February 20, 2006, Crystal to Chinook

Thousands of words and pictures have been devoted to the experience of turning on skis.  A smaller body of literature describes touring, much of it low elevation skiing through woods. Very little, it seems, has been written about one of the finest experiences skis can offer.  That is to push off a high ridge, set your edges on a gradually descending traverse, and then hold 'em.  No turns - maybe some poling and skating - just letting your skis gobble up the miles.  Above treeline, where you can watch the landscape wheel by, there are few finer sensations.  

That's what this trip was about.  In 1991, my brother Carl and I skied the Crystal Mountain to Chinook Pass traverse on a day when the lifts were hard-packed and icy.  Sort of like we've had lately.  Carl took the photo of me above, at Chinook Pass.  Since then, this has been a favorite tour when lift skiing is uninspiring.  On our first trip we skied all the way down Highway 410 to the Crystal Mountain turnoff.  But in subsequent years I've always returned along the traverse back to Crystal Mountain.  

I drove up to Crystal this morning with a vague idea to do some touring around the boundaries of the ski area.  The incoming weather system was delayed, so I decided to head for Chinook Pass.  I left a detailed note on the dashboard of my car (my wife knew only my vague plans) and started skinning up Quicksilver around 9:30 a.m.  Crystal's backcountry is one of those places I think is best if you discover it for yourself.  There are several ways to get from the ski area to Chinook Pass, but I won't detail my route here.  Although the snow conditions were mediocre for turning, they were great for covering distance.  

Above timberline, the slopes were either wind packed or scoured to a sun crust.  Everything was edgeable.  I've never seen better conditions for setting an edge and letting the skis run, and I was able to hold a higher line than ever before.  By 12:30 p.m. I was at the Chinook Pass footbridge pictured above.  There's a lot more snow up there now than in the picture.  The arch is completely filled in, and from the Yakima side only a low snow ridge is visible.  The other side of the bridge is partly exposed and you can read the Wenatchee National Forest sign.  

I returned to Crystal Mountain by a different route, completing a nice loop.  As I dropped into Silver Basin, the storm arrived and I squinted into a blizzard.  The wind diminished as I skied down Quicksilver and I returned to the lodge by 2:30 p.m.  I made only a few dozen turns all day, but the feeling of movement was really satisfying.  

Here's one of the few passages I've found that describes the pleasure of a day like this.  

"On the smooth unchanging gradients of a gentle glacier you lose the sense of personal movement. You feel as if you were stationary and as if it were your surroundings that are moving. Your skis seem like a narrow skiff anchored in midstream, a slender boat that sways gently as the river sweeps round the bows. The illusion is reinforced in late spring when you reach the wrinkled limit of the snows, and where your skis float over the ground swell of snow waves. As the speed relaxes, the hills move to a sedater measure. The foreground that had rushed up to meet you slows down... Suddenly the world gives a little jerk. The mountains stop moving and the world of fancy gives way to the world of sober fact."  

Arnold Lunn
"Skiing the Skyline"