Grandview Peak Attempt, Bush-Whack Hell, May 12, 2022

Grandview Peak from the half-pipe in lower Cottonwood Gulch. Not nearly enough snow, when it’s adequate this is wall-to-wall snow. Just around the corner the snow is gone and it’s "game-on,” war with brush that is.   

Rule #1: don’t even think about skiing Grandview if there is no snow at Rotary Park.

Today I attempted to ski Grandview Peak via Cottonwood Gulch from City Creek Canyon. I’ve used this route a number of times and it’s always been a great ski day: biking up the paved City Creek road; ditching the bike at the end of the pavement just above Rotary Park (bikes are not permitted above Rotary Park); hiking and/or skinning 1.25 miles up City Creek to the entrance of Cottonwood Gulch; skinning up the natural half-pipe of lower Cottonwood Gulch to the upper basin; skinning up the headwall in upper Cottonwood Gulch to the col on the NW side of Grandview; ridge-hop a short 1/8 mile SE to the summit of Grandview Peak. An easy, relaxed approach with a fun, easy ski descent back into City Creek Canyon down Cottonwood Gulch, that is IF there is snow cover starting at the end of the pavement at Rotary Park. 

Unfortunately, today my timing was about a month off. There was no snow at Rotary Park so I hiked on the bare-dirt trail from Rotary Park up into Cottonwood Gulch. I didn’t touch snow until well into the gulch. The hike without snow was fast and easy compared to most years when the approach is usually a frustrating practice of thousands of transitions from skinning to hiking to skinning from the start because the snow is often sporadic. And believe me, sporadic snow on this approach, while slow and frustrating, it is much better than no snow. If the cover is more than 50% snow at Rotary Park then you know the brush in lower Cottonwood Gulch will be covered, and the living will be easy once you reach Cottonwood Gulch because the snow will then be continuous. Salad days.

Today the snow was discontinuous three-fourths of the way up Cottonwood Gulch.  It was a living hell of bush-whacking. The worst bush-whacking in memory, even worse than the early days in North Canyon or Mueller Park while skiing Bountiful Ridge in the 1970’s and 1980’s.  

City Creek Canyon is closed to auto traffic until after Memorial Day, but the snow is long gone by then. It’s a six mile pedal up the paved road from the gate up to the end of the pavement at Rotary Park. I parked at the state capital rode a half mile on the Memory Grove/Gravity Hill road to the City Creek gate, then up the canyon to Rotary Park. There I chained the bike to a tree and hiked in running shoes up the canyon trail to Cottonwood Gulch, skis on pack, and, still finding no snow, continued hiking in running shoes up lower Cottonwood Gulch. There is a natural half-pipe up lower Cottonwood Gulch, but there was no snow in the half-pipe, only satanic brush, so I dove-in and clawed up the spiky, scratchy hell for a half mile until I finally reached continuous (I thought) snow. I gladly switched to ski boots and started skinning up the half-pipe. I skinned about 200 feet and my heart deflated when I rounded the first bend, all I could see was bare ground with overhead brush. Skis off - again - and back to hiking through brush. I ended up hiking all the rest of my approach which ended at the huge Douglas Fir, the last one in Cottonwood Gulch, which stands as a beacon for the upper basin of Cottonwood Gulch. On the way up I follow the half-pipe to this Doug-Fir. When skiing down from Grandview I aim for that Doug-Fir, it marks the start of the half-pipe for a quick ski-exit down the half-pipe out of Cottonwood Gulch. Today it was just pure brush up to the Beacon Fir and once there all I could see was a wide, sargasso sea of more deep, thick brush. Total hell, so much so that I lost all heart and pulled the plug on my attempt to ski Grandview. I turned around and bush-whacked back to my running shoes, took of my ski boots, put on the runners then bush-whacked down Cottonwood Gulch to the City Creek Canyon trail, then hiked the trail back to the bike at Rotary Park. From there it’s an easy, gravity-fed pedal down-canyon to my truck at the state capital building. 

All told, I wore skis all of 300 feet (a generous estimate) while skinning up the half-pipe, no turns al all because I hiked down from my high point. There was just not enough continuous snow to make it worth skiing. A shitty day from a ski-point-of view, but a great day considering I wasn’t at work. 

You don’t know until you go, and now I know, don’t go unless there is snow at Rotary Park.  

Analogous of my ski day, but I’ll take a shitty day in the woods anytime over a good day at work. At first I thought it was Bear shit, but upon closer inspection it appears to be Elk.  

Aaaahhhh, so refreshing, green emerging out of the snow, so much better than brush and shit.

Discontinuous snow in the half-pipe. When filled in with snow, the brush on the left is covered and this is fun, banked skiing. Grandview is peaking around the big Douglas Fir (upper middle, partially blocked by an aspen), it’s a beacon of sorts, it marks the delineation between upper and lower Cottonwood Gulch. When descending, aim for that Doug Fir, it marks the start of the half-pipe which makes for an easy descent-route down Cottonwood Gulch to City Creek Canyon . . .  IF there is snow.  

From the brush-hell in lower Cottonwood Gulch, this is the view SW towards the ridge between Bountiful Ridge and Cottonwood Gulch. Bountiful is on the other side.  

Did I mention it was the worst bush-whacking in memory??

Grandview above a disheartened skier with not nearly enough snow in Cottonwood Gulch. Sometimes I amaze myself for the stupid things things I try. I’m coming back here in October with some nippers and a chain saw to do some light trail (half-pipe) maintenance. I need to make this right for next year. 

View SW down Cottonwood Gulch. The timbered canyon-wall, straight ahead, is the south side of upper City Creek Canyon.

My transition spot from runners to ski boots then back to runners.

Shit!! I may not show it but sooooooo happy . . . I’m not at work. (Serious!)

This photo shows the only continuous  stretch of snow found all day. Notice no turns. By this point, sick of the skis-on/skis-off routine, I just walked. In better conditions the half-pipe has wall-to-wall, continuous snow. A month too late today.

Relics from the Treasure Box mine in lower Cottonwood Gulch.

A relief to get out of the brush and back onto the bike for a relaxing cruise down the paved road. 

Tree in the sure spot (sic). All I can say, two trees are better than one for chain anchors when you leave a small fortune of gear at the end of a very popular canyon. That rack and those saddle bags alone cost over $500, outdoor gear is so expensive, but they make it so much easier to haul ski gear on a bike, much easier than using only your day pack. I’m not telling how much I paid (overpaid?) for the e-bike. We bought it originally for my wife after she quit riding several years ago due to the "hell-grind" of riding in the mountains, but it’s been a revelation for back-country skiing. It provides easy access up gated canyons in the spring, making the access an after-thought rather than the most significant energy out-put of the day. If nothing else, when time is short the e-bike provides for a quick hit rather than an all-day expedition. You fly up the canyons and your focus is on the skiing, not the grind of getting to the skiing. Most importantly, Kara is riding with me again.  

Several young friends give me shit for riding an e-bike to ski, saying it’s cheating, that real men DO NOT ride an e-bike, pedal the approach on a real bike otherwise your ski-day does NOT count. But those same young friends think nothing of driving their Dad’s Volvo from Bountiful to Alta to 'back-country ski' Grizzly Gulch (it’s groomed by Alta Ski Lifts). Transportation is transportation. What’s the difference? 

Rice Bowl, April 24, 2022

Fun skiing, upper Rice Bowl. Four to five inches of new snow overnight, thick, heavy and not too creamy so the turning was not effortless but still sublime. Ok, that sounds really stupid, who uses the word sublime with a straight face? Just know, skiing heavy powder is WAY better than going to church. With the dense powder I was thankful for an early rise tip because it would’ve been hell if the skis didn’t float, but it was supportable and not too grabby and the turns were fun.

Bike chained to a tree near the Sheriff’sCabin.

The Farmington Canyon gate is still locked but the road is open to bikers, runners, hikers, and ATVs small enough to ride around the gate. I parked at the Fire Break road lot, strapped skis to bike, pedaled around the gate and up the canyon road. From the start clouds dropped and the road was in a fog, and I was pedaling in a blizzard of graupel and cold wind.  The pedaling was cold and wet and muddy, just plain miserable conditions, which brought on a mental debate: “this sucks! Go home and take a nap by the fire.” vs.“Keep going choir-boy, naps are for old men - the weather will clear!” It’s spring in Utah and the weather changes dramatically from minute to minute, so I pushed away the thoughts of quitting and taking a nap and kept pedaling. It stopped snowing about two miles up, although the sky was still gray, low and heavy, and a cold wind kept blowing, but every few minutes a bit of blue peeked through the gaps in the clouds. Was the weather breaking?  When one is distracted by snow and mud it’s surprising how quickly a ride up the canyon flies by. I pedaled until the road was blocked by snow, which just so happened to be just above the Sheriff’s cabin, so that is where I switched to skis. 

Ride up the Canyon: 

            5.99 miles, 

            2,450 total vertical gain (high point 6,878 ft, low point 4,780 ft), 

            ride time 35 minutes.

I chained the bike to a tree, tossed the skis over Farmington Creek, hopped over Farmington Creek and started skinning up Rice Creek. Near the upper beaver ponds I left the main drainage of Rice Creek and headed eastward, up the steep, timbered slope to the Mud/Rice Divide, then skinned straight up the divide to the top of Mud Peak (8,745 ft). From there I looked for the best ski options and today that looked to be the heart of upper Rice Bowl, so I skinned along the ridge westward a few hundred feet to the top of Rice Peak (8,730 ft), where I transitioned to ski. I made the right choice to keep heading up,  the skies cleared and I had blue sky. It would’ve been a wasted day if I turned around and headed home for a nap.

Spring in Utah, either cold and snowy or blue sky and sunny. I got both today.

Upper Rice Bowl without a ski track in site.

Mud Peak and the stunted firs just blow the summit, as viewed from the upper Mud/Rice Divide.

View SW towards the Oquirhs from the summit of Rice Peak. That dark squall, sitting over Centerville, looked like it was blowing my way so I transitioned as fast as possible to ski and never launched the drone. As it turned out the squall didn’t blow in until I was pedaling down the canyon. I should’ve taken some drone footage.

View west towards Antelope Island. That squall just hanging out over the valley while I skied.

View north towards Francis Peak. The radar domes are the dark spot in the middle of photo.

View NW from Rice Peak looking down the west head-wall of Rice Bowl. Farmington Canyon the dark diagonal and Francis Peak (upper right).

Transitioning quickly, thinking I was going to get slammed with snow and wind and I wanted to ski while the light was still good. I’m the slowest transitioner I know, always screwing around with cameras, so friends are always waiting and irritated with me, another reason I often ski alone. Even when I'm fast I’m still slow. 

View east from Rice Peak, Mud Peak the near high-point.

Pack-off, pack-on, time to ski. Rice bowl below just waiting to get tracked.

Ski tracks in upper Rice Bowl.

Ski tracks in upper Rice Bowl (middle of photo), from the Farmington Canyon Road at the Sheriff's Cabin.

Wet-slide (ish) in terrain trap. It wasn’t big enough to bury a person, but maybe big enough de-cleat someone not ready for the impact.

Tossing the skis over the river, Sheriff's Cabin on right, bike chained to the trees on the left.

Mark, Larga Vida en Mi Corazon! March 21, 2022

This has been a frustrating year. I’ve skied less this year than any in the last 25 years. I blame it on the re- emergence of a harsh, arrogant, self-serving human instinct that is now all the rage across America. A bad element of humanity that was pushed down as unacceptable just a few years ago is now acceptable and encouraged by certain powers of society. In Utah it has created a strange inconsistency in spirituality and politics, yet the majority of Utahns continued to combine their spirituality with bull-shit politics, which has me mystified and wondering how that juxtaposition is reconciled in their minds? At some point one wonders just where they (me) belong?  

What does this have to do with skiing? My employer of 30+ years fully embraced this ‘me first’ mentality and, in an attempt to increase share value, consolidated offices to increase bottom-line performance by 1/1000 of 1%. I lost my 30-yr career due to my position being transferred to Houston. Texans tell me that  Houston is the 'Paris of the West’ (hemisphere not America), unicorns and rainbows around every corner, the women all are beautiful and the men stand straight and tall, yet, and I say this with absolutely NO disrespect, face it, Houston is for fat cowboys and career shit-heads who think the purpose of life is to only make a dime. I just could not see myself ever living in Houston. In early 2020 I said “NO thanks" and took another job in SLC. That new job came with a significant cut in pay and with a significant cut in vacation, and, believe me, going backward from eight weeks of PTO to just two weeks is tougher than the loss of $$s. In addition, at the same time my wife developed some serious health issues which made work very difficult, so, in early 2020, we were slammed with a perfect shit-show, bind-sided with health uncertainties and a double-hit to our income. To make up for the loss of income, in addition to my day job, I took on some freelance work requiring time during evenings and weekends, and thus, my ski-time has been severely diminished. 

Incidentally, now, after 2.5 years of testing the ‘me first’ theory, the share value of my ex-employer did not change. Other than the typical mirroring of the normal ebb and flow oil & gas prices, shares have remained stagnant. 

I’m not skiing nearly enough but I still try to get out in short bursts when a few hours open. It got cold this weekend and it snowed up high, very wintery for this snow starved winter, so today (Monday, March 21, 2022) after working half the day I headed up Bountiful Ridge to ski some of that new, cold snow.

Yesterday’s new snow was powdery on the skin up, and it looks powdery here, but, when skiing down, it felt sloppy, grabby and trippy. The hard base was becoming unsupportable in the afternoon sun. Look at the last photos (end of post) for evidence of my ugly turns.

KPF, the deepest, least brushy I’ve seen it this year.

Snow stake rock, still mostly buried.

109cm (43in) at Rudy’s Flat. 

Skinner up the old route from Rudy’s up to the ridge, the open slope seen here it the ski run I call Tele Hill (aka Face-plant Hill). It’s on the west side of the ridge above Rudy’s Flat, at the SW end (lowest end) of Bountiful Ridge, the terminating end of Bountiful Ridge. 25 years ago this was the only way I’d skin up, but over time I got smarter and, to minimize trail-breaking, I started putting my skin-track up near the hill I planned to ski that day. Now in the spring I go back to this route. When the snow is consolidated and trail-breaking is not an issue, I go back to Face-Plant hill because it’s the shortest route up the steepest face below the ridge and the shortness minimizes the crampon work often required when conditions transform to hard, crusted snow.

A quick, cold storm yesterday left about 3 inches of dry powder on top of the hard crust. I worked the morning, I didn’t start hiking until early afternoon, and I was racing the sun . . .  and I lost. The snow was dry at the start, still powdery while skinning with my ski slipping when on this steep side-hill (40 degrees) due to the powder not sticking to the crust (I forgot crampons), but by the time I topped out to ski the powder had turned to cement and the crust now grabby. My turns shown in the last photos are erratic and sloppy and I’m blaming the hot sun.   

City Creek Cirque way below. The south faces melting fast. 

Along the ridge headed toward Rectangle Peak, hidden by the Mahoganys on the right. 

Blacks Peak barely visible middle-right, the white spot just above the brush.

City Creek Canyon on the right, North Canyon on the left, my skin track seemingly pointing to the City Creek Cirque, the distant face barely discernible here because it’s so small. It’s not really a valid ski destination when one can ski Bountiful Ridge.  

Oquirhs through the legs, view SW down City Creek Canyon.

Busting through the cornice at the top of Scott Cutler’s Yellow Coat (ski run out of view to my right). 

The toughest challenge all day was pulling my damn skins . . . 

 . . . so for the next one I removed the ski first. I may have been born stupid but it’s getting better. When skins are new and the glue is clean, and there’s no wax on my skis, those things are welded. The sticky is perfect when they hold onto the ski while hiking yet are easily removed without dismounting from the skis. 

Wearing my brothers shirt, which I inherited 28 years ago (tomorrow) after his passing. I’ve taken it on every ski outing since he died and I’m shocked it is still holding together. It is full of holes and it is threadbare, it offers almost no insulation, but it brings warmth in indescribable ways. 
Mark, larga vida en mi corazón!

Wow, I’ve never seen such ugly turns, even from my tele days. These photos were taken a week after I put-in these tracks and a week of sun didn’t make these turns any less ugly.