Camel's Hump Recon Mission 1/5/07

Having enjoyed my fair share of powder days for December and January, I headed to the backcountry with Maria. Neither one of us had ever checked out the goods on Camel’s Hump, and Ben’s pictures along with stories from friends made it sound like an enticing destination. So we decided to head out and see what was up for ourselves.

I was all about getting out early and finding the last of the great powder before the thaw. However, I was also aware that we were going on recon mission to learn the lines and that there was no guarantee we’d find the best shots. The day, in fact, ended up being a backcountry comedy of errors, which I am sure was spurred on by the outpouring of skiing folly confessions on the SKIVT-L discussion forum. It was like one of my dreams/nightmares come true.
The previous night I had gone up to BV to pick up Maria’s gear from the Ski Patrol shack. (Conveniently, I had to pick up my gear at the bottom of the hill.) As I approached Ski Patrol the door opened revealing a couple of crusty old BV patrollers ;). They looked at me funny when I told them what I wanted, but went inside to grab Maria’s gear after I described it in detail…blue K2s, flowers, tele setup…and I was off down the hill toward home.

The next morning by 7:30 we’re all geared up and ready to go. I popped my trunk to take out the boards and Maria’s face fell. “Those aren’t my skis,” she said. TIHS! Luckily Maria lives really close to the trailhead so we headed to her house to call BV. Maria talked to the owner of the skis who gave her the thumbs up to ski ‘em. Relieved and already late on our start time, we slipped into a mode where time is no longer of the essence. The kitchen, coffee, and conversation
were comfortable.

We didn’t dawdle too long, though, and were hiking by 9:00. I had heard of a nice line north of the cliffs off the Alpine Trail. Around noon we ducked in there to explore. There weren’t any track going in and the trail was not obvious. The low branches of the trees were heavy with snow and hung over the trail. With my board on my back, I kept ducking and trying not to get hung up in the trees and not to get too much snow down my back. (I couldn’t remember why I like to hike in my raincoat so I didn’t bring it…I remembered.) After about .3 grueling miles, the trail disappeared into the overhanging boughs. We couldn't see any blazes, and the only option was to hike down some to check it out. At this point, we were both running low on energy and didn’t relish the possibly of having to hike back up if the trail was not to be found. We also knew that we had at least another .3 miles to go. So we turned around and hiked back out to the Monroe Trail. Once there we proceeded up to the hut clearing, but stopped just shy of it due to strong winds and low energy.

I got a few powdery turns at the top, but as for the next 1.5 miles…well, let’s suffice it to say that there’s gotta be a way down that’s more fun than a narrow worm hole where you can’t see what’s around the next bend and you know there’s open water somewhere…in more than one spot, really…and you’re glad you wore a helmet because it’s taking a beating from the branches hanging into the trail…a fun factor of 3, an adventure factor of 7…east coast survival skiing…
We were glad to get down to the cliffs and followed a skin track made by a friend earlier in the day below the cliffs. That was a mistake. In going so far in, we missed a bunch of sweet looking lines. We saw them after we descended a short ways and traversed back towards the trail, ending up under the line we had come for. I thought about hiking back up to get ‘em. Alas, I was too tired to rally, and it was getting late.

We continued, I in my snowshoes, and Maria basically cross-country skiing. I was getting really frustrated by this point. All I wanted to do was put my board on and go downhill! Was it too much to ask of a mountain? Finally, we found some pitch and powder. It’s amazing how few perfect turns it takes to make a long, hard day worthwhile. I appreciated the lleh out of those turns…felt every second of each glide and float, soaked it in, reveled in the soft fluffiness and the ease of movement.

And then came the schwackiest run-out known to humankind. Man, it lasted forever…and then there was the trail again. We were out. 4:00, light fading, legs toast, and smiling.
I’ll do it again. (I’ll try just about anything twice.) I did my research and information gathering, marked a few waypoints, inspected terrain, saw where other people’s track were coming from, and got a pretty good idea of how to do it better next time.


Special Bonus Features and Humbling Experiences of the Day
*Running into old friends in the middle of the woods.
*Making new friends in the middle of the woods.
*Two shirtless guys hauling ssa up the trail in snowshoes toting boards on their backs.
*Maria doing the splits in an attempt to cross a creek on the high line.
*Rachel landing upside down, on her back, in a creek after attempting to shoot a high, tight line between two rather large areas of open water that you couldn’t see until you were right on them. She emerged miraculously dry.
*Maria being a typical tele skier and justifying all the traversing by saying, “It’s all still skiing.” Meanwhile, Rachel pines for pitch.
*Less than a mile from the car Rachel’s camel back busts a leak, and a liter of water flows into her pack.

Smuggs New Year's Eve or All About the Pow

Sometimes it about riding with the crew...Sometimes it's all about the pow. Today the pow won out.

6:30 a.m. three inches of snow on my car. It's heavy enough to stick well but
light enough to move around easily. Nice…it's gonna be a great day.

Sterling lift, 8:00 a.m. My friends are late and the lift ops are still digging out. Twenty minutes later, still no friends, but I ride up with someone I met in line and have seen around a bunch. We get fresh down Smuggler's Alley woods as our first run with six inches of snow on top of a hard, crusty base which became softer closer to the bottom.

Second run…M1 to Doc's and the new woods, which are quickly becoming a favorite. I wish I knew where to pop in from the very top instead of half way down the trail. Anyone? The steeper pitch was fun, as well as the run out that rides like a creek bed. Riding high on the "banks" provided plenty of fresh.

Runs three, four, and five…various lines through Attitude…steep and fast, wide open, glorious turns. Rode alone the first time through...like a meditation in glory on snow. Second time, ran into Big John and Hugh halfway down and we hung together back to M1. The lift lines got looong. Met up with Kristian in line and took him along for round three. Sixth run down Shakedown scouting for some obscure line near a big rock on the right…missed it, oh well, still fun.

11:30 Lunch break to refuel for an afternoon of hiking. Coffee, hot lunch of Thai Kitchen ramen, and chatting with folks in the bar. Made a new friend.

12:00 Run seven…Hiking out back with new friend…all the way up…in the lead making small-step boot pack…sorry to all the tall guys behind me ;). Fresh tracks, cut left onto what must be the Sterling Pond trail, and rode it a long ways…farther left than I'd ever been…past the cliffs. Sweet and deep once we finally found a good fall line to ride out. Run eight…all the way up again…our boot pack had disappeared and the new friend took the lead this round. Drop in even further out this time for a long, sweet face shot filled, luxurious good time. Light was waning when we get to the upper lot.

3:00, time for one more. Worm hole to one of my favorite spots. I had purposefully saved it for last with the hopes no one else would go for it in the meantime. No one did. More face shots through steep chutes. The drop was filled in and is no more. The pitch lessens, and I ripped through wide open glades, threadin' needles for fresh…not stopping…until…I hit a small tree luckily with non-essential parts that can sustain a good bruise and not interfere with future days on the hill…still it hurt, and I stayed down for a minute until the pain subsided and the spot of impact went numb (in a good way). The remainder of my run down to
108 went smoothly, effortlessly, beautifully.

We have been blessed and absolutely spoiled with yet another outstanding
powder day :)
Happy New Year!
Rachel