Short Day Long Tour

Gearing up along the Seward Highway and icy Turnagain Arm

Even though the days are getting longer we're still under 16 hours of darkness. On a tour this weekend Eric, Dana and I saw the sun rise and set while on skis. We left the car around 10 a.m. and 9 1/2 hours later made it out of the woods under foggy darkness. In all we covered more than 12 miles and gained over 5,000' of vertical. Here are some pictures to tell the tale (more here).

Over the AK RR...

...and up to the source of Peterson Creek.

We spotted a colouir and decided to check it out.

Sittin' pretty in the backseat all the way to the glacier below

A successful climb and descent of the long colouir on the right gave us cause to celebrate just before sunset.

Before long the sun sets on our tour with three hours of skiing to go.

As darkness falls we noticed that a wolverine made tracks on this pitch just before us.

ravens and hoarfrost

Some pictures that have been hiding on our camera since last year.

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door."

The Raven was first published on this day in 1845 in The New York Evening Mirror.

Ski Biscuit

Pictures from a sunny Saturday tour on Turnagain Pass. Corn Biscuit was our ridgeline of choice.

Of BroBrahs, Gnar, and the Teleturn

This sounds very similar to a conversation overheard at a bar last week.

Till a' the seas gang dry

Robert Burns, Bard of Ayrshire, was born 251 years ago today in Alloway, Scotland (1759).
Today people in Scotland and groups all over the world are holding Burns suppers to celebrate his life and work. They read Burns' poems, sing his songs, eat haggis, and drink lots of whiskey. (From the Writer's Almanac)

My favorite:

O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June:
O my Luve's like the melodie
That’s sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve
And fare thee weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.

What in the World?

Our friend Raymond, Kodiak's own roving photojournalist, snapped these pics on a drive out the road today. First person to post a comment correctly identifying why these eagles are so interested in the shallows wins a prize.

I was reminded that it is January in Alaska.

Windy walk to work this morning. I can’t get out of bed very promptly these days. I want to wait for the sun, usually ignoring my alarm.
I wore my heavy new boots – silly looking things that slow my steps.

My face was covered with a fleece scarf, my giant mittens made my hands into seal flippers, barely able to grasp my coffee mug.
I knew the coffee would be cold by the time I got into the office.

I thought the wind was going to blow me down. I leaned into it. Gravel and ice chips battered my face, making my eyes fill with tears. I was afraid that the street signs would break free

And hit me.

Owls

Owls
— for Camille

Wait; the great horned owls

Calling from the wood's edge; listen.

There: the dark male, low

And booming, tremoring the whole valley.

There: the female, resolving, answering

High and clear, restoring silence.

The chilly woods draw in

Their breath, slow, waiting, and now both

Sound out together, close to harmony.

These are the year's worst nights.

Ice glazed on the top boughs,

Old snow deep on the ground,

Snow in the red-tailed hawks'

Nests they take for their own.

Nothing crosses the crusted ground.

No squirrels, no rabbits, the mice gone,

No crow has young yet they can steal.

These nights the iron air clangs

Like the gates of a cell block, blank

And black as the inside of your chest.

Now, the great owls take

The air, the male's calls take

Depth on and resonance, they take

A rough nest, take their mate

And, opening out long wings, take

Flight, unguided and apart, to caliper

The blind synapse their voices cross

Over the dead white fields,

The dead black woods, where they take

Soundings on nothing fast, take

Soundings on each other, each alone.

"Owls" by W.D. Snodgrass, from Selected Poems: 1957-1987. © Soho Press, 1987.

Know Before You Go

This is an article that I wrote to be featured on the Chugach National Forest Avalanche Information Center website. I plan to contribute two articles per month to the site.

It goes without saying that backcountry travel in avalanche terrain involves risks. Exposure, equipment failure, injury, and, of course, the hazards associated with the release of an avalanche are major risks that a traveler should consider before every tour. Backcountry users, however, tend to be an optimistic group. For instance, even the slightest accumulation of early season snow is cause for celebration among backcountry enthusiasts. In the same vein, backcountry users may also perceive lower risk in the face of danger as a result of their sunny disposition. Indeed, early season avalanches have claimed the lives of three U.S. backcountry users so far this season. While optimism is certainly an enviable trait, this glass-half-full outlook could lead to ill advised decisions in the backcountry. Which begs the question, are backcountry users aware of the avalanche danger during an outing? A recent article in Wilderness & Environmental Medicine details the efforts of researchers in Salt Lake City, Utah to determine who “knows before they go.” The group of three scientists took their clipboards to popular trailheads and backcountry access gates in the Wasatch and Uinta mountains in the winter of 2005-2006 and asked backcountry users to rate the avalanche danger for their destination. Over three hundred backcountry travelers completed a questionnaire that collected information such as level of avalanche education (i.e., whether the traveler had taken an avalanche education course) and mode of travel. Participants were then asked to assess the avalanche danger that they expected for their destination. These results were compared to that day’s avalanche forecast from the Utah Avalanche Center (UAC) daily advisory which uses the same standard ranking system as the CNFAIC – low, moderate, considerable, high, or extreme. The backcountry users who participated in the survey were grouped based on their mode of travel – ski, snowboard, snowmachine, and snowshoe.
Results of the survey indicated that a large portion of skiers and snowboarders were aware of the avalanche danger – only 10% of skiers and 13% of snowboarders underestimated the level of avalanche danger for their destination. While a larger percentage of snowmachiners (22%) and snowshoers (45%) underestimated the avalanche danger. Now, before skiers and snowboarders launch “I told you so” rants and begin blaming other backcountry users for the slab that released during their last tour, it is important to note that this study did not determine whether the participants in the survey had accurately assessed the level of avalanche danger based on their own stability and weather observations. That is, backcountry users were not asked whether they had dug a pit, and tested the snow to assess the avalanche danger. Rather, the study simply identified who had read the daily avalanche advisory. Therefore, it is impossible to know which backcountry travelers in the study had actually examined snow pack conditions for their destination. While the results of the study may confirm preconceived notions about which backcountry users are aware of current avalanche conditions, it also demonstrates the challenges faced by avalanche centers such as the CNFAIC to expand their reach to backcountry travelers using snowshoes and snowmachines. A quick click or call to the CNFAIC daily avalanche advisory is always a good idea when planning a tour. And, with a new advisory every day of the week it’s even easier to “know before you go.”

Silverton NA, McIntosh SE, Kim HS. Risk Assessment in Backcountry Travel. Wilderness & Environmental Medicine, 2009; 20(3): 269-274.