Goldie - the mad genius behind the hut burrito theory of increased powder productivity.

The trick is to pre make burritos, wrap them in tin foil and lable them with a Sharpie.  When you get up in the morning, drop it on top of the stove (or exhaust pipe heater), go about your business and within a few minutes you have an instant breakfast.  Clean up entails crumpling the tin foil and throwing it away.  The magical burrito lends it self to breakfast (egg, bacon, sausage, beans, etc.), lunch (classic meat, bean & cheese) or dinner (steak, peppers, avocado, cheese).  Fresh burritos have a short shelf life, but they travel well and work perfectly for a one or two day trip.

The burrito theory in practice. Put them on a warm stove, gear up, drink some coffee, eat a warm burritto and start skinning.

I guess if you were truly looking for the path of least resistance you could even use store bought burritos or Big M Steakhouse burgers wrapped in tin foil.  The possibilities are endless.
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The indomitable Bean Bowers.

I met Bean at a few climbing gathering, but really got to know him when I was putting together a ski/kiting trip down to the Southern Patagonia Ice Cap in 2005. I asked a mutual friend, Kris Erickson, if “Bean” was Bean’s real name, to which Kris replied, “Hmmm, I don’t think so, but for a nickname, “Meat” or “Brick” would be more fitting.”  Bean was a very tough mofo with a heart of gold.  As I was asking Bean for info on the Ice Cap, he eventually asked “Who’s going?” It was only Ben Ditto and myself at the time, so I said the trip was open if he knew of anyone else who was interested.  A minute later, he was signed up.  I was surprised, and not surprised, as like many great all-around Alpinists, Bean was mainly known for his climbing skills, but was also a shredding skier.

Bean getting ready to ski the biggest wind-drift I've ever seen. This was on the backside of Cerro Torre and must have been 300-500' tall - bigger than some midwest ski areas.

After getting underway, we trekked up Rio Electrico,  and decided to do a warm up run on a peak named Gorra Blanca (White Hat – pardon my Spanish).  Bean knew the history of the area and didn’t think it had been skied from the top as the summit was guarded by a classic Patagonia ice mushroom.  We cramponed our way around a weakness in the ‘shroom and soon enough I was on top with Bean.  I was busy being blown away by all of the scenery, so Bean asked if I’d mind if he started down the run.  “By all means – be my guest.  Let me take a few photos.”

Bean made a few turns in the thin summit powder and then went fully bases up and into a low orbit before falling out of sight.  I was sure I had just witnessed his death, so my first thoughts were “Don’t panic – we don’t need a second victim.”  My second thought was of his girlfriend.  Bean was going out with Helen Motter (they were later married) who I first met when she was going out with Hans Saari, who fell to his death skiing in Chamonix. The thought of calling her with a double dose of bad news wasn’t appealing.

Bean just moments before losing it on Gorra Blanca.

I worked my way down the arete until I could see Ben and shouted down to him:

“Can you see Bean?”
“Yes.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yes.”

I couldn’t (and still can’t) believe it.  Bean had gone a few hundred feet totally airborne before bouncing once and then sticking it on a fifty degree slope with blue ice, bershrunds and ice towers all around.  He had landed on the one and only sliver of powder on that entire side of the mountain and somehow survived.  He climbed back out to us, but right near the top a 15′ overhanging cornice blocked his path.  Ben and I tied together every piece of webbing we had, anchored it to an ice axe and and threw it down to Bean who proceeded to Batman up it hand-over-hand.  I had know know Bean for about four days total and was very impressed.  And relieved.

A day later, our trip got even more exciting when we walked into one of the most intense storms any of us had ever experienced.  We were camped on a rocky perch about a mile below a col that when the weather went from sunbathing to a howling hurricane which lasted roughly 3-4 days.  After the first day our perch was covered in verglass, and even though we had repeatedly staked the tent out with everything we had (a total of 21 anchors, including pitons, cams, tent stakes, rocks, etc), I was sure we were going to lose the tent. The wind gusts were so strong and violent that the pressure from the tent collapsing was making my ears pop.  When it got really bad, we’d put on everything we’d need to survive when/if the tent exploded, so at times we were sitting around in a tent fully clothed for skiing, including helmets and goggles.  After about day two, we decided that it was alright to use waterbottles for pee bottles, so we wouldn’t have to go outside.  Bean explained that it was okay as urine was sterile (I’ve since heard otherwise from less sporty partners), so the rest of the trip was flavored with, uhmmm, tangy water.  We also spent quite a bit of time debating the merits of shitting on rocks in the vestibule and then throwing them out the door, but decided against it, which meant we had to get fully geared up for battle, including crampons, helmets and goggles to take a dump.  Ever the optimist, Bean proclaimed that the best part of all of this was that because the wind was so strong, we wouldn’t need toilet paper.  This became his battle cry as he’d head out for a dump: “Patagonia – it’ll rip the shit right out of yer ass!”

Bean hanging out in our tent while the weather raged outside.

(As a humorous postscript, we finally decided to make a break from our camp, and after climbing a mile to the col… it was almost dead calm.  We had been camped in the bulls-eye of a wind venturi.  Hahaha.  Oh well.)

Once we got up onto the icefield, it was time to kite.  Bean had never kited before, so he was kind of nervous about it, but game.  As often happens with kiting, once I launched, the wind turned out to be much stronger than expected, so it was a matter of hanging on for dear life while rocketing down the ice cap through 12″ of new snow and towing a sled.  I was on the edge of control when I looked over and saw another kite next to me, which I assumed was Ben, as he was the more experience kiter.  We continued on like this for about 45 minutes without really knowing where we were going when suddenly a STUNNING cirque appeared to our left.  It turned out to be the famed Cirque of the Alters, which is the backside of the Torres (Egger, Cerro Torre, etc.).

Pulling into the Cirque of the Altars under kite power. Wow.

The wind blew us into the cirque and died right at a perfect camp spot, and it was only then that I realized it was Bean, not Ben beside me, and man was he pumped up. This was his first time kiting and we had just covered what would be a brutal slog at blazing speed.  All Bean could say for the first five minutes was “Holy shit!  Holy shit!  Holy Shit!” He then explained how he was talking to himself the whole way – “Come on Bean, focus, relax, stay calm, don’t crash.  Focus Bean.  Stay calm.”  He was instantly addicted to kiting and for a guy who loved the Southern Patagonia Ice Cap, it was like finding religion.

We stayed in the Cirque of the Altars for about six days and did some of the most scenic and spectacular skiing I’ve ever experienced.  Making turns where your spray washes up against the golden granite walls of Patagonia is a surreal experience.  On one day, we followed a group of climbers up the shoulder of Cerro Torre who were doing the second ascent of the Ferrari (I think..?) Route.  Bean was beside himself as this was something he had always wanted to climb, the weather was perfect and it looked like the party was going to make it.  He was frothing at the mouth to jump on it, but settled for the ski descent instead.

Bean at the base of the Ferrari Route without climbing gear. That's what you get for hanging out with a skier. Sorry buddy!

Anyone who was lucky enough to spend time with Bean has similar stories.  The guy lived life to the absolute fullest and when I last visited him and it was apparent that he was quite sick, he was still talking about his upcoming plans.  But, if you never had a chance to meet Bean, I’ll share his secret Mac & Cheese recipe – boil pasta, add a pound of cheese and stir.

“Bean, that’s uhmm, pretty thick Mac & Cheese.”
“Yeah?  How do you do it?”
“Well, I add some milk and maybe some butter and spices.”
“That would be Mac & Cheese & Milk & Butter & Spices.  This is just Mac & Cheese.”

It's Mac and it's cheese. Just like the name says. Any questions?

I miss that guy!
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Dog jam at the OK Corral.

Like people, dogs seem to prefer knee to thigh deep light powder or corn snow.  Crust is too tough on their shins and if it gets too deep they start wallowing.  Thigh deep on a dog is about 12″ and they appreciate a nice solid base to push off of.   The perfect pitch for them is something steep enough that they can surf through it but not so steep it is scary.   I have a special dog circuit with a few roll overs on it that dispel any question about whether dogs can smile or not – when they hit it just right, their eyes light up and they have a jowl-to-jowl canine grin that can’t be denied.

Greta poaching (or is it pooching?) Otto's line. This photo answers the question of whether or not dogs can smile, and if so, do they smile when skiing.

Snow clumps in your armpits - a small price to pay for a powder day, plus it gives you something to chew on for the next hour or so before passing out.

Dogs will usually stay in the skin/ski track if they aren’t familiar with the area, but once they’ve done it a few times it’s fun to see them develop their own lines.  Usually this means the path of least resistance back to the car, but sometimes they just go off and do their own thing while keeping an eye on you in the woods.  I’ve seen all sorts of dogs in the backcountry ranging from Jack Russel Terriers to St. Bernards.  They all seem to enjoy it, although short haired dogs need to keep moving or they get cold.  Avalanche dogs tend to be either German Sheppards or Golden Retrievers and I’ve been partial to Bernese Mountain Dogs as they thrive in the snow.  We lost our loyal ski buddy, Greta, today after 11 years and I hope she is up in doggy heaven sleeping in a deep pile of snow and surfing steep pillows.

Carl Skoog took this photo of me and Greta as part of a series he was doing based on using a cheap little camera.

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My first experience with the Snowbird expansion machine was about 15 years ago when they were proposing to put in a 50,000 square foot “warming hut” on top of Hidden Peak. It was billed as being architecturally sensitive to the surroundings, but from the artists sketches it looked like they wanted to construct the Sydney Opera House at 11,000 in the central Wasatch. I attended the public hearing which was standing room only and overwhelmingly against the idea.  After an hour or more of comments against the idea, the Commissioners asked if there was anyone in the audience who wanted to speak for it, which is when I first met the Three Horsemen of Irrational Wasatch Development – a child, a senior citizen of European heritage and a person in a wheelchair. Five minutes later, the decision was made – in the name of doing it for the children, the handicapped, senior citizens and of course, to be World Class, it was approved.  Thank you very much.  Goodnight. Exit out the back to a roar of disapproval.

Lately Snowbird has been at it again, this time with a proposed “Alpine Coaster” which not only starts on the most iconic peak in Utah, Mount Superior, but also requires a bridge to cross over Highway 210 (the Little Cottonwood road) which is a State Scenic Byway.  I missed the public hearing on this as it was scheduled right before the Christmas holidays (coincidence?), and the idea seemed so ludicrous that I was sure it would get shot down by the Planning Commission, which just goes to prove I’m incurably naive.  Once again, a goofball idea was approved.  Thank you very much.  Goodnight. Exit to the rear.

The project is being appealed and a rally was held today at the Salt Lake County Planning Commission building to protest it.  It is hard to say what Snowbird is up to with this and many of its other proposed atrocities.  Projects like this destroy the very essence of the canyon, the neighbors hate it, the public hates it and it seems hard to believe they would ever recoup their costs on the structure. Then again, perhaps it is intended as Shock & Awe, which can then be converted to Bait & Switch.  OK, we won’t build the Alpine Coaster, but instead we want (insert some lesser evil here). In any case, it doesn’t do much to endear me as a local to The ‘Bird, but I’m not their target customer anyway, so I suspect they could care less.
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The coveted "Wasatch Tours - 0" book. Rumors have it that there are pristine versions buried in forgotten libraries of Deer Valley mansions and that they are listed on eBay for $600.

I started touring on the See’m & Ski’em program which involved wandering around until you saw something to ski, and then go do it.  The first thing that caught my eye when I finally saw “Wasatch Tours” was all of the beautiful aerial photos with routes named “A.”  These always looked like the choice lines and I assumed there were routes B, C and D elsewhere in the book, but in fact the authors, Alexis Kelner and David Hanscom, were marking known avalanche paths.

A page from "Wasatch Tours 0" with the distinctive "A" marking.

During an early outing in Cardiac Bowl, Dave Hanscom’s touring party triggered a huge avalanche which caught and carried a member of their group, who luckily survived.  This was pre beacons, and in a large part, before avalanche eduction even got started. As such, a major impetus of “Wasatch Tours” was to identify, and thus avoid, known avalanche paths.  By the time I got my hands on a copy, the prevailing attitude had swung 180 degrees with a friend telling me “Look for the “A’s” – that’s the best skiing.”   I was thinking of this progression (?) the other day when I read a Powder Magazine article on Extreme Skiing which said the the future of the sport finding big, steep lines and skiing them in deep snow, as fast as possible.  Time will tell, but meanwhile, Kelner and Hanscomb are still very much alive and still skiing.

Dave Hanscomb (left) and Alexis Kelner with a copy of the original "Wasatch Tours."

In 1993, Kelner & Hascomb updated and expanded Wasatch Tours into a three book series which is still the bible of backcountry skiing in the Wasatch. Before that, Alexis Kelner was very involved with proposing the Lone Peak and Mt. Olympus Wilderness areas, and getting them passed. Every time I skin by one of those wooden signs marking the boundaries of these fantastic resources I say a quiet “Thanks Alexis!”  Alexis and two other friends later went on to form the conservation group “Save Our Canyons” which has been an instrumental voice in protecting the mountains, water and environment that makes the Salt Lake area such an attractive place to live.  Save Our Canyons is still going strong 37+ years later.

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The WPG 2010/11 Operating Plan states “WPG will practice good backcountry ethics, including: (a) allowing ski mountaineers who arrive at a particular location before WPG an opportunity to ski first, and (b) avoiding, when practical, flying through passes and along ridges occupied by other backcountry users.”  At least that is what they tell the Forest Service.  The photo below shows the reality.  We are standing on a ridgeline, in plain view, especially from above and not only does WPG land on top of the nearby peak, but then WPG guide Ryan Carlson brings his entire group straight over to us and proceeds to ski the slope we had just skinned up.

Ryan Carlson bringing his group of clients over to ski the slope we had just spent 40 minutes skinning up and were preparing to ski. Thanks dude.

Two minutes later, Mike “Ole” Olson lands on the same peak and does the exact same thing.

Mike "Ole" Olson leading his ducklings to the slope we had just spent 40 minutes skinning up.

It’s hard to blame the clients too much as they usually have no idea what is going on.  We asked one of them who his guide was and he said “I don’t know the guys name.”  Another client admitted “Yeah, this area is way too small for heliskiing. Sorry.”

WPG ski tracks going straight over a skin track with two tourers on it and another skin track in the background.

WPG's calling card, which they leave a good ten times a day on peaks, valleys and everywhere in between.

The Forest Service allows WPG to “trim brush and small trees to facilitate flight safety” which WPG interprets as cutting branches off of live nearby trees to use as staffs for their survey tape markers. It’s a mystery why they can’t use tomato stakes, scraps of lumber or something else.  I guess it is just more fun, authentic and manly to cut up trees.

"Wasatch Powderbird Guides will fly in a manner that minimizes noise and visual impacts to backcountry skiers."

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The Sun said it, I believe it and that settles it.  Now, about Kylie’s ski snog with her LOVED-UP hunk…

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I’ve got quite a few friends who ski without any sort of health insurance and have done so myself in the past.  My case was semi-accidental as I started out with self-employed health in$urance, which represented almost as much per month as my mortgage,  and then after a year, it was raised for no apparent reason.  I hadn’t filed a claim, visited a doctor or been late on a payment, yet it went up about 20% and the insurance company said that’s just the way it goes.  So, I decided to cancel that policy and look for another, yet they were all pretty much the same – sizeable monthly payments and HUGE deductibles which in essence only covered major surgery.  For anything as trivial as a broken arm, torn ACL or taking a ski tip in the head, you were on your own.  My one week search turned into a month… then another, then another, and since I hadn’t been hurt, it started to lose its urgency.

It's not funny until somebody gets hurt. Courtney about to go into shock when he sees what a trip to the hospital will cost him.

I eventually became insured again, but for quite a few of my skiing/climbing friends, especially those on the Pro Dirtbag Tour, health insurance is about as obtainable as a new Massarti.  Another factor with this is that some seasonal skiing jobs provide lodging, food and even season’s passes, but not insurance.

In Utah, there is a lawsuit which has been dragging on for years over an uninsured skier who broke his back and is now paralyzed.  At first blush it seems like a standard case of taking personal responsibility, but for a growing number of people, it is becoming a choice between skiing, or being insured.  To afford insurance, you can’t work a part time job at a ski area.  Working a full-time job with benefits means that you won’t be skiing.

What’s the point?  Nothing really (aside from the awesome photo of Courtney with his soon to be chick-magnet scar) except as food for thought.

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“Hmmm, yes, here Xav and Jeremy share a moment together in the mountains.  Very nice”
“Here Xav and Jeremy look into the sun and hold hands for a moment. Yes.”

A photo lifted from Tero's website - terorepo.com

One photo featured a boarder going down a chute while the other one watched, to which Tero added “Yes, you know the old mountaineering saying “Never leave your partners behind”"  which with the simple addition of an apostrophe (Never leave your partner’s behind) takes on a hole new meaning.  I’m not sure which wisdom Tero was referring to, but I got a good laugh out of it.

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There is something about this trip that reminds me of standing barefoot in a puddle and intentionally grabbing onto the positive and negative electrodes coming from a nuclear power station.  Exciting and thrilling don’t seem to do it justice, especially as the jolt lasts for two full weeks. More than any trip I’ve ever been on, the Antarctic Ski Cruise has some sort of crazy energy that is hard to explain.  Imagine the anticipation you feel when you join four close friends, pile into a car and head up to the hills for a day of killer skiing, except in this case it is 100+ friends, the car is a cruise ship, the road is the Drake Passage and the ski hill is like nothing you’ve ever seen or skied on before.  In a sense it is still “just” skiing, but in this case it is exponentially more.

A Chinstrap penguin with places to go and things to do.

In order to do justice to the trip, I’ll be posting photos and trip reports in the following days.  From what I remember, and from the many offers I’ve had to sell me compromising blackmail photos, a good time was had by all, although I personally may have had more than my fair share.  I hope it was all taken in fun, although I would like to apologize in advance to Oscar/Oskar for any incidents involving tennis racquets or any kindergarten teachers whose furry white boots I may have intimidated.

Details to follow, of course.  ;)

On the local front, even though some of the ski areas are opening in the next day or so, the Wasatch is in dire need of more snow.

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