my feet. Then booting didn't work either because the snow was very unsupportable. I thought damn, this is going to take a while. And it did.
Low and behold, one step after another, I could finally see Conor on top of the ridge. I remember yelling, "are you on top!?" Once again the relief was overwhelming and my mind chilled. Finally, I mean finally, we were nearing our final descent to the car. Legs thrashed, feet totally cooked, and my brain on the fritz, it was a delight to look down on Lamoille Canyon once more. Without a doubt, those final turns down to the car must have been some of my ugliest ever, but I am damn proud of them.
In this photo: Mangled feet, even after a few days of healing. Dry your liners kids!
When I write these, more than anything, I feel grateful. It's also fun to look back on these trips and it gives me the opportunity to think deeper about the decisions we made, and to learn from the experience. On this trip, in addition to learning that I need to take much better care of my boot liners and keep them dry, I also learned that I continuously feel like the luckiest guy in the world. It feels like nirvana to me, and thats why I keep going back. A million thanks to all the amazing people have helped me shape these experiences, and lets make some more!