10 year anniversary. Already!?!

Happy Anniversary Sweetie!

My how time flies.  The last 10 years have been filled with all kinds of fun and adventures.  From family camping trips around the West,  to Grand Canyon rafting, White Rim bicycling, medical missions to Nicaragua, trekking in Nepal, an African safari, Caribbean snorkeling, skiing in Japan, and local kayaking and mountain biking, just to name a few. We are very fortunate, with wonderful, supporting parents, awesome children (who are now having kids themselves), adventurous, fun-loving friends, and good health.  And we are truly blessed to have each other.

Nine years ago we spent our first anniversary back country skiing out side of Bishop.  After successfully climbing and skiing Basin Mountain,

 

 

 we tried to drive a little further up the Buttermilks Road.  The rear of our truck slid off the road in a particularly snowy spot, and despite several hours of effort we were forced to spend the night sleeping in the middle of the road alongside our stuck truck until a tow truck could reach us the next day.

That experience did have some positive aspects though.  We got to meet Glenn Plake, a famous professional skier, who came skiing out of the trees nearby, guiding a group back from Mt. Emerson.  He was the nicest person, and spent quite a while energetically helping us dig and jack and try and pull the truck back on the road.  Most importantly though, I learned what a good sport my wife was, and how she dealt cheerfully with a somewhat unpleasant, and certainly unexpected, event.

We decided that another backcountry trip would be a great way to celebrate our 10th anniversary, albeit without a $600 towing bill as a souvenir.  We headed back to Onion Valley, where the (paved) road currently goes right to the snowline.  We got there Friday afternoon, and headed into the mountains.

An easy start, step out of the van and put on the skis

 We made a bit of a bad decision right off the bat.  The snow bridges over the creek had melted out near the road, so we figured we could stay on the road side of the creek for a ways and cross later.  Not.  As we wound around to the south facing slope below the road, the snow disappeared.

A bit of a scramble back up to the road

 Skis on our pack, a dirty scramble up the slope to the road, and then a short walk to the snow line. 

Whew, back on skis. Donette skis across the buried campground at Onion Valley.  The tracks ahead reveal that someone had fun today.

We skied in to Onion Valley, then climbed further into the mountains.

Donette trying to stay warm in camp.

 The winds had been raging in the mountains for a couple of days, along with a bit of fresh snow Thursday.  Friday night it all calmed down, and we enjoyed a clear, calm, beautiful evening.

Our original idea had been to climb and ski the N. Couloir on University Peak, the rugged 13,600' peak to the right in the picture below.  However,  with the high winds, new snow, and subsequent warm days we didn't feel that was a very safe route, so we set our sights on something a little less risky.

University Peak in the background, our camp is on the toe of the ridge in the center of the photo.

We figured the South facing slopes would be the safest bet, especially if we got an early start and finished before it got too warm.  We spied this 11,700' un-named peaklet a little further in from our camp, and decided it's south face would be a good days fun.

Our Saturday objective

We awoke before dawn, made breakfast, and were off shortly after sunrise.  The day was clear and calm, and our surroundings were spectacular.

 We started out on skis, but switched to boots as the slope steepened. The snow wasn't fully consolidated yet, and our boots broke through the frozen crust on most steps.  We hoped the crust would soften and still support our weight on skis for the descent.

Donette booting up the slope

 We climbed a little more than half-way to the top of the peaklet, and then decided to see how the skiing was.  It was excellent, so we put the skis back on our packs, climbed to the top, and skied the whole thing.

Happy couple on top

We made it back to camp in the early afternoon, and spent the rest of the day relaxing, playing cards, and later, as the winds returned, building wind walls to shelter our tent and kitchen. Since one of the more tedious chores of winter camping is melting snow for water, we found a break in the ice on the lake below and refilled our water containers.

Directly across from our camp was another south facing slope, culminating at a 12,000' high ridge.  We decided this would be a good objective for Sunday morning, as we could ski it, then break camp and return to the van.

The view from our camp.  This looked like a prefect slope to ski Sunday morning.

The winds howled again on Saturday night, and Sunday morning dawned with a wall of clouds to the East.  It was still clear overhead though, so we opted to climb the slope and hope that the sun came out enough to warm it.  We had a more relaxed start, as we knew it would take longer to warm up today.

Starting out under cloudy skies

 We again started on skis, but switched to crampons as the slope steepened.  This slope was much firmer, and our crampons bit confidently into the icy snow.

Booting up the steepest part of the slope

Ray topping out with University Peak in the background.

We were rewarded with fabulous views in all directions. Since the climb had only taken about 2.5 hours, we sat and had a snack and waited for the snow to soften a bit more.

Pano looking North at Dragon Peak

Pano looking south

The skiing was still firm on top when we dropped in, but got better and better as we descended.  As it was only 10:30 when we finished, we looked around for a little something else to ski before we packed up to leave.  We decided to do a lap on the steep East facing hill right above our camp.  The snow was much softer here.  As Donette dropped into a steep section between two cliffs, the wind loaded surface layer slid away.  She was able to ski out of it, but it we decided it was probably best to call it a day.

Our tracks dropping into the small slide

Whew, glad to see her tracks coming out of there!

We quickly broke camp and began the ski back to the car.  It took us only a joyous 25 minutes to ski the 2 miles and 2,000' of fabulous spring snow back to the road.  Much more fun than the 3 hour hike in!

We drove to Lone Pine, had some tacos (highly recommend the Bonanza Mexican restaurant), bought a thick, juicy rib eye steak, and headed for one of our favorite camping spots, the Alabama Hills.  We found a secluded nook, showered, and spent the remainder of afternoon basking in the sun, playing music, and watching the mountains disappear beneath the lowering clouds.  There is just no place like the Eastern side of the Sierra!

Another Roadside Attraction (or two)

When some people think of a roadside attraction, spots like this come to mind:

However, we tend to think of this.  Big mountains close to the road, with a short(ish) approach and long ski descents back to the van.  Birch Mountain fits the bill.

Birch Mountain (13,600') on the left, Mt. Tinehama on the right

With the drought conditions for the last 5 years, we haven't really been able to enjoy one of our traditional rites of spring, the Eastside ski trip. With a near record snowpack this year, we decided we had better get over there and check it out.  We left San Luis Obispo Friday morning.  Our goal was to drive to Big Pine, find the road to the trail head, and ascend a ways of Birch Mountain with our overnight gear.  The trailhead is about 6,400', so a 7,000' ascent to the summit seemed a bit much for a couple 50-somethings who live at sea level to accomplish in a day, so an overnighter seemed like the way to go.  Along the way we were treated to magnificent vistas of snow covered peaks, with carpets of vibrant wildflowers lining the valleys along the roads.  

The end of the road.

 We hit the trail about 3 PM, not sure where we were headed, but just hoping to get a few thousand feet up the mountain.

Geared up and ready to go

So many Eastside trips start with some hiking thru the sagebrush.

And some willow wrangling too.

Finally on some snow!

Great climbing conditions as we rise above the Owen's Valley

Skinning into the setting sun, hoping to find a semi-level spot for our tent

Around 6 o'clock we found a less steep spot at about 9,000, and decided to call it a day.  We hacked out a level platform and set up the tent.  Fortunately, the 40 mph winds we had fought all the way up Hwy 395 finally abated.

Sunset view from the tent.

Saturday morning we rose before dawn, made coffee and oatmeal, and resumed our ascent.  The snow was nice and firm, and the slope not too steep, so we climbed in our skis and ski crampons.

Leaving camp at sunrise

Sunrise glow on Mt. Tinehama

Our tent is way down by the rock bands, the van far, far below.

The climb goes on forever, White Mountains in the background

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Near the top of the East Face the slope steepened considerably, so we switched to boots and crampons.  The summit is still a loooong ways off.

 Donette developed some pretty painful blisters as the climb went on.  We stopped a couple of times to apply moleskin and duct tape, but eventually the pain got too much.  At 12,000' we had to cross a rock, snow-free area, so she decided that was high enough.

Donette airs out her painful feet

I decided to push on in an attempt to reach the summit.  It was already noon, but I thought I might be able to ascend the final snowfield in 1.5 hours. I switched back to skins and set off

Ray sets off across the final push

 The climbing was going well for a while, but then the wind picked back up.  Almost instantly the snow went from soft to frozen.  I struggled on for a few more minutes, but decided it was better to turn around and enjoy some good skiing, versus struggling upward for another 1,000' of crappy skiing.

Ray just below his turnaround point, which was between the two rock bands

Now the fun begins.  The upper slopes were quite challenging, with big waves carved into the snow.  I have never seen a surface quite like it, and the skiing was pretty slow at first. 


After rejoining Donette, the skiing got much better.  A few hundred feet more of the rough, wave ridden surface, and then it smoothed out into fantastic spring corn skiing.

Back at our tent, looking at our descent.

Back at our campsite, we broke down the tent and loaded up our overnight gear.  As we shouldered our now heavier packs, Donette says "Hey, where are my skis?"

Her skis were right next to her poles

She had left them standing next to her poles, but now they were nowhere in sight.  There were, however, a couple of tracks disappearing over the slope below camp.  The skis had silently melted out, flopped over, and took off, without us ever noticing.

A couple of ski tracks disappear over the ridge

 Donette resigned herself to a bit of downhiking, and set off following the tracks.  Luckily, the skis had only gone a hundred yards or so before flipping over and stopping.

Donette tracking her skis

Yay, they are here!

We found a much longer finger of snow to descend, compared to our ascent, and followed it until it disappeared in to the sage.

Following the white ribbon

The snow finally peters out, and it's back to carrying the skis.

 We found an easier route through the willows, and then it was just a short hike back to the car.

An easier route thru the willows this time.

After enjoying the luxury of a hot shower and a cold beer (or two) (we really love the van!), it was time to decide what to do next.  Donette's feet were in pretty bad shape.  Originally we thought we would just stay at the road's end and climb and ski on Mt. Tinehama.  Donette shuddered at the thought of hiking up through the sagebrush again.  We decided to try and find somewhere where we could drive closer to the snow line.  Onion Valley seemed like a good choice, so with the sun setting we headed back down toward 395. 

After a resupply at the market in Big Pine, and dinner at a rest stop along the highway, we finally started up Onion Valley Road in the dark.  We passed a parked snowplow, and then came to the end of the plowed road, well short of Onion Valley itself.  Not really knowing how far short of Onion Valley we were, we parked the van and climbed into bed.

Sunday morning we had a sincere lack of desire for another pre-dawn start.  We finally rolled out of bed to find we were at about 8,000', and right below Independence Peak.

The end of the road, Independence Peak rising right behind us

As other skiers arrived and headed up for their respective tours, we finally got around to breakfast and reorganizing our gear.  The Northeast Couloir of Independence Peak, sometimes called the Banana Chute, was beckoning right behind the van.  We decided it seemed like a good objective, as the base was still in the shadow and wouldn't see the softening effects of the sun for a while, and we were on a relaxed pace.  We finally donned our skis and headed up about 9 am.

Within a few hundred yards we found a snow bridge across the creek, and then it was a direct ascent of the couloir, without a doubt the easiest approach ever.

The creek crossing was much easier here!

It was basically straight up the mountain for a few hours.  Ideal climbing conditions again.

Up the chute we go.

 As we neared the top of the chute the snow conditions changed.  We begin climbing into pockets of wind blown snow that hadn't had time to consolidate into corn snow.  At around noon, and 11,000', the snow was getting too wet and loose for comfort, so we decided to turn around.  Given the state of Donette's feet, we were very happy with getting to the point we did.  Thank goodness for duct tape, and for the fact she is one tough lady!

Donette is all smiles at the thought of no more suffering up hill.

The skiing was a little challenging in the deeper stuff at first, but got better and better as we descended.

And even more smiles on the downhill

Spring conditions at their best

More grins at the end of a perfect morning

Talk about skiing right to the car!

A good mornings work.

Donette's feet were definitely done with ski boots for the weekend.  We decided to head for Lone Pine, working our way a bit closer to home, and camp up near Tuttle Creek.  We thought we might be able to hike in towards the ashram in sandals, depending in the snow line.  We had an easy drive up the dirt road to the end, but when we stepped out to set up camp we were immediately swarmed by clouds of mosquitoes.  Already?!?  We weren't expecting that!  We opted to retreat back down the mountain and camp in the Alabama Hills instead.  We found a great spot right off the road, and although there were still a few bugs, it was much better.

We enjoyed a very leisurely start to our Monday morning, with a cup of coffee, then some scrambling around the rocks near camp, and finally a hearty brunch for the long drive home.