November 11, 2010, Chinook/Sourdough Gap

[size=14pt]LordHedgie's Law: Even Murphy's Law cannot ruin a foot of fresh powder.

I made plans to meet with several of my friends and ski from Paradise up to Muir.  I double and triple-checked that Stevens Canyon Road was open, because living in Ellensburg makes Paradise a pain to get to once it closes.  They decided to close the road sometime between when I was getting ready to go to bed last night, and when I showed up this morning.

So with 40 minutes before I was supposed to meet my friends, I discovered I was now at least two hours away from them.  Dangit.  Along with Greg C who had carpooled with me, we decided to hit Chinook Pass instead.  That's still open, right?  Right!

Half an hour later we're unpacking the car next to a foot of fresh snow.  A few other folks were making short laps off Yakima Peak, but we were really looking for something more substantial.  This is about the time I notice that I had forgotten to fill my bladder in my pack.  Whoops.  No worries, Greg had some extra water, and before long we're moving along the Pacific Crest Trail under sunny skies.

We made it a few hundred feet above Sheep Lake before Greg decided we should grab some of the powder before the sun turned it to goo.  We skied most of the way down to the lake, but I never really felt in control.  I couldn't decide if I should blame my new skis or my lack of recent powder experience, until I got to the bottom and realized I never buckled my boots.  Doh!

Greg started back up towards Sourdough Gap while I put my skins on.  Once that was done, I found my binding would not lock onto my ski.  After a fair amount of blowing, poking, and pulling, I found my leash had frayed, and some of the fibers were jamming the toe binding.  It took a half hour to get the thing working again, and I put my skis on.... to discover somehow my chest buckle on my pack had bent and wouldn't latch.  Ten minutes of work and I was good to go!  I made it ten feet before realizing my old skins just didn't have much glue, and they had stretched enough the tail hooks couldn't hook them on anymore.  So I rip off the tip hooks, fold the skin through double, and reattach my makeshift shortened skins. 

I made it fifty feet before Greg found me; he had gone all the way to the Gap and waited for me, and come back out of concern that I must have gotten hurt or lost.

Once at the Gap, Greg took a very short run down from Three Way Peak, while I ate lunch.  The wind picked up and it was COLD up there.  Once he returned, we started back toward the car, skiing all but the last half mile or so where skins were required again.  The first hundred feet had poor coverage and we hit a few rocks, but after that it was good; heavier than what we had in the morning, but still good.

We returned to the car just as the snow started coming down in earnest.

Despite all the problems, it was a great day.  A foot of powder in early November.  A chance to ski an area that normally has the dual problems of high avalanche risks and poor access.  And a foot of fresh powder, too.