Long May You Run Mark, Gone 26 Years, March 22, 2020

Today is the 26th anniversary of my brother Mark's death.  When I get down with thoughts of his leaving it's good for me to get away from life for a few hours. Today I went up to where we use to hike as kids, which always brings a flood of good memories, and I came home happy . . . but the joy was short lived. . .

I've been working from home now for a week due to the Corona Virus (Covid 19), and it's stressful. My employer has told us to not come to work until further notice, and I hate mixing the peace of home with the stress of work. Honestly, if I am working I'd rather be in my cubicle. I like total separation from work and home. Don't mix the two worlds. 

If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs . . .

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

but make allowance for their doubting too,

If you can wait and not be tired of waiting . . . 

If you can dream, and not make dreams your master;

If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with triumph and disaster,

and treat those two imposters just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth  . . . 

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken . . .

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it . . . 

-- Rudyard Kipling

Six-inches of air, just off the drifted Rectangle Ridge. No fifty-footer for me, I like my knees too much, and the proof is that I still regularly back county ski at 58. Plus cliff jumps are passé for real skiers. My first-run ski tracks seen just ahead and to my left. Good creamy powder on the north aspects, spongy and getting wet on the south aspects.

But back to reality, the 'cabin,' about a half-mile up North Canyon (from the end of the pavement).
 Trash begets trash.

Graupel

I often see Mt. Lion tracks up here, but I've never seen the cat.

Mt. Lion patte?

The big house, from the dog-leg on Kara's Pot Farm.

Antelope Island

Clouds and sun, sun. and clouds.

Moose beds, sans Moose. 

Snow-stake, tops-out at 48-inches above the Mueller Trail. Two weeks ago this was a ski jump.

Ordinance or covenant? Harsh baptism of the new rig.

Rudy's Flat snowpack in decline - 98 cm (38.6inches).

The Mueller Trail below etched in snow (at about milepost 4.5 still), from lower Rectangle Bowl.

Deeper snow in lower Rectangle Bowl, 164cm (64.57inches), about half mile and 500 vertical feet above Rudy's Flat, the  northerly aspect holds snow longer than Rudy's Flat which has a sun friendly, SW aspect. 

View north over South Davis County, from lower Rectangle Bowl. 

I see this farmer's smoke-signal every spring. Does anyone know what he/she is burning? 

Oquirhs and Stansburys to the west.

Dead Tree Peak and Ridge (the right-downward ridge) from mid-Rectangle Bowl.

Not sure why but this is my favorite shot from the day. That said, it's a core shot waiting to happen. It's waiting for the next powder day when the world is new and all is hidden. 

Skinner, the snow, two to three inches of soft on top of hard crust, just enough soft to make skinning easy, no crampons necessary, but just barely. I slipped a few times and almost pulled them out.

New skis are perfect (BD Helio 105), only complaint is the tips are just a hair too low. When I get pigeon-toed with my gait, I tripped on the other ski.

First run turns on upper Rectangle, as seen while skinning up the Rectangle/Crescent Divide. 

Crescent Peak (left) Crescent Bowl (middle).

Blacks Peak from the skinner on the Rectangle/Crescent Divide.

Central Wasatch from boot angle, from Rectangle Peak.

A Hefty tall-kitchen garbage bag, not a good idea to use as a dry bag when you have new skins with nuclear adhesive. I've used Hefty's for years as a dry bag. I HATE mixing wet skins and sweat-saturated polypro with my dry gear, so I put my skins and wet shirts into the bags. This was my first bad experience with a garbage bag.

Feels so good when the sun comes out. View SW over SLC towards the Oquirhs.

I tried in vain launch my drone but was never successful, and I wasted about 40 minutes of ski-time, without capturing a second of ski video. The drone gets rave reviews for its obstacle avoidance and for autonomous (non-piloted) flight, and it normally works very well, but today it kept giving me an error message "Unsafe to Launch Space - it is unsafe to launch in this confined area." I flew the drone two weeks ago, launching from this exact spot without any problems, so this was very frustrating. Rectangle Peak is as open a launch pad as it gets. I finally put the drone away and just skied, and it was so nice to not screw with peripheral bullshit. I need to stop the drone craziness. For every good shot I've captured with the drone I've had five failures. Bad angles, bad tracking or just crashing the stupid thing into a tree. Mostly operator error but today it was all the drones fault. Incidentally, when I got home three hours later I launched the drone in my backyard with no problems. I think it was the white background and zero contract: no trees, no shadows. Plus when I was trying to launch there was cloud cover, which amplified the no contrast.  

Mueller trail emerging out of the snow.

Chaos and madness, the world is a total contradiction right now.  

This marker is in the middle of the North Canyon dirt road, the double track, 1/8 mile below the beginning of the single track. There is a marker on a nearby tree saying there is a survey marker nearby, but I've never seen it until today, so I've been confused for years (my wife says decades). Presumably it has been buried in the dirt. Today it was out in the open  due to the 4x4's spinning their wheels up the road in the mud and snow, scraping off the top layers. 

What's Your FRAC-INDEX?

Time for a garage sale. Who wants a KTM? The Super Stinx are not for sale.

FRAC INDEX =	Human Powered Vertical Feet	➗
	Fossil Fuel Powered Miles

Example 1: Skier drives 2.1 miles to North Canyon; skins 4,000 vertical feet (feet gained); drives 2.1 miles home: (using human powered vertical feet gained only, due to the propensity for skiers to ride a lift, duck the ropes then claim it as backcountry skiing.) 

     

= FRAC INDEX = 4,000 / 4.2 = 952.38

Example 2: Skier drives 40 miles from Park City to SLC International airport; flies 3,000 miles to Talkeetna, Alaska; climbs 13,352 vertical feet, West Buttress of Denali (feet gained); flies 3,000 miles back to SLC; drives 40 miles back to Park City:

= FRAC INDEX = 13,352 / 6,080 = 2.20

Hopefully the results are self-explanatory. Adventure vs. footprint, a fine line between indulgence and innocent passion. 

Indulgence! I could live with out any of this stuff and be perfectly happy, except for the Super Stinx, best skis I've ever owned (20 years old and still going strong, 180cm, 75mm under foot, G3 Tele bindings, boots are the red Scarpa Terminators or T2s).

The Gods/Goddesses of back country skiing (I'm not naming names) constantly lecture about global warming. They're rip on and on about the evils of big oil and big energy. I agree 100%, but they lose me pretty damn fast when I see their lifestyles. They continuously travel around the world looking for big lines to ski or climb, and they travel by any means necessary: F-350s, Boeing 737s, snowmobiles, helicopters, Vespas, etc, etc. Any motorized tool is game as long as they can Instagram the results by tomorrow morning. That mentality reflects the human need for approval, and it occurs in all facets of life: career, religion, politics, even back country skiing. It's all great, but actions are much louder than words. We need to be responsible stewards over the earth, it's a tithing of sorts for the greatest gift we've been given (the earth) after life itself. Recognizing our responsibilities is good, but saying one thing and doing the opposite is just plain bull shit, and I have no patience for bull shit.

Don'tr misunderstand, I'm as "tree-hugger" as they come. Utah elected officials lack all credibility for 'Billy-goating' their way out of Bears Ears and Escalante National Monuments. Say what you will about Obama and Clinton, but they know that God's creations serve the well-being of our souls and help reset our spirits in times of stress. Trump, on the other hand, would sell his grandkids for birdseed if he thinks he's making a deal.

My irritation with the God and Goddess of backcountry skiing boils down to personal honesty. I'm willing to admit that I'll drive a mile to Dick's Grocer for a pint of chocolate ice cream, or heat my house to 75 degrees in January.  I'm no different than most of you, but I try to be honest about my weaknesses. Many BC skiers don't always speak their true feelings. They pontificate about this or that cause, then go do the exact opposite. Sooner or later though, truth finds a way, truth is ultimately revealed through actions. Admit it, you would trade a kidney for a tank of gas, or launder your dying Nana's Social Security check in exchange for her lodgings in your root cellar, all just to keep your house heated on Christmas Eve. I know I would.

Perhaps I'm fighting the wrong players, but we, skiers, climbers, river runners, are part of the problem. We brag about working all day, hopping into our big trucks at sunset, driving all night to Jackson or Moab or Golden BC, playing hard all day (or two or three), then jumping back into that big truck at sunset and drive all night just to get back to work the following day. The agenda is almost scripted by Exxon, Mobil or BP Oil. Yes, it is a much better agenda than, say, sitting at home, eating Ding Dongs and bingeing on Outlander, Game of Thrones, Fleabag, et al, all of which are wonderful, 'soft-core-decadence,' which even the best Mormon's rationalize a way to devour, but before change occurs we have to admit that we often promote the exact thing we loath. One of those things is big oil and gas.

A least the talkers of the word, who are often not doers, get it. They know the power of nature even if they don't act on their own words. Far worse are the profiteers who tell me that I'm naive to think that the resources I consume don't require a payment in the form of God's handiwork. I'd argue that Bears Ears and Escalante are at the pinnacle of God's creative power and they require a higher level of protection. They are truly spiritual temples. In comparison, the proven oil and gas fields of the sage-covered-hill-country of western Wyoming or the Permian Basin of Texas are the ugly step-children of divine creativity. They are where we should consume natural resources. I am not so naive to think the resources I consume don't require a debt, but some places are too pure to consume.

If you think I am a naive-daisy-sniffer, go see for yourself. Hop in that big truck, drive to Bears Ears and camp for several nights on Cedar Mesa. Late at night, pull your sleeping bag out of your tent onto the sand, leave your phone and headlamp alone. Crawl into your bag (to ward-off the desert chill), lie on your back and watch the stars glide by. Give it some time. Don't glance briefly then roll over and sleep, study it. Watch it. Soon you won't be able to sleep. Once away from the filter of city lights the night sky of the desert is absolutely stunning. The contrast of the dark of night against the brilliance of galaxies without end will turn your mind to awe and wonder. For most, it's a feeling not recognized since childhood. For some it will be a feeling never before registered. If you don't feel a deep sense of a greater power, something beautiful, something felt from the core of your being, something that lifts and brings absolute peace but defies explanation, then there is nothing more I can say to convince you there is a real spirituality in nature.

The profiteers will never get it because they will never take the Cedar Mesa challenge. They think they already know Gods nature, and arrogance is the enemy of spirituality. To them a Princess Cruise is all the spirituality they can muster.

"Whoever has no rule over his own spirit is like a city broken down, without walls."  -- Proverbs

Think about it. Recognition is where change begins.

(That KTM will never sell now that I've pissed-off every side of the argument.)

Randonee - French for 'Can't Tele'

March 6, 2020 - Skiing Fuller's (aka Black's Peak South Drainage, North Fork City Creek Canyon)

Dropping off Crescent Peak into upper Fuller's. Black's Peak is the knob just above. So easy with fat skis, stiff boots, heals locked.

Trying to get caught up with my posts . . . this post is from an outing on Friday, March 6, 2020....which was warm and windy, hadn't snowed in over a week but the snowpack was good (about average for Early March), the conditions were ok-to-bad skiing, from over-ripe corn changing to total mush in just a matter of minutes. We should have quit and headed for home an hour earlier than we did. 

Upper Fuller's, dropping into the North Fork of City Creek Canyon. 

Stats on the day: 7:00AM start;  9.57 total miles; 3,764 feet vertical gain; 3hrs 39min moving time.  

KPF under moguls.

Rudy's Flat (7,141 ft elevation) under 123cm (48.43 inches) of snow. Two weeks ago there was 130cm (51.18inches). The cool temps have preserved the snowpack, but with sun this will go quickly.

My rock placement in/on a Mtn. Mahogany years ago (I've only had to replace it once in the last ten years) located near where the summer trail tops-out onto Bountiful Ridge, above Tele-Hill. Normally we skin up Rectangle Bowl or Crescent Ridge to gain Bountiful Ridge, but today, feeling a bit nostalgic, we accessed Bountiful Ridge via the low-point of the ridge at it's SW end, with our skin track ascending the ski run I call Tele Hill (aka - Face-plant Hill).

If you know the history of BC skiing then you know that early on (pre-2000's) everyone used tele gear. Tele Hill (the ski run) truly is a face-plant hill, given how archaic old tele gear was. When I was a kid (early-mid 1970's) I got bored with lifts pretty damn quick and I started hiking for turns while still in Junior High (go Millcreek Mustangs!). First it was the low-hung fruit of Cave Hollow (now a trophy-home-hell) and Pyramid Peak (site of my first experience with an avalanche, about 1975). While in high school I became quite a good resort skier, but while riding the tram at Snowbird I was always scanning Superior and Flagstaff, wondering how the skiing was over there, far away from the blow-hards spewing shit on the tram. I started skiing Bountiful Ridge regularly when I wasn't skiing Snowbird, which was the mid 1970's. At first I used my resort gear, booting through deep snow with skis on a pack, but the ascents quickly evolved to using snowshoes. When I got a real job, I bought tele-gear which was the cutting edge gear of the day for ski-mountaineering: long and skinny tele skis (Tua Telemark, Toute Neige, 200cm length, 60mm underfoot) with soft leather boots (Merrill Super Doubles) and Rottefella 3-pin bindings.

My skis from 30 years ago when I did laps on Tele Hill (aka Face-plant Hill): Tua Telemark - Toute Neige, 200cm length, 60mm underfoot.

Crescent Peak from the drainage in upper North Fork of City Creek. Fuller's (the ski run) drops down the leftward ridge and onto the open slope seen above, our turns barely visible in the glare of the snow, if you look really hard.

My boots from the early days - Merrill Super Doubles - soft leathers, about half the rise above the ankle as my current Scarpa F1's or Atomic Backland's, with an estimated flex rating of 40 (my estimate but no joke, very soft!). Check out the Rottefella Bindings: true 3-pins, 75mm offset with zero free-flex (fighting the binding every step while skinning) with zero tension springs (make that NO Springs) to snap the ski back onto your foot while skiing/turning. Tele skiing on 3-pins was truly an art, combining balance, strength and stamina. None of the fake turns you see from todays BC crowd with their stiff downhill boots, huge, surfy boards and free-flex tech bindings that don't wear you out while hiking uphill. Yeah, we never jumped off 50-foot cliffs or did double back flips, so yes, todays skiers are the best the world has ever seen (for the record  I have managed to land 360's on flimsy tele-gear (helicopter by 1970's parlance), but my argument is real: on average, when taking into  account for the shitty gear, the skiers of the 1970's and 1980's were far more talented than today's skiers. Want proof? If you want a good laugh, make a deal with the kid next to you on the tram, the kid with the 120mm skis and who rarely leaves the groomers. Offer him $50 to ski the bumps on lower Silver Fox, but he must do it in under a minute, from cat track to the bridge. We did it all day long in 1982, on our K2-KVC Comps (200cm, 75mm). It was awesome training for the flimsy, skinny tele gear we took to the BC. The best advice for anyone who wants to ski off-piste, get damn good at a resort before skinning to the top of Patsy Marly. Remember, what goes up must come down.     

Today's young skiers have no idea what it took to ski an easy, 35-degree slope with ten-inches of blower powder. The gear used in '80's and 90's was archaic and primitive by today's standard, but it was light-years ahead of what we used in the 1970's (I still have all my old gear - I'll post photo's in a future post.). One had to be very committed to be a BC skier back then. The gear alone was a very unforgiving filter of the riff-raff who toyed (mostly talk) with the fantasy of back-country skiing. I knew hundreds of one-and done skiers back then. Perhaps a slight exaggeration, but the equipment very much limited the number of skiers hiking for turns. Most folks just did not have the skills to ski on that gear. If they did, most were too smart to NOT self-inflict the pain, suffering and physical output required for BC skiing when there was a perfectly fine tram or chairlift hanging off every other peak in the Wasatch.

Yes, the bindings were called 3-pin for a reason. Boots are shown with their corresponding 3-holes.

But I digress, we approached Crescent Peak via lower Bountiful Ridge. Here, the namesake of Dead Tree Peak, which fell over a few years ago. 

Fuller checking out the lines in Dead Tree Bowl.

Dead Tree Bowl

Approaching Crescent Peak with Black's Peak peeking out just above (left-ward slanting, treed slope just right of the white drifted Crescent Peak.

Our ski tracks at the base of Fuller's (ski run) which drops down the southern aspect of Bountiful Ridge into the North Fork of City Creek Canyon, just below Black's Peak.

Ascending back up Bountiful Ridge up this beautiful drainage upper North Fork of City Creek Canyon. Black's Peak is hidden by the conifers mid-left.

Life finds a way. Douglas Fir spreading the love.

Upper North Fork of City Creek Canyon, Black's Peak above, hidden by the firs.

The bottom of Fuller's. We could've kept skiing, but the drainage was getting flatter and more like a half-pipe with aspens than a real great ski run, plus its a classic terrain trap, so we stopped here. The stability was welded today, but you just never know what might happen. Why take chances?

Cool rock as we skin back up to crescent Peak, bigger than it looks (for scale, see Brett in next photo).

Fuller with Crescent Peak just ahead, skin track heading SW from the North Fork of City Creek Canyon. 

Quagga Mussels - someone didn't clean their boat. 

Our turns down Fuller's, descending into the North Fork of City Creek Canyon.

 More turns on Fuller's. Conditions were over-ripe corn. It was still good but we skied it about a half hour too late.

Fuller's drops down this rounded ridge-let then angles right into the Doug Firs (middle right), then drops down another open slope (hidden below) to the base of the drainage. This is a south aspect between 7.2 and 8.4K elevation (you can drop farther down the drainage but this is where the best skiing is found), so the slope is prone to thin cover. It's a great run until you get a missive core-shot in your brand new skis (yes - that happened). During thin snow years this run is often not skiable. 

Looking down Fuller's. We usually stop and re-skin where the drainage pinches rightward, mid-right below. Across the way is Little Black Mountain which is the south side of City Creek Canyon, and the Central Wasatch beyond.  

Snow cover starting to thin. March has been a lamb, still coolish but not a lot of snow.

The Mueller/North Canyon trail emerging, just west of Rudy's Flat.

From the KPF Traverse, the Mueller Trail is emerging from the snow with the southerly aspects melting off.

Green among winter's chaos.