March 21 - 25, 2003, Green Mountains, Vermont

Wayne's Backcountry Backyard, March 2003

Camels Hump (4,083'), 3/22/03, Saturday
Vertical descent 2,783', 7 mile round trip.

Arriving from Seattle on the red eye Friday morning, it was actually nice to see the sun again.  It was kind of a bummer, however, to find spring-like weather at Burlington airport, as my fantasies of backcountry skiing around my brother's house were filled with epic recounts of bottomless powder and incessant 6-8" March dumps in years past.  But I also was arriving at the height of the Green Mountain snow pack, measuring 74' at the stake on Mansfield.  The snow pack, while warm and wet from the sun, was indeed still very deep even in Wayne's backyard, and he had three days off to show me around his favorite backcountry skis.  I resigned myself that spring corn would have to suffice, and we kicked off the weekend with a night ski in his backyard in knee deep schlop.  

We chose Camels Hump for our first tour of the weekend, a mountain that was literally framed from his living room windows.  We endured the grueling 10 minute drive down the hill to the trailhead (I love descending in the morning for first tracks!) and suited up in Green Mountain stylee.  

Our choices were narrowed on our ascent as the schloppy conditions were terrible off well-traveled trails.  We cruised the well-packed trail and chatted about upcoming trips and past successes.  We still wanted a first for our trip, so three quarters of the way up the mountain we chose the Alpine Trail cut-off bound for the summit.  This would be our first ascent in winter conditions and off we charged up the unclimbed trail.  The going was slow with post holing unconsolidated snow in a gentle rain, the highlight of the trail the sighting of a huge section of wing from a B-52 that hit the mountain decades ago.  This was a surreal sight, the 15' section poking out of the 5 foot snow pack.  Soon enough we were on the summit and descending the Monroe, forgoing a descent on the narrow, traversing Alpine Trail.  

The descent of the Monroe was hard to put into words.  Most of the descent was a wild screaming haze of Zen-like concentration.  My mission was to make short swinging turns down the narrow trail, keeping speed in the heavy, manky snow and trying to keep up with the yellow blur that was my brother in the fore.  We made incredible time and had a full descent all the way down to the snowed-in access road, finishing a 100 yards from our car.  Mountain #1 was in the bag.      

Mt Mansfield (4,393') 3/23/03, Sunday
Vertical descent 2,800', 6 miles round trip.

Driving into Stowe from the rural, mud bogs of Duxbury, I felt like a hillbilly arriving at the Ritz Carlton.  Stowe is a place for the "haves" and "have nots".  The haves flock to the shiny ski lifts of Stowe and après ski lounges that line the Mountain Road, the have nots flock to the Smugglers Notch parking lot for free skiing on Vermont's Old Dame of Skiing.  Mt Mansfield has a reputation as the best backcountry skiing in Vermont, and today just reinforced this reputation.  The weather had turned colder and a light snow was falling, adding to the two smooth inches that covered the now frozen corn.  

Like a long lost friend, I quickly reacquainted myself to the Long Trail's twists and turns, remembering my first backcountry endeavors with glee.  Wayne and I flew up the trail and hit the Taft Lodge at 3,800' without running into a sole on this typically busy mountain.  Perhaps the deteriorating weather repelled the Burlington Fun Clubs or we were too early in the day to encounter their noon-time alpine starts, whichever, we reveled in having the mountain to ourselves.  We took off our snowshoes and made the final assault of the Profanity Trail, kicking steps up the steep headwall in lightly covered bullet proof corn.  The summit was its usual wild tempest of wind, snow, and poor visibility.  We hiked the short way to the USGS marker and dropped our snowboards a few feet from the summit.  

The ski down the Hourglass Couloir off the summit was a dicey affair with a capital D.  The new snow added comfort to the bullet hard snow, but it was no fall territory for sure, working our way over cliff bands and chutes, entering the trade name bottleneck in sloughing powder.  Once in the run out, we stopped and we cheered each other for a ski of good style, each of us acknowledging the fear we were withholding on the steep icy headwall that was now above us.  We worked our way back toward Profanity and had a wonderful near-powder descent to No Qweebs near Chin Clip.  The wide open trees were practically untouched even though its proximity to the ski area, and we ended our run on the lower Chin Clip when the tree skiing became too manky.  

We even got kicked off the gondola for trying to scam a free ride for a last run, adding to the full experience that is BC skiing near a ski area.  Happily, we both arrived back at the car with no gun shot wounds from angry lift attendants and away we drove back to the sanctity of Camels Hump.        

Mountain #2 was in the bag.

Mt Ethan Allen (3,680'), 3/24/03, Monday
Vertical descent 2,380', about 8 miles

Mt Ethan Allen is an obscure peak for Vermonters - in the summer.  It's even more obscure in the winter when the trails are covered with 5 feet of snow.  This was a local's only mountain, and even then, locals only to the Camels Hump area.  You won't find this tour in any guidebook, and if you did, you might find the loud mouth who spoke up in a ditch somewhere with a copy of the book pinned to his chest. For this reason I won't divulge any references to the ski, only my brother's common name: "Powderwheelies".  You can imagine the scene that inspired this name.

After climbing for an hour and a half through ski and hiking trails, we entered the woods on a climb of some of the most incredible glades I have ever seen.  Wayne's comments about Powderwheelies was that it was world class and that truly unbelievable skiing could be found in the second growth forests lining the "trail", and my first impression was that he was spot on.

As we climbed, we passed mandatory cliff bands, steep chutes, tight trees and open streambeds.  Our descent was spectacular in slushy wet corn, and the terrain just screamed POWDER with each open glade shot.  I will only say I will be back to ski Powderwheelies when "in"but now I can count myself as one of the lucky few who have skied from Ethan Allen's summit.  This mountain wasn't just world class; it was close to my heart and had me hooked.  At least now I could read Wayne's trip reports in years to come and sigh, remembering the birch glades and open woods, knowing exactly of what Wayne preached.  

Mountain #3 was in the bag.

On Tuesday morning Wayne had to return to work (which entailed herding his kids into the bedroom to play and turning on his computer in the loft - what a life!) so I was stuck skiing the "Duxbury Downhill" behind his house.  This little gem literally began in his backyard and climbed Crosset Hill 700' vertical to the ridgeline, and followed "improved" glade skiing back down past his property.  After lunch and goodbyes, I was back on a plane bound for Washington.
 
While I was sad I couldn't write about unbelievable powder on this trip, I was glad to have experienced the beginning of the end of Vermont's winter gifts.  Top to bottom skiing on just a sampling of Vermont's backcountry bounty; hardly a sole was found skiing on any trail all weekend; not a lift line to negotiate and to top it all off some damn fine company with Wayne's wife and two adorable children made up for the "lacking" snow conditions.

And powder will just be a good excuse to return!