A Little To The Left

What a great story. As Frank Burns said, "it's nice to be nice to the nice." I have worked in tourism for a long time and can assure you that nice people get way better service than the dickheads.

A friend of mine has guided heli-skiers at CMH for many years. Needless to say, they get some very affluent clients and he does OK with tips. One client gave him a bottle of wine worth $700, so he saved it for a special occasion. That was when a dickhead was showing off his $100 bottle of wine and told my buddy that it was too good to share with staff. So he went to his room, got the spendy bottle, invited one of the kitchen staff to the table and shared it with her. What goes around comes around.

Alta had it's soft closing for the season, which is when many of the employees are let go of their jobs for the winter season. The Last day of the season is a bitter-sweet party including, but not limited too; booze, nudity, and questionable skiing stunts. (often in combination). High noon kicked off the First Last Annual Frank Work Classic ski competition, followed partying on top of Alf's High Rustler, known as High Boy.

Within seasonal life, you meet many great people. Some of them stay for another year or two, some become lifers. Wherever you fall on the spectrum, it's difficult knowing that you very well may never see these people again in your life. When you live, work, and play with the same group of sixty people for six months, a family-like bond is grown. On our move out day, hugs are exchanged as some heads towards their new jobs, while many others are headed South to enjoy one of the best parts of seasonal life - the extended funemployment tour between jobs.

I spent a day in Salt Lake doing some chores for a friend in exchange for gear storage at her place in Sandy. The next day I met up with Tom and we headed to a popular climbing destination in Central Utah called Maple Canyon. Oddly enough, Tom and I don’t really climb, but many of our friends do, and most of them headed down that way.

While the others were out climbing, Tom and I went for a hike headed towards the Middle Fork trail, which the trail map showed as a seven mile loop travelling past an arch, connecting across the plateau, towards the right fork trail.

(Un)fortunately, Neither of us had read the signs too closely and just assumed we were going the right way. If there’s nowhere to be, is it really getting lost? We ended up walking down the left fork trail. After an hour and a half had passed, and we were supposed to see an arch at 0.7 miles, I figured something was up. Without having planned to visit the area, I didn’t have a map other than a photo of the map from the trailhead. A bit of consulting lead us to realize we were in the wrong (?) place.
 
Left Fork Trail



View of the Conglomerate walls from Camp. The rock must’ve been glacial or from a river bed, as it is all very round. Holding onto the holds is like grabbing onto a bald head.


The following morning, we got out early to check out the true Middle Fork to Left Fork route.



On the way down, we passed “The Pipeline”, a massive cave that has many big climbing routes. Look at all those fixed draws!


Tom and I left the rest of the crew behind to meet up with Jake in Moab and get back on our bikes. Half way through our drive, we were stopped at a gas station and some guy yelled to my friend from his truck, saying he was leaking gas. We checked it out and drove straight to a mechanic. The local guy in town pointed us to the Ford dealership, saying that they might have more time even though it was a Subaru.

The Mechanic said that the filler neck was leaking, and they could have one from a junk yard I town by the end of the day. He also offered the fact that we could probably just drive it down, and not fill it up above half and we’d probably be fine. He said his wife’s car was life that for the better part of a year!

We didn’t really want to wait in a town in the middle of nowhere, so I took a look at the part wondering how difficult it would be to swap out. If it was easy enough, we could go to the yard and pull the part ourselves and save some time.
I thought about it and made a few calls. The Napa in Moab said the closest one they could get was in Ohio and would take up to a week. I decided to check elsewhere, and tried O’Rielley. They said they had one in Salt Lake and it would be there by morning. Score. A bit sketchy, but we carried on our way to Moab.

This was the first time I had driven I-70 west of Green River, UT. Boy was it beautiful. You’d drive it between Arches and Zion.



Shout out to...






Still banking on our mission, we called Jake and let him know we were back on our way to and would meet him at the Navajo Rocks at six. This was the same trail system that Jake and I had rode back in the fall, but we hit the other side of the street and rode the rest of the trails we hadn’t hit last time.
 
This week was National Parks week, so every campsite in town was full. Jake was kind enough to offer us some floor space in his Airstream. We kindly took him up on the offer and headed out early in the morning to get the part for Tom’s car.

The campground didn’t seem to be the best place for shade-tree mechanic work, so I searched out contact info for a friend’s roommate in town. Barre wasn’t living there anymore, but he got us in contact with Steve, the only current resident of the establishment. Steve, along with his roommates, are former river guides now in their late fifties who live in a trailer on the outskirts of town. There are rafts, cars, RV, carpets, refrigerators, vending machines, and tools. Seemed like a perfect spot for a janky mechanic project.

By the heat of midday the part was in, the car was running, and our friends were anxious to get on their bikes, too. We went to the Sovereign Singletrack trails and took it for a spin. The map showed is that it would be difficult in spots, which seemed less-than-ideal but they were game. Fortunately with mountain biking, you can always (usually) walk your bike in the tough spots. There was a lot of that. We got our bikes ready and checked out the map to see what we wanted to ride. As we were doing so, a couple guys braaaped up on their dirt bikes to check out the map. He asked us where we were riding, and told us that the trails were blown out from the dirt bikes and we’d have way more fun across the road at the Navajo Rocks trails. He also kindly informed us we were starting in the “wrong spot.” Peace out, douche.

We set out up the road looking for a black diamond singletrack trail. About a quarter mile in, we saw it on our left with an arrow labeled “To Sovereign Trail”. Nailed it. From there, the trail climbed up a dried sandstone riverbed to the 4x4 road up on the top of the next mesa.



The climbs were steep, technical, and borderline impossible. They often led to hike-a-bike but were rewarded with undulating singletrack across the top of the slick rock and ended in a fun downhill. You could tell that the trail were shared use with dirt bikes as the rocks had craters behind them and some of the turns were rutted, but that’s what technical mtb is all about. Anyone can ride a smooth groomed trail, but part of the appeal of techy mtb is the line scoping, move making, process and quickly using them to maneuver the bike. With that being said, this was definitely not the place to take some rookies for their first ride. It was, however, fkna beautiful.



Took a quick stop on Mars


It was pretty neat.




A few more groups of wandering Alta Hippies were heading to Moab (Alta South) and wanted to meet up and party. We noticed on the way in that there were tons of RVs tucked in the alluvials coming down from the mesa. Not the numbered, pay at the gate kind, either. Open, BLM land. It was protected from the wind and boasted great views of the La Sal mountains. We decided to call it home for the night, left a car there, and headed into town to pick up some groceries, gear, cars, and meet with friends. We made it back just before sunset and started up on dinner.

On the way back into town, we saw Steve when we went to pick up Ben’s truck from his driveway. He came running out, and asked us if we were going to stay. We weren’t really sure that it was an option at the time, but he made it obvious that we were more-than-welcome. I warned him that there would be at least ten of us and maybe seven cars. He pointed to the bucket loaded in his driveway and said “If we don’t have room, we can make some.”





Hippy Camp


With an attempt at an early start, we were finishing breakfast by ten and heading into town to meet the rest of the crew that was demoing bikes. The group decision was to ride the Slickrock trail, a famous trail that covers red Slick rock terrain around the rim above the town of Moab and the Colorado River. Most people describe Slickrock as a hard technical ride, but I would hardly call it that. It’s type two fun. The climbs are steep, the descents are steep, and the transitions are abrupt. The views, however, and the uniqueness of the rock type, are second-to-none.







After the trail, we hit the pizza shop next to the demo shop (genius location, BTW), and carried that on to the Moab Brewery, which was a few more doors down (also genius).

I ducked out early and headed to Steve’s to warn him what was coming. He persisted that we were all welcome and offered me half of a prime rib. Ok I felt welcome.

We drank around the fire after eating some more dinner and discussed the plans for the next day. I had an opportunity to ski the La Sals with the Avalanche Director who was in my Wilderness First Responder class. I blew that and had been lusting them ever since. We made foggy plans to get out and ski them early the next morning. The foggy plans led to a foggy lacking motivation. It was getting hot, the sun was strong, and our window of opportunity shrank. I panicked and lit a fire under the rest of the crew’s asses, and we all got into the right gear to party on up to the mountain.

Another Alta friend who had joined us the night before had been skiing up in the area and said he could show us where to go. Many of us had dreams of skiing off of Mount Tukuhnikivatz, a 12,480’ prominent peak on the southern end of the mountains. That didn’t happen, but we got to look at it! Instead, he said the destination was Pre-Laurel Peak and we all followed him to the trailhead.



Tuk and Tuk-no



Natalie in Awe




fkna, we like it here.



Buncha Nerds




Ben



Ben & Stephen




Yurts





The rest of the Nerds went down to Indian Creek to "climb" (read: drink and sit inside because the weather sucked), so I met up with Jake and a new crew from Lake Placid. Those guys were rad, and knew how to party!

We all camped out of town and moved towards Fruita in the morning.



The La Sals from Castle Valley



Fruita Sunsets were nice.




A handful of riders on "Joe's" - wish this was a bit better focused. Whoops.



Turns out the North Fruita Desert trail system rode even better than the sunset looked. This place is Steve Ovitt's dream - perfect pitch and really fun terrain to build into. Unfortunately no pics of the riding.

mmm, nighttime.



We got a bit rained out in the Morning, but still went for a short ride before I took off. Hopefully I can spend a lot more time at this place.

Back to SLC for the mean time - headed to the Ruby Mountains in a bit for installment II of the Funemployment Tour 2k16.

Stunning photos, as usual, but maybe even better than usual.  Read in full 2nite.

Wow. National Geographic quality..  I used to rep a few of the Nat Geo people too - so, YES, I know what I am saying.

Stunning photos and great story.

thanks for that lil getaway... hi ho, hi ho

Ted,
You have gotten GD good with that camera - a great eye. If you could monetize that some how, although I am not sure how. I think the tent picture would be sellable to Marmot. You may not care and I don't blame you if you don't, but those are some great pics.

YES! You are a ski bum! Great photos.

Thanks for this report. Looks like a lot of fun. Enjoy it

I had pretty much the entire rest of the travel season written up and I deleted the file. Whoops. I gotta stop doing that.

Anywho.. I'll start it off in pieces. Better for people with a shorter attention span, too.

4/28 Terminal Cancer Couloir, Ruby Mountain, NV.

        The Ruby Mountains are located outside of the town of Ruby in Northeastern Nevada. There are no ski resorts in the range, but there is a heli ski operation that runs out of Elko. The range is known to the ski world mostly for a single 2200 ft couloir called Terminal Cancer. It’s not an overly steep line – only topping out around 40°, but the tight, continuous fall line is was draws people in.


 
        The line is located just off of Lamoille Canyon Road, which is unmaintained during the winter. I heard that the snow line was above the base of the couloir so it would be roadside access. I checked out a couple maps and logged the GPS coordinates in case poor visibility was an issue. I remember seeing that there was a creek between the road and the base of the couloir, but it never occurred to me until we got there the night before that we would need a way to get across. For the whole road trip, I had my dry suit in the car and hated that it was there. I kept thinking I should have left it in Salt Lake (or NY), because I didn’t have any plans to use it and lugging it around in the packed car was unnecessary wear for how expensive the thing was. It finally hit me just before I went to sleep that I could use it to cross any keep dry.
 
        Early the next morning we woke up to a few inches of wet new snow. I went back to sleep and woke up and it had all melted. Ben and I whipped up a small breakfast and headed back up the canyon toward the line. There was increasingly more snow on the road as we climbed in elevation with only one set of tracks in front of us. That set of tracks belonged to a Salt Lake City split boarder who also had his eye on the line.



        We got to the creek, I crossed first, took off the suit, strapped it up into a ball, and threw it back across to Ben. He put it on and we both made it across the creek dry.



        We put on the ski boots and headed through the thicket of aspen growing in the slide runout zone. From the other side of the bush the slope increased and funneled us to a thin snow bridge over meltwater and into the base of the couloir.



 There was probably 4” of some of the mankiest snow I have ever skied. The lower third of the line had a massive pile of wet debris which we navigated into an apron that opens up from the skier’s right side of the chute.



        As the apron directed back into the chute, we followed the lead of the split boarder in front of us and transitioned from skins to boot packing for the second half of the ascent. As we rose in elevation, the snow got a bit drier but was stacked upside down from the new snow blowing in from atop the walls of the couloir.


 
        A couple hundred feet from the top we heard someone ahead of us call “drop”. Ben and I tucked into an alcove and yelled back “all clear!” – A few mins later the split boarder crested a roller and send a sluff out in front of him. As he got closer, he said that the top few inches wanted to run. Duh, it just ran right by us.



        As we topped out the winds started to pick up a bit more so we transitions and ate quickly. The winds also loaded my lens with snow and I didn’t have anything to clean it off with. Rad.
 
        I dropped in first, went a hundred feet or so, and tucked out into a safe spot to grab some shots of Ben.



        The snow was punchy, dense, and I was practically on ski blades since I left my fat touring skis in Salt Lake. Who knew it would still be snowing in April, anyways… Good thing I had been practicing on my powder ski blading with Mario, otherwise I probably would’ve had a much worse time getting down. As we got to the bottom, the snow got so heavy that I was almost afraid to turn. I was sidestepping down and straight lining through trees to stop at the other end. Ben crossed the creek first, threw the dry suit back to me, and we headed back to the car.

        We geared down and headed back down the canyon to find a place to cook up a meal. The driveway of a ranch was still boasting sunlight and a beautiful view. The ranchers driving in and out looked confused but never bothered us.



        We camped again in the picnic area and split in the morning as I headed north to Enterprise to find a storage unit and Ben headed south towards LA to visit some old college friends.

Awesome. Thanks for the report. I'm glad somebody is still getting after it - very impressive

Brownski wrote

Awesome. Thanks for the report. I'm glad somebody is still getting after it - very impressive

Whooops I thought there was a date in the tile. This is from 4/28. I did just have a friend ask if I want to ski hood on my week off... we'll see!

Some great shots, love this one...

tBatt wrote

Great gripping tale. 40 degrees seems like plenty in a tight couloir with manky snow.

Any info on how the couloir was named?

What you up to now T? Hope to see you in that short window in the fall.

Diggin it!

Ha. I figured if wasn't today; guess I was hoping it was a little more recent

Harvey wrote

Great gripping tale. 40 degrees seems like plenty in a tight couloir with manky snow.

Any info on how the couloir was named?

What you up to now T? Hope to see you in that short window in the fall.

Hey, thanks! No idea about how it got named.

I'm working as a carpenter on a lodge in a wilderness in Eastern Oregon. Six days a week for three weeks, then they fly you out for a week off and fly you back in on Monday morning. Taking my car to travel around for my weeks off and have to be home for a wedding in September, so I'm coming home for two weeks. Gonna be busy, but I'm hoping to spend a lot of time in the North Country.

Better late than Never?

Text, maybe some pics later.

Enterprise – Hurricane Creek (4/30)
        I asked my buddy who got me my summer job where to camp, and he told me to head to the Hurricane Creek Trailhead. There was a small campground along the creek with a bathroom - a car camping unicorn. I cooked dinner and went to bed with the plan to head up the drainage in the morning.
       
The trail follows the river up into the tallest mountains of the Eagle Cap Wilderness. It was twelve miles into lakes basin – the most popular destination in the Wallowas. I didn’t have ambition for a big day as I had a plan on summiting Mount Hood in the near future.
       
The first part of the evergreen trail reminded me much of the East, only oddly thinner. A couple years ago there was a massive fire that swept up the drainage, taking out much of the underbrush.



Farther up, the trail opened to big meadows between the river and the tall granite mountains.



The pitch increased over the last half mile of trail where it switch backed to the top of a deep gorge of cascades.



At the top of the gorge was a confluence of a small creek, coming down from an area known as Slick Rock. I called it a day here and followed the creek back to my car.





       

Don't know why I didn't comment on this the first time I saw it; I must have been at work. I remember admiring your set up in the back of your car. You made great use of your limited space there. Great job, man.

Brownski wrote

Don't know why I didn't comment on this the first time I saw it; I must have been at work. I remember admiring your set up in the back of your car. You made great use of your limited space there. Great job, man.

Hey, thanks! It's tight, but it works. Doesn't pull in the ladies too well, though.

It's been a hell of a Summer. I left off at my first visit to the Wallowa’s.. Left there, biked Post Canyon in Hood River, Summited Mt Hood with Skis, Went to Bend for some solo biking, back to Hood River, Back to Bend, Up to Mt St. Helens to ski for Mother’s Day, then off to the woods to give my hand as a carpenter.




















































The job was to build a job in the Eagle Cap Wilderness of the Wallowa Mountains in Eastern Oregon. I made some new friends, a lot of money, spent a lot of money, learns a whole lot and explored a lot of the country that I wouldn’t have seen otherwise due to the three week on, one week off schedule.

My first week off was an awesome logistical nightmare of rafting the Middle and Main Forks of the Salmon River (read – two all nighters, one driving to the wrong put in and one hitchhiking across Idaho.)













Next week off was spent biking around the PNW and BC – Leavenworth, WA; Squamish, BC; Whistler, BC; Bellingham, WA; and Sandy, OR. Yahoo!













Third week off was a lot of driving with the family to check out the state and a 45 mile, 3 day backpacking trip from town into the lodge I was working at.























I worked a six week stint and went home for two weeks for my brother’s wedding and a lot of time up in the ADKs.
My last week off took me out of weeks of rain into the beautiful weather of the American Southwest to ride bike in SLC, Moab, and Crested Butte.















Back to a muddy four weeks of work, a long weekend off, and starting work again in Alta.

A very small portion of an apocalypse Cache my buddies found in a cave
 


The season started slowly with bare ground until almost Thanksgiving when Ullr finally decided to turn on the atmospheric fire hose. Currently a 45” base with 2-3” QPF on the way by tomorrow night. Warm temps with most of the precip, but it’ll be good for base building! The lifts closed due to lightning today, so I was able to get the second lift opening of the day after I was out of my shift at 1PM.













More to come when I stop being lazy and bring out the camera. We have a crew of about 8 kids from Gore than many of you would recognize.

Good for you man

You get a total A++ for living life  do it for as long as you can

Awesome pics...always like following your post