Can I ski with you?

[LeeLau]

Jake,

Thanks for putting up this. I've got to admit i saw Smithers in a snowdrought and after Hbay was wind-phucked. you've given me some insight into why so many of you in smithers/telkwa area love the place and the terrain.

Also a good reality check for Shames. Have to admit I hit Terrace in pretty much perfect conditions and missed the graybeard rainy poo days.

Anyway you write well and it was a super interesting read. Really really like the Currie story.

[LeeLau]

Where is this in N joffre Creek? Like in relation to cassiope/saxifrage? or is on the E side?

Bougie and I had scoped our line the day before and wanted to get after it while the snow and weather held. From below, about half way back North Joffre Creek, we could see the whole run top to bottom. But we both knew that by the time we got to the top it would not be so simple. From below we could see a nice clean chute coming in from the ridge top. The chute ran for about 1000 feet and then opened onto a broad open area that ran for another 1000 feet. Below that the pitch rolled over very steep for the last 1500 feet to the valley bottom. On this lower pitch there was one clean line that made three huge zigzag turns across the cliff strewn face with each slash running about 400 feet across the face while dropping 300 feet. We knew that from above it would all look the same so we picked some tree features to aim for the next day.

[carpathian]

^^^ About half way back the drainage on the left. Go just beyond the valley up to Cass and Sax but before the bench at back of Joffre to look up the line. To get in the line we climbed up drainage towards Cass but stayed climbers right up onto ridge then dropped back in north face into Joffre... does that makes sense?

[LeeLau]

I think so. You confused me a bit (Im easily confused) when you said "Joffre" but i think you mean N Joffre Creek? It sounds like a N face line running a bit NNE off the ridge coming of CAss? Its lookers left of the Sax-Cass col as you're climbing up towards that little lake just E of Cassiope? I've got a picture I'll dig up/ That's awesome to know its been skied - i took shots up there one year spring touring and saw it and its beautiful line

[carpathian]

Sorry... yeah, you end up in bottom of N Joffre creek right before the last steep pitch in the back.

[carpathian]

You have to prepare the platform of huge rounds with brute strength. You collect dry branches and kindling with care. You douse the pile with a gasoline and oil mixture and then flick the lighter with a choreographed leap away as flames reach for your face. But that was not always enough to keep the fire going. It was –38 outside and we were trying to burn green frozen pine trees that were infected by the pine beetle.

7AM. Felt like outer space 3 feet from fire:


An hour and a half south west of Grande Prairie, Alberta the land is mostly flat with gentle contours. The area is laced with a huge network of geo seismic and oil industry operations with 100’s of kilometers of roads branching off the Two Lakes Mainline. The road is all business and by 6am there was a steady convoy of four door work trucks and enormous oversized big rigs hauling large pieces of machinery to various job sites.

I was working with Lindell and we would usually ride in silence crammed in the back seat of a truck trying to savor any last moments of shuteye before being cast out into the hostile environment in our never ending mission to search out and destroy infected pine trees.

Our methods were both high tech and primitive. Coordinates are punched into a GPS and we troop through the bush carrying chainsaws and gas and backpacks. We were paid the same no matter what size of tree, so it was always exciting to come to the next site. Sometimes you had small ‘pecker poles’ or sometimes huge ‘pumpkins’. Sometimes the trees were brown and burned easily. More time then not it seemed, the trees were green and despite any technologic advantages, it came down to creating fire. Even with gasoline, coaxing frozen green trees to burn can be difficult and nothing could beat patience and practice.



Our daily battle was to kill the pine beetle as part of an un-winnable war against the tide of nature if not global environmental change. The pine beetle had already devastated BC and many people hoped and prayed that the beetle epidemic would not jump the Rockies and carry east to Alberta and the rest of Canada beyond. The pine is a crop tree and forestry is a way of life for many Canadians.

The approved method of pest management is commonly known ‘fall and burn’. Crews of 2 or 3 will go into the woods and locate groups of trees in groups from 1-50 trees or more. The faller cuts the tree down and along with the ‘chucker’, they buck the tree to manageable pieces and build enough bonfires to burn the trees to nothing. Some of the pumpkins required 3 fires per tree while some sites with pecker poles had one fire per 20 trees.

When it comes down to it, it is about the fire. There is nothing worse then going around doing kick-ins the next morning and coming across a blackened husk of a log pile, 90% unburned, under 6 inches of new snow. If you did not stack your platform properly in the first place, the wood would not fall in on itself thus, continue burning. On the contrary, if the wood was too closely stacked, it would not allow enough oxygen to circulate and you would lose heat and be left with a smoldering smoke show. A fine balance that sometimes could be achieved with a huff and puff of breath here and a kick there.

Whoomp! The tree crashes through the upper canopy and lies still in 3 feet of snow. The tree is 2 foot diameter at the butt and barely tapers until the trunk splits into 2 smaller trees for the remaining 30 feet of vertical tree now flat on the ground. As a bucker/chucker you become intimate with each and every pound of solid wood transported to the flames. It reminds me of tree planting as far as production work goes, never stop moving, always something to do, wood to move. My biceps have grown over the weeks and my back has become strong from hours of what Wikipedia would call ‘back breaking labor.’ But you want the labor because more trees equal more money.



The thrill of the hunt, the carnage, the fires… We would have up to 20 fires in some larger sites and it would feel apocalyptic. Red rays of sun pushing through the smoke… I hold my breath and lean into the flames and heat to heave another wet frozen hunk of wood onto the pile. When it finally did warm up towards the end of our 6 week stint, the snow started to stick to the fallen trees, further resisting your attempts to burn the log to nothing.

One morning on the radio they announced that 90% of the pine beetle had been killed naturally by the stretch of –40 we had early on in the season. We joked that maybe we could go home now just as the announcer said that 97.5% need to be killed in order to stop the epidemic. It looks like we might be working in Saskatchewan next year.

[LeeLau]

jake - judging from the red menace all over the Cariboo-chilcotin that i saw just this past week you'll have work for the rest of your life.

Thx for the headsup on the line. I don't know if you got good weather to see the area you skied into so here's some shots for you of what you skied. Didn't have any good pics of mine so pinched them from bivouac.

[carpathian]

^^^ It was the 2nd ridge back on the far lower left, little cleft leading into that scree field with dots of snow around it. The scree field was the good, middle section of line.

Not that pencil of snow you are thinking of... That was gonna go the next day but weather moved in.

Bougie said the Foraker run was like the fear we felt on Zorro but like 10x more.

[XXX-er]

90% of pine beetled killed ,I would question the science ,everywhere I look in the bush I DO see at least 90% of pine trees killed but there are more trees in the forest than pines

in any case those albertans got more money than brains ... but good on you for scoring the money !

[LeeLau]

thx Jake - I was eying up the couloir actually so its good to know the entire ridge has possibilities. Am going to hike it sometime in fall anyhow just to get in the colors.

thought you might enjoy this from when we were touring with Bougie in rogers pass.,

http://www.leelau.net/2009/rogers200...zly2009_02_12/

fuker killed me on the bootpack using flexons and big heavy kit with dukes.

[carpathian]

I am exhausted because I have been up all night and today. Vesna went into labor about 8am yesterday morning and was in easy labor all day until 4pm when they started to become more intense. At 6pm we drove to the hospital to start working through the rest of the labor process. Vesna was a trooper. She stayed with her breathing through each and every contraction. We had her doula Tamara and her friend Tracy to help with the labor along with Vesna’s mom...

[/gory birth details]

It was a mind-blowing experience.

So now the story has changed like it was bound to. It is no longer about Me and my adventures in the mountains. Don’t get me wrong, I will still go in the mountains but I don’t feel like I have the stomach for any more near death experiences. The adventure is now about raising baby Rosie Julijana and experiencing the world through her eyes.

2 weeks later:

I am on the final step in finishing this house. I started construction with very limited experience in legit house construction but now I feel like I can build the next house even better. The next plan in the works is to make the move back to Alaska and work on developing our little piece of land in Girdwood. Maybe then my spirit will feel at ease, like season bird home to roost? Smithers is all right but as I tell Vesna, Smithers is nice where as Girdwood is magical.


Baby Rosie is just over two weeks old now and her personality is just beginning to develop. The other day Vesna left Rosie and I in bed so she could go to town to get some coffee to bring back. She left at 8am and I lay there for a while watching Rosie sleep like only an adoring father can. Around 8:30 she began to stir from here angelic slumber. She sure was cute when she was calm or asleep but like any baby, once she is hungry she will let you know by wailing her little lungs out.

I was getting nervous. Where is Vesna? I bet she is caught up talking to some girlfriend like she has the tendency to do. No, she knows there is a baby here that only she can feed, as we are not using formula at all. Rosie is awake now and starting to get upset. I walk in circles in the little cabin we are still in but she is not buying it. The pacifier is doing next to nothing. She is crying now and I feel completely helpless. I am helpless. Vesna has the milk… Where is she?! Maybe she got in a car wreck? NO that is crazy! But maybe? Rosie is wailing and I feel empty and helpless. How long do I wait until I have to race to the store and go buy formula? Where the heck is Vesna?! I am getting kind of angry because I KNOW she is gabbing to some random long lost friend, recalling the details of the birth of our little beloved baby. WWWAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

I can only sit there for the last 20 minutes with a knot in my stomach as my little girl is apparently in so much distress. I envision a life without Vesna, just me and the baby and somehow we would make it work…

Just then the car pulls up and Vesna gets out with my lukewarm latte. Sure enough she was talking to her friends and even though she was trying to get back to us they were pushing for me and the baby to have some quality time together. Time to bond I guess.

So there you go. Welcome to the life of a parent. It has been practiced through out the ages so there is some comfort in knowing that each and every person has started out as a screaming infant. It is like joining a huge, not so elite club where the entrance fee is nominal but the responsibility is enormous.

[carpathian]

One day Ryan and I decided to go for a bike ride. It was a beautiful crisp day in late August or early September. We were looking for a nice bike ride out to Bird Point to enjoy the last remnants of summer before the dark and rain of winter. We cruised out along the new bike path that used to be the old highway and dawdled at the over looks as Ryan drilled some golf balls out into the ocean.

We made our way to the parking lot and left the bikes in the bushes and followed the trail that leads towards the waters edge. We cut off the trail and made our way to the beach and started combing along through the debris and logs piled high. The tide was beginning to make it ways out to sea and the lower rocks were coming into view. As Ryan was now throwing rocks I climbed over a crest of logs to peer into the next collection of debris.

I saw something that caught my eye. It looked human at first glance. I thought I saw long hair of a girl but could not be sure. I called Ryan and we were both petrified. Whatever it was, it was obviously dead. It was bloated and distended so it made identification tricky coupled with the fact that we did not want to go near it.

It was tangled in the logs and had various body parts that could be from different animals. Besides a person, it looked most a pig because it was all pink flesh. We slowly ventured closer actually afraid that whatever it was might leap up and get us. The head bent over on it self and I had to get to about 10 feet away. I then thought it was a huge dead dog, maybe a rottweiler.

We were stuck looking at this creature afraid that it might be human but feeling more confident that it was not. We had to go on and maybe we would come investigate on the way back through. As soon as we climbed out of the little grotto of death the air lifted on our thoughts and the day became beautiful again.

The shore along Bird Point is riddled with many miniature inlets that are surrounded by rock with mud revealed in the middle as the tide retreats. Our goal was to make it to the furthest point of rock possible as the tide continued to fall. We went out to the present moment, furthest point and waited.

It was easy waiting with a splendid view of Alpenglow Mountain across the arm and all the stunning Chugach to our east and north. From this vantage we could see all the way out towards Anchorage and the tail end of the Alaska Range in the far west across Cook Inlet. The day seemed overtly crisp. The shapes of the mountains down to the tiny rivulets of water trickling across the mud back to the ocean. The sky was an impenetrable blue and we soaked up the sun as the tide fell. Every half hour or so we could move out another 20 or 30 feet to the most freshly exposed rock. It was exhilarating as far as slow motion patience games go.

I remember we had decided that the tide was low enough and we should go back to see what was up with the dead animal. Just as we stood to go I was over come by a great confusion that was subtle at first then became more startling by the second. At first I could not tell what was wrong. I looked at my self and at Ryan and it appeared that we had become black and white. I thought I might be having some sort of head rush until I looked up into the sky towards the east and it appeared as if a great slash or schism had opened up across the sky and earth and it was angled at about a 45 degrees. I turned behind me and the slash continued to the west as far as I could see and I felt a panic. Did we somehow inadvertently slip through a rip in the fabric of space-time? Ryan and I looked at each other in disbelief, each confirming what we were experiencing. Just then I looked straight up and could see a long thin cloud cutting across the sky.

Holy Smokes! It was a contrail from a passing jet liner up in the sky. We were in the shadow of the contrail as the sun was perfectly lined up behind the thin line of what was actually a brief cloud cover for the day! I was flabbergasted. A moment later the cloud drifted and the sun came back in full force and our world was one piece again.

Now back on track. We had to really see what was all twisted up in the logs on route back to the bikes. We approached cautiously but more confident considering the earth shattering experience ten minutes prior. I got close. I could see a hoof. It was a mountain sheep. We were elated! The poor thing must have got ripped off a nearby peak by an avalanche and thrown into the ocean where it half decomposed only to be washed up on shore here.

With that mystery solved we made our way back to the bikes and home to Girdwood.

[carpathian]

I was living in my truck these days so I guess home could be anywhere. That night I was hanging out with a girl. We were not boyfriend and girlfriend though there was an obvious, weird connection. This night was particular because we had a crazy communication breakthrough. I guess you could describe it as a brother/sister psychic thing, where we were basically reading each others thoughts and seeing the world through one mind. I know, I know, hippy ju-ju bullshit, but I know what I experienced.

So if the day was not weird enough, it was going to get weirder. I remember pacing around the living room all worked up as we tried to figure out what to do with ‘this.’ You know ‘this’ right here? She was sitting on the couch peaking behind a blanket. She assured me that she was not cowering from me, though I did feel crazy. We were stuck in the moment and it would pass.

I had to go to sleep. I went to my truck out in the condo parking lot. There were banks of condos on three sides of me effectively making for a man made canyon of sorts. The gravel was dry and firm as I crawled into the back of truck. I was exhausted but my head was spinning from the day’s events. My conversation with the girl was crazy. We had come to the conclusion that the world is as you see it. You expect XYZ and you get XYZ. If you talk about and expect ABC then you get ABC. It depends on what you want, I guess.

I had a thought as I lay in the back of my truck. What if you somehow manifested something that you did not want? You know, get stuck thinking about something you don’t want to think about and it happens. Maybe as result or maybe you have a case of premonition, either way it would be enough to make you go crazy. Just then, as if on cue, I heard some faint footsteps off in the far end of the parking lot. It seemed as if the crunch was amplified by the acoustics of the condo canyon shape I was parked in. I had a brief flash in my mind of

“Oh shit, what if that is the Devil down at the other end of the parking lot and he is only coming for me because I tapped into the whole fucking point of all of this?!”

As I thought that, the steps did not go into a nearby building. They were getting louder and heading in my direction. As I could clearly hear the steps getting louder I was thinking

“This is it, this is the devil coming right now because I think it is the devil coming for me right now!” If felt as if the more I panicked at the idea that I was manifesting my supernatural demise I had the notion of mentally fighting the devil off before he got to me. If I could bring him to me I could ward him off. He could read my thoughts and he knew his power was controlling my thoughts towards him.

I could envision the hoofed feet inside heavy boots as the crunch became louder and more menacing. I repeatedly pinched myself to make sure I was awake. It was an act of sheer will to steer my mind around to a request of protection from on high. Whoever god is, I was struggling to make my thought clear as the steps were now approaching my truck. Just as they were within 5-10 feet of me I managed to burst out and declare in my head a personal exorcism--…

Just as I was doing a spell check on that last word, Vesna jumped up in bed behind me and started asking if Rosie was okay.

“What do you mean is she okay?” I was startled out of my reverie from the past. I turned and looked and little Rosie was all silent and ‘stopped up’ looking. We could hear labored, tiny squeaks of air trying to move in and out. She has a little spittle on her chin and she was kind of hanging like a rag doll.

I jumped up as Vesna was holding her face down patting her vigorously on the back trying to dislodge whatever was stuck in her throat. Five seconds, ten seconds we gently shook Rosie around trying to get her to start breathing. I took her and listened carefully and I could hear breath barely getting through what sounded like a barrier of mucus or something.

She did just feed an hour before so she could have spit something up and then start choking on it. Her face was becoming more pink in complexion and she was just staring like how you would imagine a choking baby to stare.

I ran to start the car and ran back in to help Vesna get dressed. For a moment I looked at the computer screen on which I had been talking about manifesting and fighting off the Devil and here he was, coming after my baby. I could sense his grip around her little body and I drove as fast a possible the three minutes to the local hospital. We were lucky we were so close. The whole drive Vesna was holding Rosie and trying to get her to breath, or to do anything. She was just limp and staring. We whipped into the ER and made our way into the doctor immediately.

“Our baby is not breathing!” I cried as he took her from Vesna and said,
“Yes she is.”

Rosie seemed perplexed at all the commotion as she now seemed to be breathing on her own. She was not crying but sitting there very, very gently as the doctor looked at her while Vesna and I kind of paced around. In the end Vesna and Rosie stayed the night at the hospital where they will stay today and tonight as well.

Apparently there is a little trigger in a babies throat that can shut off when it senses potential choke hazard, like when you dunk them under water as an infant swimmer. I did not tell Vesna what I was writing about and how I had not felt that rush of super natural anticipation since the night long ago that I was writing about. I drove home to get some things for Vesna for the night and I felt spooked walking to the house, like a child afraid of the dark. Or more like a child who is afraid of what is lurking in the dark waiting to pounce.

I guess I should finish the story:

In my head I literally cried out with conviction, “Fuck you Devil, you’re not taking me!”

Right at that instant the heavy boot steps came up along aside the out side of my truck and a deep voice cursed from not two feet away, “God Damn it!” The sound sent chills through my body as the steps kept walking on by and I listened somewhat petrified but relieved as the heavy steps crunched across the gravel and carried the voice away through the deep parking lot corridor and around the corner into the night.

[carpathian]

TGR420? I know we got off on the wrong foot... but... um...
May I ski with you?

[carpathian]

I have sent a covert operative to Jackson. Her name is Roxy Vixen and she can be very persuasive.

[highangle]

Transmission third world war third round
A decade of the weapon of sound above ground
No shelter if youre looking for shade
I lick shots at the brutal charade
As the polls close like a casket
On truth devoured
Silent play in the shadow of power
A spectacle monopolized
The cameras eyes on choice disguised
Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil?
Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil?
Yes a spectacle monopolized
They hold the reins, stole your eyes
All the fistagons the bullets and bombs
Who stuff the banks
Who staff the party ranks
More for Gore or the son of a drug lord
None of the above fuck it cut the cord

Lights out guerilla Radio
Turn that shit up

[carpathian]

We went on a little 1st descent recon mission last week.



Our pilot, counting hours until commercial license.




Tiltusia, could be a first:




I dunno... It is starting to look gnarly!
Seven Sisters



6 of the Sisters. Could be a few lines in there somewhere...?



Weesxanist Peak. That couloir is skiable... barely.



Getting across that glacier could be tricky.



Hit some bumpy air near the top here:



Trevor said he just kept taking pictures even though we were bouncing all around. South side of the Sisters:



Stewardess? Barf bag please.



There is Hazelton tucked in between the rivers there. Would you believe 98% unemployment?



Thomlinson is a first, the thin line in the middle.



You get in at the little micro col



Lots of glaciers, eh?



Looks sketchy



Hudsons Bay, above town:



Frontside Y Couloir, not a first:



Backside Y, would be a second:

[JayPowHound]

All I have to say is that AK is an incredible place

[carpathian]

^^^ It is BC, between Smithers and Terrace.

[XXX-er]

HB glacer is right above my house ,I can see both falls from the deck

the xc racer kids chopper up every august for an on-snow ski camp

[carpathian]

I see the line now. Right off the main summit, lookers left ridge between crevass' and huge cliffs, roll down ridge to where it becomes that weird
fish hook-shaped shaded gulley and then the lower broad gulley and out skiers left at bottom...?

[garyfromterrace]

Amazing shots of the sisters. Kudos for the recon mission, and more kudos for considering skiing those aspects. That last shot - is that the S face? When I climbed up the S side of Weesxaneest there was quite a bit more snow (it was July I believe) and it looked skiable for the most part, except for the shrund which (for me at least) would have been very intimidating, it's probably much bigger now, as this was about 10 years ago when I got up pretty high there. Did you get any good looks at that big col (W face I think)between the 1st and 2nd Sister (looking left to right from the highway)? Eagleton and I thought that could go but we never got a good look at the bottom section. Good writing by the way man.

[LeeLau]

carpathian - OH MY GOD

[Jer]

This should be on the Discovery Channel or something.

[carpathian]

^^ True dat.

If there are any Discovery Channel execs out there maybe you want to do a reality show of some sort?

OK, I'd better get into the meat of my pitch anyway.

TGR? You and your affiliated sponsors obviously have first dibs. I'd even go for Rossi if I got to help design skis and shit. There is something to be said about job security in these crazy times.

Going once, going twice...

Any one else? I will let you think about it for a awhile.

Here is video version of our little flight. I figure if we hit each of these peaks and at least attempt the proposed lines, that would be a sweet movie/story. Just look, ski/snowboard mountaineering is SO IN right now.

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1JgB7Iyqho"]YouTube - Northern BC Recon Flight[/ame]

I was having issues with exposure filming through foggy windows and clouds etc, but with the right music it becomes all artistic, man.