Home > Trip Reports > July 17, 2004, Squock Glacier (Recent Photo)

July 17, 2004, Squock Glacier (Recent Photo)

7/17/04
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Posted by wickstad on 7/18/04 7:06pm
It's hard to predict when your best day in the mountains will come.  

Just last Friday the 16th I was lamenting to a friend about how the skiing had not soured me for the season yet. Then we skied Saturday.

Careful routefinding (follow the Scott-Paul trail to just past the big creek crossing west of Crag View) brought us to the snow...a >31-turn gully.  I left a couple cairns at the top for descenders.  Just look skier's right of the main drainage below and west of Crag View.

The snow directly above us showed signs of blue ice and steepness.  We opted to traverse further west where we found some climbers descent tracks.  A short climb on top of a rock spine (one exposed 3rd class move) brought us to continuous snow.

Random thoughts would come and go as I tried to get some words wrapped around the emotions I was feeling as we climbed.  North Twin Sister was such a prominent companion.  I thought about username's recent descent.
I wondered who if anyone was on the Boulder/Park route.  I thought about reports by NickD and TOMSKI.
Even Markharf's claims about the snow, though now weeks old were starting to make sense to me.  As I kicked my boots into the slope I was able to describe my feelings with one word.  Giddiness.  I turned and proclaimed this to Elisa.  She was giddy too!  

There were some things that reverberated more in my head than others.  From Skykilo, "This might not mean anything to you, but it means something to me."
From my Dad, "I've taken several chances to see a lake called Francis.  It's what heaven is to me."  We were in heaven.  And we had yet to put our edges to the snow.

I thought about Gary Brill's crevasse warnings but never really felt unsafe (we were unroped).  

Higher up the snow was different.  More like a cross between corn and mashed potatoes.  I would either get an earlier start than 7:30am or just ski the lower slopes that are steeper anyway.  We climbed to the crevasse crossing below the prominent red rock (8550').  We began skiing at 2pm. 

Skiing was ok up high where the slopes maybe get more sun.  The lower slopes that are steeper were really good.  Just minor sun-cupping and no runnells until the craggy area (even then our route avoided them).

But for two short carries and a stop for gushing yummy water we skied to the Scott Paul Trail (5030').

To Mike:  Want to ski Boulder/Park next week?  

Edit to add turn-around-time.

 

Vince and I descended from the crater, ca. 9550 ft, down the Squak on Saturday:  I assume that was you on your way up.  I was on Rando and Vince was on Tele.

What a fabulous day. . .amazing.  We skinned the whole way up and  crossed the big crevasse at 8500+ by a rapidly deteriorating snow bridge and timely rope belay.  That probably won't be skiable in a week or less, unless you jump.  Above and below the snow was great fun, and down at the bottom steep section it was wonderful.  We skied more to the west through some steeper stuff down to our camp at 5500ft.  All in all over 4000vf of good skiing and spectacular scenery.

Matt

Here is a photo taken on July 31, 2004.

;D Thanks for the story. It made me laugh. I love those kind of days in the mountains. It is what brings me back.  

The moon dance
the river lance
my soul dives
the turning moon cries

The sun sighs
tomorrow hides
But now
there is no foul

This second descends
the moment defends
No time can taint
This day I paint

---a picture
of my adventure
an instant
not distant

The mountain high
the bird cry
The thunder cloud
the booming sound pounds loud

My ears
my fears
all emotion
such commotion

Yes the moment
a torment
a mighty ship
a journey leapt

It all makes sense
I'm not dense
Everything rings
And truth sings

Give and take
This life you make
Good and bad
Take and be glad

I didn't mean for this to be so long, but now that I've written it. Enjoy...

Thanks Jason H.  

I misquoted my dad.  I called to ask him If it was okay to post "Lake Frances" on the internet and he asked, "what's that?".  (He then told me some of it might be borrowed from Lord Byron's "Prisoner of Chillon".)

Lake Frances

Take me to the meadow and the mountain.
Far above the timber and the brush.
Let me pass beside the stream that I may see and hear
it leap and gush.
When I crest the mountain-I will look down on a glint of blue.
This is a lake of the high Cascades and I must have a better view.
I crawl along a jagged ridge and down a bank of snow.
I descend an ancient rockslide to a meadow not far below.
I suck on glacial ice which helps to see me through.
I reach the meadow floor and I have my better view.
I see the dark deep blue water which is what I have come to see.
But all that I have passed along the way is what heaven is to me.
I have taken several chances to see a lake called Frances.
It is where I have to be.

Darrell Johnson.





Thanks. I like that wickstad. Poetry seems like a lost form anymore.

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2004-07-19 02:06:05