2-23-07, Upper Hemispheres, N C Green Mnts, VT
2/23/07
2361
2
Day 29
2-23-07
Mt Mansfield stake: 77
Upper Hemispheres to Rocks in Your Head
North Central Green Mountains, Vermont
Avalanche!
I turn around to see Wayne standing on the crown of a slab avalanche 1 1.5 feet deep, propagating from the snowshoe track I had just created. The slab was 15 feet wide and formed a trapezoid devoid of snow, the result of a wind deposit suspended and protected between two krummultz trees. We were on the exposed, open slopes of the highpoint of Hemispheres, a long 40 degree face capped by cliff bands, with the remnants of the second biggest snowstorm in Burlingtons recorded history under our feet.
We had been battling uphill for several hours, enjoying the slowly consolidating knee and thigh deep powder, with sections of denser snow making for slightly easier travel. At Stowe over the weekend the talk of the town were the avalanche warnings posted on the snow report. The 46 of new snow during the storm cycle was not bonding well to the old surface due to cold temps (below zero all weekend) and travel outside the area boundaries, the warning read, was not recommended.
Very interesting. Nearly a week after the snow cycle and following moderating temps (we were in the balmy teens), and avy conditions still existed. I watched in awe as the slab gained speed, broke up, and went crashing, cheese grater stylee, through the dense forest below. An awesome display of the destructive nature of the avalanche. I cringed at the thought of riding that tiger into the trees.
Wayne slowly resumed walking up the track, the suspended nature of the snowshoe track above the crown made my stomach turn as he crossed above the last of the hang fire.
The next pitch followed a tongue of snow up a steep wall, ending in a mandatory rock climb to the snow fields above. Wayne gave me the pitch and I enjoyed stemming and chimney moves in my snowshoes, rolling over onto the snow at the top of the cliff elated. I looked out over the valley, picking out his house and meadow across way, 2,000 VF of powder below. Maybe it was the brownies. Maybe the sunshine. Maybe the close call with death. Yeah, everything was hopping.
The final pitch traversed below what Wayne calls the Dial-a-Drop cliff band, a convenient cap of rock that allows 10 feet to insane amounts of air, depending on the mood. We sampled this drop two times each it was so much fun. Below, the steep ice wall pitch and blower face shot powder.
At the bottom of Upper Hemisphere, we follow our tracks back across the plateau to the top of Rocks in Your Head, a bizarre open ridge halfway down the mountain that provides surprising skiing. Elevator Wayne says. I ski out onto an open ridgeline, the wooded mountains surrounding the valley an open canvass as the horizon drops away. I see rock islands where cliff bands lurk, and I follow Waynes directions down the spectacular run. We bob and weave through birch glades and open forest, truly down mountain skiing. Near the bottom we pick up a logging road and from there, sweet, sweet oblivion.
Just one thing, Wayne says to me when we near the car. Next time you ask if we should bring our beacons even here in Vermont, the answer is yes.
2-23-07
Mt Mansfield stake: 77
Upper Hemispheres to Rocks in Your Head
North Central Green Mountains, Vermont
Avalanche!
I turn around to see Wayne standing on the crown of a slab avalanche 1 1.5 feet deep, propagating from the snowshoe track I had just created. The slab was 15 feet wide and formed a trapezoid devoid of snow, the result of a wind deposit suspended and protected between two krummultz trees. We were on the exposed, open slopes of the highpoint of Hemispheres, a long 40 degree face capped by cliff bands, with the remnants of the second biggest snowstorm in Burlingtons recorded history under our feet.
We had been battling uphill for several hours, enjoying the slowly consolidating knee and thigh deep powder, with sections of denser snow making for slightly easier travel. At Stowe over the weekend the talk of the town were the avalanche warnings posted on the snow report. The 46 of new snow during the storm cycle was not bonding well to the old surface due to cold temps (below zero all weekend) and travel outside the area boundaries, the warning read, was not recommended.
Very interesting. Nearly a week after the snow cycle and following moderating temps (we were in the balmy teens), and avy conditions still existed. I watched in awe as the slab gained speed, broke up, and went crashing, cheese grater stylee, through the dense forest below. An awesome display of the destructive nature of the avalanche. I cringed at the thought of riding that tiger into the trees.
Wayne slowly resumed walking up the track, the suspended nature of the snowshoe track above the crown made my stomach turn as he crossed above the last of the hang fire.
The next pitch followed a tongue of snow up a steep wall, ending in a mandatory rock climb to the snow fields above. Wayne gave me the pitch and I enjoyed stemming and chimney moves in my snowshoes, rolling over onto the snow at the top of the cliff elated. I looked out over the valley, picking out his house and meadow across way, 2,000 VF of powder below. Maybe it was the brownies. Maybe the sunshine. Maybe the close call with death. Yeah, everything was hopping.
The final pitch traversed below what Wayne calls the Dial-a-Drop cliff band, a convenient cap of rock that allows 10 feet to insane amounts of air, depending on the mood. We sampled this drop two times each it was so much fun. Below, the steep ice wall pitch and blower face shot powder.
At the bottom of Upper Hemisphere, we follow our tracks back across the plateau to the top of Rocks in Your Head, a bizarre open ridge halfway down the mountain that provides surprising skiing. Elevator Wayne says. I ski out onto an open ridgeline, the wooded mountains surrounding the valley an open canvass as the horizon drops away. I see rock islands where cliff bands lurk, and I follow Waynes directions down the spectacular run. We bob and weave through birch glades and open forest, truly down mountain skiing. Near the bottom we pick up a logging road and from there, sweet, sweet oblivion.
Just one thing, Wayne says to me when we near the car. Next time you ask if we should bring our beacons even here in Vermont, the answer is yes.
Yowza man - I am glad there is a happy ending. That sure looks like a nice sunny day but I can tell it was cold because you are wearing your good coat. Nice pictures Wayne.
Nice! Thanks for the east coast TR. Praise the lord for noreasters, the Valentines Day storm just about saved our season and of course dumped lots of powder. We had a ball yo-yoing it on a mountain close to where you probably made these turns. Glad to see you got some too.
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