Jan 31, 2008, Angle Mt (10,205), Wind River Rg, WY
1/31/08
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Day 31
1-31-08
Angle Mountain (10,205), Wind River Range, Wyoming
There must have been 30 snowmobiles in the parking lot. Maybe more. Groups of them milled by the gas station. Some were revving up by the restaurant. Others by the entrances looking for wayward comrads.
They were everywhere. But it only seemed natural, really.
The "highway" was a white blanket leading 100 miles south and 30 miles east so it really came as no surprise. Hardly out of place. My studded snows had traversed the Wyoming countryside fraught with devil winds, black ice, hellish desert ground blizzards and snow, snow, snow, and I felt a little envious that they could at least go out and enjoy this winter wonderland. I simply had to endure it.
I got back in the car, my picture of our objective on the digital camera for future reference, we drive on to the top of Togwotee Pass.
***
"Check this out," I say to Wayne, nodding to the snowcat coming up trail. We've just sniffed around each vantage of the summit ridge, eyeing lines and plotting tours.
"Not only are we skiing this mountain for free, we also get to see people paying $125/day to do it at the same time."
"This is great," Wayne grins broadly, edging off the summit plateau, "Let's get out of here before that baby unloads."
Serious Wyoming weather ensues down to the goods.
***
We find a spine of rock, like a flatiron, only minuscule. Yet this flatiron had a mantle of snowpack, and the point was a mushroom of snow. The three down hill edges also offer an array of jumps, ever increasing in size, to a sizable 20 on the south face. The snowpack isn't as deep in the Tetons, but it's plenty deep, and we cheer each other on as we ski off each side to an explosion of powder.
1-31-08
Angle Mountain (10,205), Wind River Range, Wyoming
There must have been 30 snowmobiles in the parking lot. Maybe more. Groups of them milled by the gas station. Some were revving up by the restaurant. Others by the entrances looking for wayward comrads.
They were everywhere. But it only seemed natural, really.
The "highway" was a white blanket leading 100 miles south and 30 miles east so it really came as no surprise. Hardly out of place. My studded snows had traversed the Wyoming countryside fraught with devil winds, black ice, hellish desert ground blizzards and snow, snow, snow, and I felt a little envious that they could at least go out and enjoy this winter wonderland. I simply had to endure it.
I got back in the car, my picture of our objective on the digital camera for future reference, we drive on to the top of Togwotee Pass.
***
"Check this out," I say to Wayne, nodding to the snowcat coming up trail. We've just sniffed around each vantage of the summit ridge, eyeing lines and plotting tours.
"Not only are we skiing this mountain for free, we also get to see people paying $125/day to do it at the same time."
"This is great," Wayne grins broadly, edging off the summit plateau, "Let's get out of here before that baby unloads."
Serious Wyoming weather ensues down to the goods.
***
We find a spine of rock, like a flatiron, only minuscule. Yet this flatiron had a mantle of snowpack, and the point was a mushroom of snow. The three down hill edges also offer an array of jumps, ever increasing in size, to a sizable 20 on the south face. The snowpack isn't as deep in the Tetons, but it's plenty deep, and we cheer each other on as we ski off each side to an explosion of powder.
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