December 5, 2009, Jove Peak, South Face
12/5/09
5252
6
Demented minds think alike. Early December weather has melted the early-season powder, then rained upon that melted powder, then frozen that rained-upon melted powder. Tom Janisch and I know from last weeks experience, as well as the reports of other skiers that north-facing slopes will be too variable (breakable crust) and that forested slopes will be too cratered (frozen death cookies). Tom and I go through the same thought processes and, given the sunshine forecasted for Saturday, have both imagined that the conditions on the south face of Jove Peak could be purrrfect.
Early Saturday morning as we ski up Smithbrook Road, our imagination is still intact, this despite the fact that the frozen snowmobile track were following is an icy luge course. After a few miles, we leave the road and follow compass bearings through the steep forests leading up Union Peak. As expected, we find a combination of breakable crust on open slopes and rock hard snow in the forests. On the descent of Union Peaks northern ridge leading toward Jove Peak, we survive the tricky snow through deft use of snowplows, sideslips, and jump turns. Ugly skiing gets us through the minefield and onto the southwest ridge of Jove Peak.
Through all this our faith remains firm. We can see Joves steep southern slopes and theyre inclined steeply toward the sun. In our imagination, solar energy will have melted the breakable crust and well be sinking ski edges into several inches of consistent snow. In our imagination, the 40-degree slopes that sometimes rip free into massive avalanches will be positively safe and perfectly skiable.
We top the mountain and enjoy its views of the bumpy Cascadian skyline. Despite the blue skies and white sunshine, however, we dont linger. The Arctic air is fricken freezing and is frosting our fingers. Still we imagine that when we slide off the summit and onto those southern steeps slathered with sunshine, rapture will be ours.
Rapture begins with a surface crust thats softened but not dissolved. Each cut of the skis breaks apart plates of armor that topple down the slopes before us. "The conditions are almost there," we tell each other. We imagine that ten turns lower, the slopes will be just enough warmer that nirvana will be ours.
After 10 turns nirvana is still 10 turns lower. We keep descending deploying ungainly but forceful turns that jackhammer the crust under foot. And we keep imagining better turns to come.
Imagination and reality merge about half way down the slope. Suddenly skis slice easily through a papery crust and glide smoothly through several inches of sugar snow. I slalom among sprigs of saplings and around the humps of boulders. When I stop to snap pictures of Tom, he flies past singing his theme song for the day, Imagine, by John Lennon.
The dreams of imagination are short lived. We bag about 1000 vertical feet of memorable skiing before re-entering forests that are a frozen conglomerate of craters and hummocks formed by ice blocks falling from the limbs of giant hemlocks. A short nightmare in the woods drops us onto the road system leading back to the car.
In the end, reams of forgettable skiing are needed to harvest the miniature reward of our imagination. And that bothers us not one bit. Often the experiences that shine brightest are like rays of sunlight that stream from cracks between banks of black clouds.
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More pictures, topo map, and more info
Early Saturday morning as we ski up Smithbrook Road, our imagination is still intact, this despite the fact that the frozen snowmobile track were following is an icy luge course. After a few miles, we leave the road and follow compass bearings through the steep forests leading up Union Peak. As expected, we find a combination of breakable crust on open slopes and rock hard snow in the forests. On the descent of Union Peaks northern ridge leading toward Jove Peak, we survive the tricky snow through deft use of snowplows, sideslips, and jump turns. Ugly skiing gets us through the minefield and onto the southwest ridge of Jove Peak.
Through all this our faith remains firm. We can see Joves steep southern slopes and theyre inclined steeply toward the sun. In our imagination, solar energy will have melted the breakable crust and well be sinking ski edges into several inches of consistent snow. In our imagination, the 40-degree slopes that sometimes rip free into massive avalanches will be positively safe and perfectly skiable.
We top the mountain and enjoy its views of the bumpy Cascadian skyline. Despite the blue skies and white sunshine, however, we dont linger. The Arctic air is fricken freezing and is frosting our fingers. Still we imagine that when we slide off the summit and onto those southern steeps slathered with sunshine, rapture will be ours.
Rapture begins with a surface crust thats softened but not dissolved. Each cut of the skis breaks apart plates of armor that topple down the slopes before us. "The conditions are almost there," we tell each other. We imagine that ten turns lower, the slopes will be just enough warmer that nirvana will be ours.
After 10 turns nirvana is still 10 turns lower. We keep descending deploying ungainly but forceful turns that jackhammer the crust under foot. And we keep imagining better turns to come.
Imagination and reality merge about half way down the slope. Suddenly skis slice easily through a papery crust and glide smoothly through several inches of sugar snow. I slalom among sprigs of saplings and around the humps of boulders. When I stop to snap pictures of Tom, he flies past singing his theme song for the day, Imagine, by John Lennon.
The dreams of imagination are short lived. We bag about 1000 vertical feet of memorable skiing before re-entering forests that are a frozen conglomerate of craters and hummocks formed by ice blocks falling from the limbs of giant hemlocks. A short nightmare in the woods drops us onto the road system leading back to the car.
In the end, reams of forgettable skiing are needed to harvest the miniature reward of our imagination. And that bothers us not one bit. Often the experiences that shine brightest are like rays of sunlight that stream from cracks between banks of black clouds.
+++++
More pictures, topo map, and more info
Inspiring as always! Great TR
Way to go find those few feet of good turns. Glad to hear someone got them!
Way to go find those few feet of good turns. Glad to hear someone got them!
Nice effort, and given the weather and snow as good a bet for decent snow as anywhere. One question: was the snowmobile traffic to the south/west of rainy pass? There's not supposed to be sled traffice from Hwy 2 up to Rainy pass....
Juan, There had been more sled traffic north of Rainy Pass but snowmobiles had definitely been using the Smithbrook Road on the five miles between Hwy 2 and Rainy Pass. I wasn't aware that there was any type of snowmobile closure on the road there. Can you fill me in on the details?
Great report, but a bummer to hear of the sled traffic on Smith Brook Road. I haven't been up there for a few years but cannot remember snowmobiles in the past. I do remember lots of snowshoers and it seems it used to be the most popular non-motorized non-developed access point near Stevens pass, except for Skyline Lake. It would be a shame if non-motorized users are pushed out.
Smith Brook always gets early season snomo traffic until the snowbanks are plowed up enough to keep them from getting off the road, it seems. Pray for snow!
This report reminds me that hope springs eternal. Even down lower at the elevation of Hyak, the mid-day sun didn't do much but bring us a little cheer as we sat and ate our lunch.
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