Znow on Granite Mountain

Decided yesterday to take the dogs hiking up in the snow. Picked the ONLY rainy day - but in retrospect also the perfect day!

Granite Mountain is a good training hike. About 3,600 vertical in just over 4 miles. On a hot summer day, it can be a smelter! Once you exit the forest at about 4,000 feet, you are exposed to the scorching sun. If hiking with dogs, there is a stretch here that has no or little water in the summer - and it is extremely hot. Caution is advised. Your pouch will suffer.

But today we were in lucky. It rained when we left Seattle, it was overcast at the trailhead and only a few cars. The air was lukewarm and full of refreshing humidity. Perfect day for a quick hike up. Shouldn't take more than two hours!

Dogs knew what was coming and happy to get out of the car. As soon as we started, they sped up the trail, but never further than that they always kept an eye on us. Guarding instinct is deeply rooted! A fair amount of water in the small streams along the trail indicated that there should be a fair amount on snow higher up.

Wife got sort of winded after about 40 minutes or so. Started talking about not making it!? I managed to move the pit stop until we were out of the forest and at 4,300 feet. Everyone got fed and watered. Convinced wife that we just had to make it to 5,000 feet before ANY discussions about turning around. The weather was really perfect, both for humans and dogs, but at 4,600 feet, just after the first little snow field (=very happy dogs), the sky opened up. A real squall with no clearing in sight. I trotted on, eager to get as far as possible. When we hit 5,000, it sort of just stopped, and the sun came out. I was soaked, but wife pointed out that "there's the summit" (she been there once before) - a good sign. Since the weather was clearing, and her spirits better, I convinced her to go "all the way". Would also allow for the dogs to get a good run in the larger snow fields on the Northern side of the summit ridge.

We spent about an hour on the summit munching down and lightening our backpacks. Saw a few marmots on the way down, always at a distance. 20 minutes fro mthe car, the sky opened up again and down at the parking lot, both dogs were very eager to both get out of the rain and into a "soft spot" to take a long snooze! All in all, in a slow poke pace it took as about 2h40m to reach the top. All together about 5 hours out in the "wild".

A truly good day in the mountains. Check out some of the pictures here below.

BTW, there was a traffic accident in the West bound lanes at I-90. Accident must have happened just about 30 minutes before we reached the trail head (State Patrol wooshed by us). A tractor trailer with a construction crane seemed to have "sort of" taken aim at a rock wall on the north side of the freeway. That happens...
But, was there really a need to keep the freeway blocked off during this entire time? State Patrol had blocked it down to just one lane before we got there, and that blockage was still in effect when we got off the mountain. Combined, that was much longer than 6 hours, choking the only true East-West route through the mountains.
All for a dinky little accident (it was not even reported on the news - even though we could see a news chopper from the summit).

(and yes, it is rain, heavy rain, you can see in the first image - click on it)

Fat, laZy Americans...

Well, that is a provoking title, isn't it?

In an article in today's edition of the Seattle Times, one can read:
"One-third of Washington residents say they traveled exclusively by car to get from one place to the other last year, NEVER walking, biking or using public transportation."

Wow! We live in a region of amazing beauty, where outdoor activities - and possibilities - are everywhere. if this study is any indication, many do not even bother to WALK to the local bar or the java hut (Starbucks) down the street.

People, walking and biking is good for you as well as for the nation. Try it out, at least once. But first make sure you can handle it, cause there's a real chance you might like it!

Ski Zeason have come and gone...

OK, many weeks have passed since anything was written in this space. Time for a short update, and also an attempt at more regular entries. With the great snow we've gotten up in the Cascades, there has been a few wonderful days up at Stevens Pass. Actually, the very first skiing in a few years. First the winters were crabby, then it was too much traveling (for work) and the finally, this winter, SNOW. Plenty of it. Over the past 35 years, I've had many great days skiing. Most memorable and on the "top 10" are probably the three years I spent in the French Alps. Living in Tignes Le Val Claret (http://www.espacekilly.com), never being further away from a slope than 2 minutes, 24/7, was simply the best. I have no idea of how many days of skiing I actually got in during those years, but it was more than I managed since. At the same time, I sometimes wonder how it came to that I did survive. Back in those days, there was little talk about the danger of avalanches, rock falls, getting lost in a white out, etc. Skiing was simply about finding "great lines" down the mountain. You followed the "locals" a few times, and when you felt comfortable, you went on your own - totally disregarding the fact that changes in snow conditions voided what little you learnt over the previous days. But, we did so much "stuff", extreme skiing of the days - with out ANY safety equipment (beacon, probe, shovel) and many times one even went alone - the 3-4 hour lunch break was precious and dragging people around (visiting tourists) had to wait until a you had a full day off. At lunch you wanted to get in maximum vertical!I specifically remember one time in the spring of 1983. I had taken the cable car up to La Grande Motte, did a few warm-up runs on one of my favorite slopes, a long and wide empty dance floor served only by two double chairs. It was exposed on top of the glacier, a bit to the side, and few people bothered with it (probably considered a bore due to its location). It resulted in short lines and A LOT of skiing - a hidden gem in plain view!Anyway, up to the summit again, crossing over the glacier (yes, alone) and then up to the summit of "Dome du Pramecou". It is a mild mountain on its south side, but with a wonderfully steep north face where all wind driven snow was dumped (deep powder as late as May...). In order to get there, you had to traverse the glacier, aptly named "mer de glace" (sea of ice), hike up to the summit and I think all that labor kept many away. The run down was as great as ever, soft snow, but no Utah powder (which I did not know at the time, but you just don't find that in the Alps). From the bottom of Pramecou's north face, one can ski down a couloir, or take another small hike up to the summit of a small peak with a name I no longer recall, but it can end up in a viciously steep and narrow couloir run back to the village. From up there, EVERYONE could see you - if they looked up that is... But, this day I was lazy and took the couloir down towards the valley where the cable was located (cable car is long gone and replaced by an UNDERGROUND tram that ferries skiers up the mountain). The couloir was as good as it could be after having been skied w/o any new snow for a couple of days. It was always in the shade and the snow was cold any nice. This steep and narrow chute, was accessible via a long traverse and hence frequent by quite a few on a daily basis. Even so, it rarely turned to ice until very late spring. Out of the couloir, I cut out to the left (north), and traversed a the shaded wide open East face of the "unnamed mountain" in order not to have to take the slope back down to the cable car. I've done this many times. You keep altitude and get a decent run in the final fall line down towards the village.
Tired after only three great descents in one? You can always rest on the way back up again. I did so, sitting in one of the cable cars going back up, looking to the west to see if I can see my tracks in the dark shadow of the unnamed peak. To my amazement (and later horror), the entire side of the mountain is now a debris field after an avalanche. It must have happened when I was waiting in line to get up again. Had I been 10 minutes or so (=one more run on top of the glacier) , I would not have been sitting here today at all. I'd probably be one of the small "snow boulders" strewn across the mountain side. Next day I did take a look at these small snow boulders, they were about the size of a VW Microbus and just as hard. It would have hurt, really bad, to be there when they came down from above... I'm not religious, but I do believe in fate and the importance of having impeccable timing...
Oh well, just another day of skiing in the wild 80ies. When there really were no rules!

I return to Tignes summer of 1986. I am greeted with the sad news that M. Perinet (my landlord) and "George" (the local butcher) have died in a climbing accident on the same glacier. "Mer de glace" ends just south of Val Claret with the "ice fall", or "le langue du glacier". It is a popular ice climbing spot in the late summers when the real ice actually gets some exposure. What I hear is that the glacier "calved" and they were crushed under the falling ice. Took many days before their bodies could be recovered. Looking back, it could just as well had been me...