split mountain - south face

by bran

may 21 - 2019

big pine, ca

split mountain isn’t the most technical or strenuous california 14er, but its a total slog to get to the trailhead and to get to the base of the mountain.  the low red lake trailhead (6,500’) makes for a nearly 8k vertical climb to the summit, with 15 miles round trip. i teamed up with my instagram friend sayer (@swayzar) for an awesome 2 day excursion to climb and ski (or splitboard in his case) the mountain.

the drive from 395 to the trailhead is a bit challenging to navigate, and a high clearance vehicle is mandatory in my opinion.  i rented a truck for the weekend to get it done and scoured the internet to plan the drive. here’s a gps breakdown of the route we took to the trailhead. we didn’t cross any private property to follow this route.

photo by  @swayzar

photo by @swayzar

mount whitney climb and ski

by bran

april - 2018

lone pine, ca

in the spring of 2017 i had climbed the classic mountaineer’s route with my dad.  we had a great day in the mountains, summiting in beautiful weather, but our goal of skiing the line was stymied a by not-yet-consolidated snowpack in couloir.  with this task left incomplete, my motivation to return was high.  after a week of high pressure and freeze/thaw in feburary 2018, it seemed like green light to return to the route. 

with a light pack and the first third of the route passable in trail runners, the climbing went quickly.  i found myself on the summit seven hours after leaving the car.  after downclimbing five hundred feet of snow and rock, i clicked in for a super exciting ski run.  my timing wasn’t perfect, with some sticky slush to manage at the top of the line.  once out of the top section tho, i enjoyed ideal corn all the way down from 13k’ to 9k’.  it would turn out to be one of my only ski mountaineering days of the 2018 season due to an onslaught of work, but it sure was a fantastic day. 

with dad in 2017

with dad in 2017

little lakes valley and mt dade

by bran

may - 2017

little lakes valley, ca

the little lakes valley hangs high in the east side of the sierra, between the towns of bishop and mammoth.  home to a spectacular collection of mountains and alpine lakes, with easy access via a 9,000’ trailhead, it was the destination for a spring excursion in the spectacular season of 2017.  with a historic winter’s snowpack, we set out for 3 days of snow camping, mountaineering, and skiing culminating in an ascent and ski of  13600’ mt. dade via the hourglass couloir.

Mt Adams: The Summit is Only Halfway

Once we reached the summit I was overjoyed, ate a Snickers bar and took in the view. I could tell I was very fatigued and a bit dehydrated. This had been a 7,000 foot ascent over 6 miles and we started at 4am. It was a very big day, only made a little harder by the the intensity of the sun. Also I had never done a day on skis over 4,000 feet.  But all the hard work was done and our reward was a 7,000 foot descent on skis!

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yosemite moments

“click”, “click”, “click-hissssss”.  the buzz of the stove firing up was a welcome promise of coffee in the cold, dewy predawn.  we were bundled in down jackets and sleeping bags sitting in camp chairs in a long line of shivering climbers, hikers, and campers.  we had roused from our stealth bivy outside the park at four in the morning to drive into Yosemite National Park.  once there, we had begun a vigil of waiting in line for the Camp 4 walk in campground.  every morning, may thru november, a line of scrappy looking travelers forms outside of the ranger kiosk to queue up for the handful of available campsites for the day.  eighth in line on a monday morning, we were confident in our chances of scoring a site for the week.  a handful of hours of waiting, paperwork filing, and hauling, we were established in our home for the week.  together with a randomly selected ragtag international crew of climbers from all over the world, we would all settle into a beautiful routine of waking early, climbing hard all day, and returning in the evening to drink beers and recap the climbing action of the day.  

I’m looking up at this roof thinking how on earth can this climb be rated 5.6. The climb is called Munginella and is a classic moderate multi pitch in Yosemite Valley. People from all over the world climb this route everyday. Therefore I chose this route to lead Bran up the entire thing - no following on top rope but leading every pitch. Yet, here I sit frozen under a roof on the second pitch. Luckily there was a sturdy fixed piton right below the roof so if I fell I would have an awful pendulum swing into the rock but at least I wouldn’t hit the ledge below. I managed to find one tiny foothold on the face that allowed me to look at the roof a little closer. I started to place a piece in the roof but my leg started to shake violently from nerves. I managed to get the purple piece in the rock but had very little confidence in it as I couldn’t stop shaking. I kept eyeing Bran down below at the belay thinking, “You luckily bastard you get to be on top rope for this.” So with not alot of options left I took a deep breath and reached around the roof standing on this one tiny foot hold with a bad piece of protection at my waist. Thankfully I managed to find an excellent hand hold just in time for my feet to slip under me. I quickly managed to run my feet up the wall and stand proudly on top of the roof, while shakily placing gear on the ledge to bring Bran up for the third and final pitch. Once Bran made it to the ledge he gave me a very deserved high five and a “good job” kiss on the cheek.

“I don’t see any bolts up here, so I’m just going to keep going!” bnna shouted down from what she was expecting to be the first pitch belay on the 5 pitch classic 5.9 trad climb Super Slide. the topo (map of a climb) showed two bolts on the ledge 100 feet up where bnna was expecting to belay me up to join her, before continuing a few more hundred feet up the cliff to the top of the climb.  not seeing the bolts (which turned out to have been removed), bnna figured she would head up to the next ledge to see if the bolts where there.

after succeeding two days ago in her first ever trad (placing your own protection as you move upward, rather than relying on fixed protection installed permanently in the rock)  climbing lead, she succeeded leading a classic 5.6 called After Six the day previous.  this pitch on Super Slide, also rated 5.6 wasn’t supposed to push her limits too hard.

I waited on the ground, paying out rope slowly.  bnna continued steadily upwards.  the pile of rope at my feet dwindled down to just a few feet.  I called up to bnna, informing her of her rope situation.  “Off belay!!” she shouted down a few minutes later, letting me know that she had anchored herself into the rock, and that it was now my turn to climb.  I breathed easy, assuming that she had found the bolts at the end of the first pitch after all.  

pulling on my rock shoes and cinching up the knot tying me into the climbing rope, I started up the moderate pitch, with bnna belaying me from her perch up above, hidden beyond the ledges i would climb over.  I passed by the ledge where the bolts should have been, and saw what bnna had encountered.  she had climbed up into the start of the next pitch, a substantially more difficult and technical 5.8 pitch.  not only was the grade harder, with more strenuous climbing, but the crack narrowed down to a fingertip seam, which made placing protection much more difficult.  up above I could see bnna, hanging in her harness halfway up the crack.  

with no more rope to climb higher, she had placed a few pieces of protection in the crack halfway up the pitch, and belayed me up from there.  after doing the technical 5.8 moves up the thin crack, I climbed up to where bnna was hanging. a little shakey, but smiling, bnna happily handed over rack of climbing gear to continue the climb.  

We were about to enter pitch 9 of 15 pitches. I had just led a scary but exciting 5’6 off width pitch. It was Brans turn. However instead of powering up another pitch - we had to wait on a ledge because there was a party in front of us. While this climb is understandably a classic adventurous long trad climbing route - this was my favorite part. How often does one get to stand about 1200 feet off the ground and look out into the vast Yosemite Valley. It was perfect. You could see the winding roads and the loud green dragon giving numerous tourists long bus tours through the valley. You could see Glacier Point across the valley stand tall with plenty of tiny ant size climbing parties making their way up the formation. You could see the awe inspiring, powerful, colossal Yosemite falls to the right. I think too often as a climber you get so focused on climbing a particular route that you forget to turn around and take in the views. While most could have found it annoying that another party was slowing us down, Bran and I found this moment marvelous.

“its only 5.8”.  I said to myself.  “you’ve never fallen on 5.8”.  we were standing on a small ledge halfway up a 1000 foot corner on higher cathedral rock.  above, a wide crack arched into a curved roof.  It looked hard.  the climb had already taxed us with a few hundred feet of steep but manageable climbing.  the steep nature of the pitches previous were overcome by splaying feet out left and right, stemming and bridging in the corner.  this had the effect of making the wall feel less steep, at the consequence of feeling more tenuous and insecure smearing feet against the granite.  

this pitch however, seemed to not provide that opportunity.  the wall was more glassy and polished and the walls seemed to offer less features to provide a foothold.  “you’re on belay”, bnna said, double checking the anchor and her belay.  It was time to climb.  

heading up, wedging the left side of my body into the crack, my first mission was to find a place for my largest cam, a single bd03.  the crack was far too wide for this cam at first, but finally I reached a point where the crack narrowed enough to accept this protection.  I clipped the rope to the piece and breathed a sigh of relief.  now I felt safe enough to consider the next sequence: jamming and stemming the crack before moving out onto the glassy face to some fixed pitons.  I jammed and heaved my body up the crack, clipped the first of the two pins, and contemplated the face.  the rock was so smooth.  I found a place for my foot and contemplated the next move.  there was no way my foot was going to hold.  as soon as the doubt entered my mind, I was off.  hanging at the end of the rope.  “so much for never falling on 5.8”.  I tried again.  Again my foot popped.  “fuck!”, I shouted.  “breathe!”, bnna shouted back up.  

the third try went better.  two pitches more, and we were on top.  worked. frazzled. we took in the view of the valley spread out before us and started hiking down....

the 2016 elk mountains grand traverse

by bran

march - 2016
elk mountains, colorado

the elk mountains grand traverse is the oldest and perhaps most famous ski mountaineering race in north america.  the race is based on the historical route used to deliver mail between the then mining towns (now ski resorts) of crested butte and aspen.  in the winter, travel between these towns requires almost two hundred miles of driving.  as the crow flies and as the skier skis the distance is only 40 miles.  the route travels over the heart of the elk mountains via some truly amazing alpine terrain, demanding many difficult climbs and descents.  

the race requires a two person team, and is rather strict about the team aspect of the race.  because equipment failure, injury, and navigation issues are par for the course on such a long, technical, and night-bound race, the rules stipulate that you remain together with your partner at all times.  this rule is enforced at a half dozen or so bonfire-side checkpoints along the route. for this race, I would have the perfect partner in my dad, Guy.  his love of ultramarathon running and long distance cycling, my love of mountaineering and backcountry travel, and our shared love of skiing meant the race's physical requirements would fall somewhere between our separate interests and skill levels.  

dad finishing up a climb high on vail pass. just one of dozens and dozens of grand traverse training days.

with the registration complete and the team decided, my dad and I began training in earnest when I arrived in colorado in early january.  we hammered out uphill laps at our local ski area, arapahoe basin.  we slogged out long days touring at backyard backcountry stomping grounds, vail pass and mayflower gulch.  we competed in small ski mountaineering races at the local resorts, breckenridge and a-basin.  we nerded out endlessly about every nuance of the race's technical aspects: gear, navigation, and transitions.

at the pre-race gear check. because of the difficult nature of the race, we were required to carry specific gear to survive up to 24 hours marooned at extreme temperature and altitude.

the day before the race, bnna and I drove to the starting location, crested butte, where we would meet up with my mom and dad.  the atmosphere in the town was festive and buzzing with nervous energy.  racers from points near and far filled every cafe and restaurant, and were conspicuous on the streets with their obligatory lightweight running shoes and bright technical jackets.  the pre-race gear checks, safety meetings, meals, and nervous failed attempts at napping went by in a blur.    

racers gathering for a pre-race meeting

at 11:50pm hundreds of racers stood under an inflatable arch at the base of crested butte mountain resort.  a guy in a bishop costume recited a traditional amusing prayer about the race.  a countdown began.  midnight struck.  fireworks rocketed into the air.  the race was on.  

racers gathering for the start

the first mile of the race was absolute chaos with hundreds of headlamps surging up the groomer at the center of the resort.  this would be the only groomed terrain for the next 35 miles.  in the chaos of racers jockeying for position in the first transition my dad and I lost sight of each other in the dark.  fortunately we had a plan prepared for this occurrence.  we knew the first downhill ended at a creek crossing, so we planned to wait for each other on the left side of the trail at this junction.  after some difficult skating on rolling terrain, I savored the last of the groomed trail, carving giant slalom turns down the steep track to the meet-up point.  up the drainage a half mile or so, I could see the front-runners sprinting uphill, their headlamps bobbing up and down.

about 30 people were at the creek crossing, navigating a tricky roll.  I aimed left.  "Guy!" I hollered at the bunch of headlamps.  no reply.  I shouted again.  nothing.  for the first five minutes of waiting, I assumed he had maybe tripped up during the skating section, or perhaps he crossed his tips on the first descent.  after 10 minutes, I figured something else must have gone on.  there was a transition point a quarter of a mile up, a cluster of headlamps where people were putting on their climbing skins to head up the drainage. perhaps he was waiting there instead of at the creek?  at a full sprint I headed up to the transition point, shouting "Guy!" at the top of my lungs ever minute or so to see if any of the headlamps would turn my way.  

nothing.  no one was waiting at the transition, each team there was merely slapping the glue side of their climbing skins on the bases of their skis and heading off up the trail in a hurry.  I skated back to the creek crossing starting to feel desperate. dark thoughts began in earnest.  I was going to get disqualified from the race within the first hour.  my dad was in a twisted pile of skis somewhere on the first descent.  maybe he had experienced a massive equipment malfunction a mile back during the skating section.  this was bad, very bad.  the sense of dread of disqualification or worse was mounting.  all the training, all the money spent on gear, all the sacrifices made by bnna and my mom to enable us to pursue this silly goal, everything was starting a spiral descent down the toilet.  

I saw the very last pair of headlamps finishing the first downhill ski and heading for the creek.  as a last ditch effort, I headed in a sprint for the first checkpoint, maybe my dad was accidentally waiting there?  I knew there was no chance of him being allowed to pass thru the checkpoint without a partner, so finding him here seemed like truly the last chance to find him and continue the race.  the last 20 teams or so were passing thru the checkpoint.  they would shout their team number to the marshals to confirm they were together.  "124!", "23!", "19!", they shouted in unison, before getting permission to continue.  I found the first marshal.  

"has '63' passed thru this way?"  I asked desperately.  he checked his list.  "oh yeah, we figured his partner accidentally passed thru without being seen".  "FUCK!".  how was this possible?  my dad somehow had passed the creek crossing, the first transition, and the first checkpoint without regrouping!  I was frantic and furious.  he was somewhere ahead of me, 30 minutes ahead.  hundreds of racers had passed me.  I broke into a full spring, skiing as fast as I could uphill towards the endless stream of headlamps snaking up the drainage for miles.  I passed team after team.  redlining and on the edge of control.  45 minutes passed.  a bonfire appeared, the second checkpoint!  I came within shouting distance.  

racers regrouping at a bonfire checkpoint.


"Brian!".  the shout came from a headlamp by the bonfire.  we were back in business!

I couldn't stay mad at my dad for more than a minute or two, I was so flooded with relief that we wouldn't be disqualified, and we had work to do.  I was relieved to hear that despite spending twenty minutes or more frantically searching at the first creek crossing, we were sill on a good pace.  we put our heads down and passed team after team.  winding thru the forest, gaining elevation, heading for the star basin.  

heading up into the star basin, above treeline. the racers ahead are climbing to the high point.

because of extreme weather in the forecast and potential avalanche danger, the race would turn around at the star basin (rather than continuing as it traditionally does to finish in aspen).  after the turnaround, we would head back down the drainage we had climbed, before breaking off to tour up and down the mountains north of crested butte.  then would would do a traverse of the south side of mt. crested butte, before rejoining the resort to ski down to the finish.  


dad at the high point of the race, above the star basin.

dad at the high point of the race, above the star basin.

we made great time up to the star basin, where we would pass a checkpoint at the friends hut, continue up above treeline, reach our high point, rip off our climbing skins, and begin the long ski down in the direction of the resort.  our spirits were soaring as we passed teams above the friends hut.  we had been out for five hours, it was still completely dark out, with a faint full moon partially obscured by the clouds of the building storm.  we started down from the highpoint, skiing really fun fresh powder illuminated by the cones of our headlamps.  we dropped below treeline, slaloming between trees at speed.  the field was spread out now, so we navigated down the drainage on our own, enjoying the comparative comfort of downhill travel.  as we descended, daylight arrived.  

we began climbing again, heading up strand hill north of crested butte.  we were twenty-ish miles in and feeling great.  after passing a team, we found ourselves in a huge gap with no one behind or in front of us.  with no team to pace with, we set our pace as fast as we could muster, and charged uphill.  nearing the top of the hill, we had closed the gap and started passing again.  we cruised up the forested skin track, with huge snowflakes laying down a beautiful new coat on the trees.  it felt like we were flying!  yet another transition and we were zigzagging down a snow-covered jeep trail.  all the way down to a creek crossing and the last checkpoint.  

"5 more miles to go!" said a friendly volunteer at the checkpoint. it was around 8 in the morning.  we were 30 miles into the race.  we could see mt crested butte.  this was happening.  if we kept our shit together for two more hours we would finish, and in a respectable time!  

struggling up hill in the last half of the race

the traverse of the south side of mt crested butte started innocuously enough, but as the last handful of miles ticked by the real struggling began.  until this point the climbing had felt great, without any need to stop for a break.  now, the last steep climbs were battles.  the difficult uphills were compounded by low-tide conditions that necessitated dealing with exposed rocks, tree stumps, and roots.  to add to the challenge the climbs were punctuated by short but relatively steep descents.  the descents were short enough to not warrant transitioning, which meant skiing tight trees with skins on skis and unlocked boots.  descending in this manner is extremely fatiguing, so unlike the earlier long sustained descents, these offered no rest.  the south flank of mt crested butte crawled by at a snails pace.  I silently begged for each steep technical climb to be the last.  I finished the last of my slushy water.  the race continued.  

finally, at the top of the most difficult section yet, the course yielded.  we heard the sound of a ski lift.  we were back to the resort!  we joyfully ripped our skins at the top of the ski lift, and, with extremely wobbly legs carved down to the base area.  the finish line came into view.  bnna and my mom were there at the finish line cheering along with the rest of the crowd.  my dad and I matched our pace, joined our hands, and raised them together as we crossed the line.  

the intense relief, joy, fatigue, and gratitude for the moment was completely overwhelming.  my eyes were brimming with tears as we received hugs and kisses from our amazing support team.  months of training, planning, and preparing had come together to make an incredible moment.  an incredible experience.  



Boundary Creek Yurt

For the last several days Bran and I have been in the backcountry on a ski touring trip in the Uintas in Utah. We had been anticipating this trip for some time because of the reputation of great snow and peaceful remoteness. It did not disappoint. Bran and I had 4 days and 3 nights of some of the best powder I have had this year on any back country ski tour or hut trip. Bran made a great video below: 

For those who are interested in going to the Boundary Creek Yurt I highly recommend it. The hike in is casual with about 1300 feet elevation gain over about 6.5 miles. We had blue skies the entire approach so it was very easy to follow the road and blue diamonds once the un-groomed trail ended.  However I would have the GPS coordinates and a good map as there were sections where I could see people getting turned around/lost.  We skied the peak directly behind the yurt (roughly 1500 feet elevation gain) the entire time. Luckily, the first night we arrived we woke up to about 6 inches of powder and it allowed us to explore the area behind the yurt with excellent snow for 3 whole days. There is several areas of safe terrain and some steep gullies/trees if you wanted to be more adventurous .

This is a good snap shot of the terrain surrounding the yurt. Purple, red and orange indicate terrain steep enough to slide. 

For those who do not want to go to the peak, there was an AMAZING slope about 800 feet above the yurt that Bran and I lapped for days

For those who do not want to go to the peak, there was an AMAZING slope about 800 feet above the yurt that Bran and I lapped for days

The yurt is equipped with all your daily needs (pots, pans, wood stove, firewood, propane burners, silverware, lamps, and kettle). Things I would definitely bring more of are paper towels, toilet paper, pillows, sleeping pads, games, and hand sanitizer. 

Overall the trip was pretty ideal and I would recommend it for anyone who is looking for some adventure off the beaten track. 



fowler-hilliard hut

leaving the dad car at the trailhead

beautiful frost in the morning, heading up

starting from camp hale, near minturn CO, bnna and I ski-toured up five or so miles to the fowler hillard hut, a backcountry hut part of the tenth mountain division hut system.  this system is a network of huts scattered high in the colorado rockies that are accessible by trail in the summer and ski tracks in the winter.  loaded down with two and a half day's food, clothes, and sleeping gear we made slow but steady time up the drainage, reaching treeline after three hours of toiling.  from treeline we aimed for the rounded peak of resolution mountain and continued up.  from the summit, we could see down to the northeast saddle of the mountain, where the hut stood proudly.  we pulled the climbing skins from our skis and made shaky turns (tired legs and heavy packs) down to the hut's front porch.  


skiing on shaky legs with a heavy pack

bnna chillin on the porch hydrating, our tracks down the southwest side of resolution visible in the background

dropping packs in the entry way we explored the beautiful building.  built in 2010 and outfitted with solar power, wood furnace heat, and giant picture windows facing the south, the fowler-hillard hut is an incredible building.  since we started early and moved at a good pace, we were first to arrive for the day.  we enjoyed a leisurely afternoon of lounging around the empty cabin.  

I headed out for some more skiing while bnna napped.  the north glades behind the house were skiing bottomless with no tracks anywhere to be seen, and the southwest bowl of resolution mountain in front of the house was also yielding great turns.  as I skinned back up from my second lap down the bowl, the rest of the hut's occupants began arriving.  some cool snowshoers from montana, and some friendly skiers from the northeast arrived and began preparing food, breaking out drinks, and generally making the scene.  bnna and I joined in and ate a great dinner before passing out at the ripe time of 8pm.  

heading up from the hut

seeking shelter from the wind on ptarmigan hill

the next day bnna and I headed out for a linkup.  starting from the hut, we headed again up to the summit of resolution mountain.  from the summit, we dropped into the east face, slashing turns in the beautiful windblown pow.  the first two thirds of the run were incredible, but the beautiful pow turned to heinous breakable crust in the last 500 feet.  we kickturned and groveled thru the grossness to the valley bottom.  from there, we began working our way east 3 miles up a drainage to ptarmigan pass.  as we climbed again above treeline the winds started howling, heralding the coming storm.  pushing against the wind, we got to the second peak of the day, ptarmigan hill, where a primitive hut gave us a great shelter to pull our skins and prep for the ski back to the hut.  

after lunch at the hut, we headed out again to ski the super-fun north glades with one of the cool northeasterners.  with the day waining, we retired to the hut to watch the storm roll in.  it was incredible.  the wind gusts were something like i have never seen before.

finishing the day with the storm rolling in

the next morning we woke to six new inches of powder.  bnna and I lapped the resolution bowl till our legs got heavy, before packing up and hitting the trail.  what had been a challenging day of toiling up hill with heavy packs became a couple exciting hours on the way down.  the excitement was enhanced by me tomahawking on breakable crust with a full pack, and getting inexplicably separated from bnna while within sight of the car.  

the commando run

january - 2016
white river national forest map

  • route: the commando run
  • difficulty: 14.7 miles, 3775 ft vertical gain
  • date: 1.8.2016
  • time on route: 7 hours

the commando run is a classic ski tour that connects vail pass and vail.  the route climbs from vail pass to a nearly continuous ridge line on the southwest side of i-70.  the ridge shoots north for 10-ish miles climbing up above treeline several times.  the 10th mountain division soldiers in ww2 era used the route to train to fight in the alps.  this day, my dad and I were using the route to train to race in the elk mountain grand traverse, a 40 mile ski mountaineering race taking place later in the winter.  

since i wrote this my dad and I went back and did the entire route out-and-back in a push.  good times....

we started our morning at 7 am from vail pass,  heading west on the beautiful groomed shrine pass road we made quick time to the pass.  we ripped skins and carved down the groomed road, savoring the ease of travel.  the trail soon split off north from the road, and the climb up to treeline began.  gaining the ridge, we were rewarded with beautiful views of the gore range to the southeast, and the sawatch range to the northwest.  with incredible weather and a nice skintrack set thru the deep powder, we were hooting with delight at the setup.  arriving at a highpoint we knew would be a crucial point to turn north, we managed to descend into the wrong drainage.  skinning back up to what we thought was the ridge designating our route, we were a bit startled to skin directly up to a ski lift in the blue sky basin of the vail resort.  realizing our mistake, we investigated descending back north east to see if we could regain the correct ridge.  this descent was 1000` of perfect pow, zig-zagging thru tree and wind lips.  at the end of the descent, we found ourselves cliffed out with no options to descend into the correct drainage.  with resignation, we put our skins back on and climbed back the descent we had just skied.  we arrived back at where we had made a wrong turn and hour and a half later.  a little tired, but still psyched on the amazing conditions we were enjoying, we made the correct descent thru more pow and trees to two elk pass.  from there we climbed the south ridge of siberia peak, where we pulled skins for the last time and descended to into the resort.  moving from the total solitude of the route, to the hustle and bustle of vail was a bit jarring, but we were totally stoked to find bnna (who was skiing at the resort all day) at two elk lodge right at the arranged meeting time.  what a great route!

Tahoe Sans-Turkey Holiday

It was the perfect storm - multiple days off work, new ski gear and a sizable snow storm headed straight for the sierras. Needless to say it didn't take much consideration to decide where Bran and I would be spending the Thanksgiving holiday : Tahoe. We decided since I am not that experienced on skis that we would spend the first two days resort skiing and then find a mellow back country ski area for the following two days. With the plans set, we packed up Dad Car 1 and hit the road after work on Tuesday. 

some of the vistas along 395

We drove as far as we could and car camped right outside of Bishop. We woke early the next morning and continued our way up the 395 to Tahoe. The storm was set to start Wed. morning so we wanted to get there as early as possible to avoid the inclement weather. Kirkwood was our first destination and the lifts were to open at 9. To say Bran and I were excited would be an understatement. The farther we drove the more and more snow that was falling. The anticipation of the extended weekend was building and we could not wait to have our new skis under our feet. 

First resort day!

First resort day!

Before we knew it we were on the lift and headed up the mountain. The first run of the day was a little eventful. I had never skied on my skis and was not use to the lightness and/or width of the ski. Within 20 feet of heading down the mountain, I had already face planted. By the time we made it down to the base, I was a little skeptical. But once we moved over to some easier terrain and Bran gave some helpful tips I was skiing down the mountain in no time. Throughout the day we both got better and more comfortable. Around 4 o'clock we called it a day and headed into town to find some warm, satisfying food. We stumbled upon Verde Mexican Rotisserie. They had one of the best vegan burritos Bran or I have ever had. It was so delicious that we went there again that weekend. They obviously have non-vegan food that also looked delicious but regardless if you are in South Lake Tahoe, this is a stop well worth making. As a side note: try their home-made chimichurri, you won't regret it.

dad car at Carson Pass

It was time to find a place to sleep. We had decided to try out car camping to see if our set-up will work for colder weather next year. We found a sno-park that allowed parking called Carson Pass. We piled up all our sleeping bags and tucked ourselves in at the respectable hour of 8 PM. To our surprise we were able to stay nice and warm - even though everything else in the car froze. We high-fived and hopped on the road to the next ski resort, Heavenly. To our surprise, it was still snowing! As we got closer and closer to Heavenly we could see that the resort was still socked in. We were just as stoked as the day before. As the day went on we got to go down some excellent runs, however our feet were frozen. The temperature and visibility that day were not ideal, in fact we ended up going in to warm up several times that day. As a result we called it a day around 2pm. Even though it was not as fun as anticipated we were glad to be able to have another day skiing. 

t-giving prep with some of the crew

Coincidently a group of our friends from LA were renting a cabin in Tahoe this weekend too. They invited us into their home for Thanksgiving and to stay with them for the duration of the weekend. As cheesy as it sounds, Bran and I were tremendously thankful for the invite. We thought it was so kind for them to include us in their holiday celebration. We are still grateful for their generosity. Therefore after our ski day in Heavenly, we headed straight to their cabin. They had just began to prepare the Thanksgiving feast. We arrived with some excellent beer and a helping hand. That night was filled with stories, laughs, games, conversations, amazing food and great company. Bran and I went to bed with full bellies and smiles on our faces - ready to go back-country skiing for the first time ever the next day!

bran taking a break in the back country

We decided on Carson Pass. There was multiple types of terrain to choose from and was suggested as a place with good moderate terrain. We arrived and set off on the trail at around 9 am.  It was a winter wonderland. Words can not describe just how beautiful the mountains can be in a snowstorm, not to mention we had it all to ourselves. After exploring through all the trees we found a fun line down a slope and through some trees. It was spectacular. While I still have some learning to do about how to ski powder, it was amazing to create your own line and weave between trees in this snowy wonderland. At the bottom of the slope, Bran and I decided to head to the car. We had just had the perfect first day in the back-country, minus my transitions (I have some "opportunity" there) . Once we got back to the car around noon we went into town. We got some groceries for the house so we could prepare them a great soup for lunch/dinner. After another night filled with great people we went to bed again with full bellies and smiles on our faces. 

bnna making her way through the trail

The next day we got up even earlier than the day before. We were ready to go a little longer and farther into the back-country. It was a blue bird day and the mountains were calling. We arrived at Carson Pass at around 8am, we thru on our skis and followed a skin track through the trees and up to Elephants Back. Bran got this cool line down the Elephants Back.

bran finishing up his run down elephants back

bnna finishing up her second lap

We then decided to continue our way down the mountain around where we skied the day before. Once we got to the bottom, we skinned back up for another lap. We, yet again, got another amazing line all the way down the mountain. Even though we saw several people that day we still felt the mountain was ours. We were skiing by ourselves and with no crowds. After a second lap, I was feeling pretty fatigued. It was the fourth day in a row we had been skiing and I was hungry (shocking). We headed back to the trail head and back to the cabin. 

The next morning we packed up the car and decided to hit up Heavens one more time. There was plenty of powder and we managed to get in almost a dozen runs before noon. Unfortunately we had to call it a day and begin the journey back down to reality. We had a spectacular trip in the sierras. The vacation allowed us to get a glimpse of what next year's la gran aventura holds. Overall, Tahoe has some great mountains and I highly recommend either resort skiing or back country skiing. 

final view of the mountains on our way back to LA

mellow mammoth weekend

bnna, post surgery

bnna, post surgery

“we have to get out of the city”  

it was agreed immediately.  the last weekend had been a real struggle.  between the pain in bnna’s knee from the previous week’s surgery, and the claustrophobic heat in the apartment that had been the status quo for so many weeks that summer, it was time to move.

fleeing so-cal

with the oppressive heat bearing down on all of southern california, the clear choice was to go north and up.  pre-dawn the next morning we were off up the familiar roads of hwy 395.  the iconic route that sweeps north and south along the eastern flank of the sierra nevada.  

lake mary

after stopping at a favorite haunt in lone pine, ca, the alabama hills cafe we continued north thru bishop to mammoth lakes ca.  at around 8000 ft. elevation, mammoth lakes offers cool mountain air even in the heat of the california summer.   turns out, mammoth is a great place for a mountain adventure even for the marginally ambulatory.  here’s some fun things we found to do:

minaret summit

4x4 roads southeast of mammoth mountain

  • renting a canoe and paddling all over lake mary
  • hitting up the mammoth brewing company for some microbrew tasting (marginal) and lunch (pretty solid)
  • driving up the minaret road past the ski resort to scope out the views of the minarets
  • exploring a maze of 4x4 roads southeast of mammoth mountain.  this proved to be a great place to camp for free en route to yosemite a few weeks later. 
  • splurging for a room at the sierra nevada resort and spa (turns out hot tubs feel great on a recovering knee)




broken knee

It hurt. Not going to lie. My knee hurts. Unfortunately it is not broken from some epic trip but by my choosing. I went under the knife - i finally took the plunge to get my knee fixed. the surgery went well but my adventurous spirit is not doing well. I spent an entire 4 days sitting on a couch, on pain killers, watching netflix, unmotivated to have any conversation and flat out depressed. Bran has been an amazing care giver. I can't complain. But at the end of the day, I am just down in the dumps. However I am attempting to get excited about life again. Therefore I am creating a list of all things amazing that I am looking forward to next year on our la gran aventura (in no particular order):

1. getting to the summit of mt. rainer and skiing the entire way down

2. yurt trips. period. hut trips. period.

3. ski touring at dawn and then riding the lifts allllll dayyyy

4. sleeping in dc1 with the excitment of the next days adventure

5. bran by my side - always

6. finally getting barrelled at kuta beach 

7. learning spanish

8. swapping leads in yos

9. diving into the sea of cortez for the first time 

10. being the only back country skiers around the whitney portal

11. road tripping across the country trying to catch the next swell or the best pow

12. escaping to the desert when we are cold

13. freedom

14. adventuring through south east asia

15. living in a van in nz

16. getting totally deep pow in the wasatch

17. having home be the road or mountains or hut or car or tent or sleeping bag 

18. boat trips

19. different perspectives 

20. skiing.surfing.climbing.hiking. snorkeling.running.eating.sleeping.yoga.camping.backpacking. every day all day