Spring skiing

About three weeks ago Yin (a coworker) convinced me to try backcountry skiing. We went to Turnagain Pass, about 60 miles south of Anchorage, in the Kenai Peninsula. The usual approach to backcountry skiing is to attach a pair of "skins" to the skis. These surfaces prevent backwards movement. Coupled with special bindings, which release the heel, you can effortlessly slide up the mountain. I don't have skins or AT bindings. They're spendy. I chose the harder route instead: borrowing snowshoes and hiking up, skis and boots dangling from my backpack. Neither of us had avalanche beacons/shovels, another essential of backcountry ski trips. Needless to say, we stayed clear of any potential avalanche chutes.

Near the summit I let Yin take the lead by some distance - I didn't want him to take me down in case he slid, meaning I didn't know exactly how much longer before we reached the summit. And then there it was, I was now walking on the ridge of the peak. This was probably one of the highlights of my life so far. Walking on the summit spine is an unbelievably scary feeling. There's nothing I could do at this point except concentrate on every single move. A misstep and I would have slid 2500 feet, probably encouraging avalanches along the way.

Even though the peak is probably not more than 2500/3000 feet one still feels on top of the world. This only encouraged me to take up mountaineering. I cannot wait till next winter.












This is as far as we got. Well, I actually went a little bit further, but not up that second summit. As inviting as it looks, the trail to the top sits on overhanging cornices. That's basically asking for it.

Oh, and did I mention the skiing down part? True, you do climb all day for about 7 minutes of ski time, but there's just no words that describe skiing down a naked mountain.

I love Alaska.