Snow Safety

While some folks may complain about the cold and the dark that comes with winter, there are those of us who enjoy it as one of the finest seasons to play outside.  With cold comes snow, and with snow comes a whole new set of variables.  With this in mind I spent last weekend attending an avalanche level 1 course at Bell Lake Yurt in the Tobacco Root Mountains, about 45 minutes northwest of Ennis.

Since we haven't had much snow since the storm over Thanksgiving we were able to drive to the trail head, where the six of us students and two instructors attached climbing skins to skis and splitboards, briefly reviewed beacon protocols, and set off up the trail.  It was icy and thin to begin with, the snow gradually deepening and softening as we climbed higher.  We stopped at opportune times to discuss things like terrain traps and getting a group safely through avalanche paths.  About three hours of hiking later we reached Bell Lake Yurt, elevation 8500'.

I've always had a soft spot in my heart for yurts, and this one was no exception.  There were bunk beds along one wall, a wood stove that we soon had cranking, and a fully stocked kitchen complete with propane stove along the other side.  It fit the eight of us and our gear just fine.

 That first day we stayed close to the yurt, learning about our beacons and practicing rescue scenarios.  It's one of those skills you pray you never, ever have to use, because it means things have gone very, very wrong.

The next morning we awoke to gray skies and howling winds, typical of an approaching front.  We hiked up to the lake and skirted the edge to the opposite side, and headed up a small ridge.  Along the way we stopped to dig some snow pits and learn about various tests to evaluate the stability of the snowpack.

 Digging a pit gets faster with practice...or so they tell me.  My team got the prize for the most precise measurements and smoothest walls.  We were also the slowest.

Hooray for digging!

We toured up, stopped for lunch, rode down, then climbed a different slope to dig more pits there and enjoy some open tree skiing.  For many people this was their first time touring, hiking uphill with sticky skins attached to skis, and there was a lot of hands-on learning of how to navigate around sharp turns and over thinly-covered obstacles.

 The last descent of the day brought us right back to the yurt.  We stripped off sweaty layers and boots while our guides and teachers got the fire going and started on dinner.  It's a good thing the curry was pungent because eight steamy bodies makes things real funky really fast.

Home sweet home.

Puzzle time while waiting for dinner.

 Our last morning dawned quiet and snowy.  We had gotten a good four or five inches overnight, and as we lay in bed we could hear large slabs sliding off the roof as the wood stove started pumping out heat.  This was the day we discussed route selection, and our job was to plan the day's itinerary, taking into account the current conditions and all we'd learned over the weekend.  We chose to explore an area to the northwest of the lake, and set off following our trail from yesterday.  Once there we decided it was too thin to comfortably ride, but we still had some good discussions of terrain.

Drew, yurt owner and instructor, pointing out some terrain features.

From there we traversed across the bowl and I was introduced to split skiing.  A snowboard is great for riding down hills, but it doesn't do so well once the terrain flattens out.  For situations like this it's more efficient to keep the board in two pieces and ski across those flatter areas.  Fine and dandy if you're a skier, but there's a reason I snowboard instead.  It was something akin to watching a penguin on roller skates.  

Hiking across the lake - I'm the little blue gnome.

 The five inches at the yurt translated to eight inches in the basin, and we had a blast making fresh turns all the way back down to camp.  Then it was time to pack everything up and make our way out.  The first section had a good pitch to it, with more fun powder turns even with a fully-loaded pack.  After that, I got to practice my split skiing for two long, agonizing miles.  I was the last one to the trail head, wobbly and tired but still alive.  I celebrated my win by joining some folks at the Pony Bar, then meeting up with Carl at Norris Hot Springs to soak away my aches.  It was a fantastic weekend for both the body and the mind.  Now all we need is a little more snow...

Weeeee!