Washington Pass - Early Season skiing - October 25th, 2001.

A week of storms had pummelled the Cascades, and the temperatures had remained below freezing at Washington Pass, and it seemed to have received the most snow! Time for a day off work to take advantage of it.

We left the I-5 corridor in moderately heavy rain, and arrived a couple of hours later to light snow flurries at the pass. The two or so feet of snow by the roadside was dry and fluffy. The trees for the past 10 miles had been covered in fresh snow - a good sign. As we were getting ready, the clouds began to part, and we were treated to views of Liberty Bell, plastered with snow.

We followed a track in the snow up the Blue Lake trail. Looks like someone had been here on skis yesterday. There wasn't enough snow in the dense forest to just head straight up, so we had to actually follow the trail. This trail is worse than the Cascade Pass trail, in terms of ridiculously low-gradient switchbacks. We zigged and zagged for a long time, until we came to semi-open slopes below the headwall that leads up into the basin below the Liberty Bell spires.

Ed ascends our uphill track, with Maya several yards in front. This is October 25??

The trail continued straight ahead, over towards Blue Lake, which wasn't where we wanted to go. Reluctantly, we left the established track, and began breaking our own trail. It was amazingly difficult! The 3 foot snowpack was totally unconsolidated - dry, but so so deep. Were Ed's dogs going to be able to make it?

I broke trail and aimed for denser trees - hopefully, there would be less snow. It was a bit better, but still an incredible amount of work. Maya was able to keep up with us, but Zack, Ed's other dog, had been left far behind.

Liberty Bell

We wound our way up around a cliffy outcrop, into a more open area. I was so psyched to ski the powder, and Ed was growing increasingly worried about Zack, whom we hadn't seen in an hour, that we decided to stop here for the first run. As we were getting ready, and scoping out a descent line, Zack appeared below, struggling his way up. The distance from his master, and subsequent loneliness, had finally overwhelmed his inability to paw his way up the deep snow.

The Early Winter Spires

I was growing increasingly impatient - I HAD TO SKI POWDER! So I headed down our steep-looking line to check it out. The snow was sweet, and it looked like it would go. Ed finally arrived with the dogs, and I slid down through some dense shrubs, jumped into the open chute and laid fresh tracks down the 35 degree slope of improbably dry powder. Like floating or flying, effortless, snow flying up. Skiing wouldn't be skiing without powder. After many yelps of joy, I stopped at the flats below, and waited for Ed, who did much the same.

Powderiffic

We continued down through little larch shrubs - supreme. We intersected our track and climbed back up.

Zack making some tracks.

Did it again.

Me gettin' some powder action (Ed's track in the foreground, and our two tracks from the previous run in the midground. Snow slough behind me). photo by Ed Praitis

and again.

Larch glades, signed by me.

For the final descent of the day, we headed down skier's right of our cliffy out-cropping. The angle was just a little too laid back for the deepness of the snow, so the skiing wasn't quite as ecstatic. We approached the headwall above the forest, and ended up in a narrow gully. I soon left this for the dense trees on the side. The angle steepened, but the snow was growing heavier and slower, which meant it was easy to ski amongst the tight little trees - sweet! Ed was still stuck in the bouldery stream gully, because Zack had gone down it, and wouldn't be able to climb back out. I hopped back in the narrow gully a ways below them where it got smoother, and poached the fresh tracks and continued on gentler powder slopes back to the Blue Lake trail.

Shreddin' Ed

Then it was back along the trail, which was just the right angle for a while (unless you had forgotten to wax your skis, like Ed), but then leveled to an insane amount of flatness, especially for a trail that only needs to go up!

My waxed skis got me back to the trailhead a good ten minutes before Ed, where I was surrounded by a posse of aggressive Whiskey Jacks looking for food. They didn't get any however. Unfortunately, my retaliatory snowball attacks on them failed too.