Day 1... and 2!

Funny to publish that right after my Bahamas pics...

Well not wasting anytime, I had the pleasure to inaugurate my LT pass.

Friday (December 26th), W decided to give us a day off, and thus to give me a day of skiing (so he didn't do everything wrong after all).

About 30 inches of snow cover over the whole ski area. Not much, but a lot of light powder everywhere. In downhill mode, we could find untracked runs almost all day! However, even if most of the time our skis were floating, we could tell (and sometimes feel) that the ground, and rocks, were really not that far under...

A few more snowflakes came our way during the week end, so we did it again on Sunday! A scary morning, with rain rain rain from Hamilton all the way to the base of the mountain.

But at the pass, fortunately it was snow. Heavy, wet snow. Since I knew I was going to spend most of the day skiing on my own, I took the teles that day. And now, I know that I am not ready for knee-deep heavy snow on those. I thought I'd die of exhaustion just trying to get back on my feet after my numerous crashes.

Also, for the first time, the ski patrol was giving tickets to people skiing closed runs. The avalanche danger is super high and they apparently had 2 slides happening at the ski area Sunday. I really hope things settle a little bit... But I guess that for now, I will be content with all the snow still to come staying at the ski area. 

Gotta go wax the skis for Thursday!

I love winter time

Nice view from my bedroom, december 18th

December 19th, at night
December 21st.
Going snorkeling, december 22nd: the boat
and from the boat...

And finally, december 23rd.

San Salvador Island is the furthest island to the east of the Bahamas archipelago. Apparently, it was the first piece of land discovered by Columbus in 1492.

It was a US air force base for a while, supposedly there to relay satellites linked to Cape Canaveral, maybe also to just keep one little eye on the communist neighbor...

There is absolutely nothing on this island, besides a few houses and the resort we stayed at. The population reaches barely 1000 inhabitants, and the whole economy is linked to the resort. 

Nothing to do but relax on a beautiful white-pinkish sand beach, maybe a little sailing or scuba-diving between two cocktails?

Tough life.

Runaway me

I never thought I'd ever be blogging from an airport. It's kind of interesting. With strangers walking behind me... I know I don't get that many readers, so I doubt any of them will ever read my prose, but still...

I (can't recognize myself) am running away from the cold and the snow. The thermometer said -6F this morning in Missoula. I thought my feet would freeze waiting for them to shut the plane door...
Beautiful flight above Wyoming and Colorado, everything was white. With very thin clouds, the colors were amazing as the sun was rising.
I have been at the Denver International Airport for about 3 hours now, about 2 more to go.
The plains around are white too, the sun is here, but there is a funny haze all around. We can barely see the mountains.
Next step, Miami, where I should arrive at 11 local time. Spend the night in a hotel and tomorrow...yay! Bahamas here I come!!!!
I still can't believe I might be sipping sweet drinks on the beach in 24 hours. It sounds really good to me.

I still have a thought for you all up there in the cold (well I am still in the cold right now anyway...). Hopefully I will have pictures and a computer to publish them really soon.

YYYYYYYYYAAAAAAYYYYY!!!!! SNOW!!!!!!!

whine (plural whines)

Wiktionary definition:

a long-drawn, high-pitched complaining cry or sound.

to utter a whine

to complain or protest in a childish manner about trivial things

My definition:

Use it to get what you want. Always works. I can make a very long list of examples...

Wake me up

when the snow finally shows up.

I am really getting depressed by the weather now... And guess what: one of the best snow years has started in Europe...

I hope you're right, Jon..

Pray for snow...

Where is it???

It's raining, and 45˚F!!!

Shouldn't it be the end of fall after the (fake) powder hound is burnt?

(2nd Burning Dog Festival - Missoula oct 17th)

Oh what am I talking about??

Writing therapy : Stinkin' Hippies

So I understand that's how people concerned by environment are called by Hummer drivers.

I was surfing the blogosphere yesterday and ended up on a blog I won't name here. The only thing I will say about it is: the author was hosting a pseudo-debate that I was interested in until my contributions were censored - which happened to be right after I dared disagreeing with the author.

Anyway. Yesterday, the author of that blog was bragging about parking her SUV in the "reserved for green vehicles" spot, as a way of protesting against the construction of a green building. 

What??

I mean, who is against environmentally conscious constructions, or cars?

Even if you believe that global warming is just "God hugging us a little closer", if you deny that there is a human contribution to global warming, I thought that everybody agreed that we need to do something!

What is wrong with encouraging people to drive green cars? You have your SUV and the constitutional right to drive what you want when you want and where you want. Is that all there is about it? Nobody is telling you what to drive, but since you're dumb enough to drive that gas guzzling rig, you'll have to walk a little more. 

And they're right, but you probably haven't realized it:

The more people drive fuel efficient cars, the less people will need oil and pollute. I know you are no stinkin' hippie so this last aspect probably doesn't mean anything. But less oil means (tell me if I'm wrong) energy independence sooner, no need to invade oil producing countries (so that would be saving trillions of dollars to your country that could be injected in the economy for example?), less exploitation of the people in these countries, less innocent civilians (including children) killed because of these greed-based conflicts.

But again, you probably don't care about what's going on outside of your town/state/country. 

So my last point might be the only one that will resonate: if you drove a green car, you'd spend less money to fill the tank. And wouldn't you like to have some spare cash to send for McCain's campaign? I heard he needs it.

Busy thinking and planning

and not doing much these days. It's nice and warm in here, and cold and wet out there. I can't wait for the winter to REALLY begin.

Canyon Lake

The sun is rising above Canyon Lake, on Sunday, Spetember 28th.

And I take this picture before disturbing the quiet waters with my filter-pump. I'm also enjoying a few minutes of solitude before the camp wakes up behind me...

As usual the trip didn't go exactly as planned. The Norwegian connection and I took along a new crew so we thought it would be wise to just plan on an easy road rather than following the Romney ridge.

It turns out Princess J had never been hiking, let alone backpacking, and besides the fact that she could not carry much, she was quite a demanding person. It made things a little harder a some members of the crew became maybe a little impatient at some point, especially Junior, who happened to be her tent-mate.

But overall the experience was a good one. 

The hike to the lake took us about 4 hours following Canyon Creek trail, a few miles west of Hamilton. It starts easily on the flank of Romney ridge, then winding through the trees along the creek. The slope progressively steepens to become a quite strenuous climb when carrying heavy backpacks.

We never saw the Canyon Falls, which were probably dry or very small at this time if the year.

We were relieved to finally see the dam that closes Canyon Lake on its east side. 

The lake was half empty. On the west side, there was Canyon Peak, our original goal, about 1500ft above us.

Since our group was not too enthusiastic about going any further, we decided to set the camp on the side of the lake and enjoy the last rays of sun.

For dinner: pasta, creamy mushroom and salmon, and bread and cheese. We had food for maybe 5 days! No wonder the bags were heavy! 

A little cherry bounce, marshmallows in the fire, and a perfect weather to look at the stars...

The next morning, same pace: a lazy breakfast as the temperatures - slowly - climb up, we pack the bags and start our hike down.

Even if we didn't reach our initial goal, it ended up being a nice little week end in the mountains. I don't think I'll ever get tired of this.

Are we going this time?

The week end is (finally) in sight... and looks nice! I feel I haven't seen the sun for the last two weeks. Work, then rain, then.. work again! Powder sugar on the top of the mountains on Monday was a pleasant surprise. But maybe not ready to go skiing yet.

The trip I missed on Ajax was apparently a little rough, very, very icy. Am I ever going to get the pics? I don't know.

It might be the right week end for that trip the Norwegian Connection and I have been postponing for more than a year now... NC was VERY ambitious last summer and said he wanted to climb all the summits of the Bitterroot visible from the valley before leaving. All we did  was maybe 2 or 3 hikes (...). Time is flying, we're all busy, so he revised his plan. 

Now it's down to 1 hike! And we've talked about it all summer trying to find the moment where we'd both be in town, and ready.

Our plan is to climb and follow the Romney Ridge, between Canyon Creek and Blodgett Canyon, all the way to High Lake. Camp there, maybe try to go up Canyon Peak (maybe not) and then hike back via Canyon Creek. Last week was rainy and stormy, but what about this week end?

It might be a little chilly.

And we might not make it all the way since 1) we don't know what the "trail" is going to be like, 2) we will start late on Saturday since we have to say goodbye Friday to J-Boogie who is leaving us for the Ugly Man.

Well, I'll just say this is the plan and we'll see what happens.

titidi...

Looks like the announced trip is not going to happen. I let the guys leave without me today, because I ended up having important "social obligations"... and a little bit of work to do as well...

Oh well. I should get pictures from their trip though. Small consolation.

Back on tracks

The last time I skied this year was on July 13th. This means that on saturday, I'll have taken 2 months off. What a good time to get back on my favorite transportation mode!

I know it might not be the best snow of the year (hopefully) but I hear it calling me already. Last year's total was 35 days. This year, I will try to do better, and in any case go at least 32 days.

So Saturday, we'll head to the Big Hole, spend the night on the shore of Ajax Lake, and plan on skiing Ajax peak (10078) on Sunday. I'm going to have to reopen the ski shop...

King of the Bitterroot

It's funny how this picture makes me feel discombobulated... I have to stop and look at it remembering where I took it to remember that, no, it is not upside-down.

I am actually sitting on top of Trapper Peak, 10157 ft, looking down at Cave Lake. You can see it if you look between the cloud on the right and the cloud at the bottom. Behind, a  ridge looking like a wall, separates Trapper Creek from the North Fork.

The hike up the highest peak of the Bitterroot is not a difficult hike. It climbs for about 4.2 miles, with an elevation gain of about 3800 ft from the trailhead, but, even though the start is scary, every steep fragment is followed by a little plateau, allowing us to recover before the next big effort. The end of the hike requires a little bit of scrambling on sometimes moving rocks - but again nothing terrible. Of course, one has to consider then who one hikes with: it can totally change the difficulty of the hike... 

Well my super-fit friends (I haven't found nicknames for all of them yet so I won't list the members of the happy party I went hiking with), who had just done an olympic distance triathlon the day before while I was probably watching TV laying on the couch, made my day a little harder since I had at some times a hard time keeping up with them.

The effort was worth it, despite the big cloud cover:

Here is the bowl between North Trapper Peak (to the left) and the East Trapper Peak (to the right) that I hope to ski before I leave the valley...

Here a little clearer view of the East Peak, and closer, the false peak preceding Trapper Peak, were most of the scrambling happens.

And finally, when the weather was cooperative enough, we could get a quick look at the Bitterroot Wilderness to the west of the peak.

The chilly temperatures chased us quickly from the summit. Fortunately, since the only two muscles I have happen to be my quads,  my downhill hike turned out to be much faster and smoother... And of course, by the time we reached the trailhead, the sky was (almost) blue and the sun shining. So we did what anyone else would have done in the same situation: we went to the Brewery.

The Yeti, Big Foot, and the bears

Every culture has its scary creatures. Usually, there live in the least hospitable area around, whether it's a deep forest or ominous mountains.The most popular are probably the Yeti believed to be wandering in the Himalayas, or its north american version, Big Foot.

Reading Wikipedia, I had a nice sample of some of them, and I hadn't heard of the majority of them, like the Akkarokamui, a gigantic fish-like octopus-like monster supposed to be in the Funka Bay in Japon, or the Brosno Dragon (West Russia), or the Maryland Goatman.

I think one of my favorites has supposedly been seen mostly in the Pyrenees, the mountains separating Spain from France: the Dahu.

There are various species of Dahu, on these pics, there's the Dahu dextrogyre (top) and the Dahu levogyre (bottom). The two uphill legs are shorter than the two downhill legs which means that they can only live on a mountain, and can only walk on it in one direction. The hunters technique is pretty easy: get one person at the bottom of the hill with a bag, send another one surprise the Dahu: the Dahu turns around and ... loses its balance and rolls down the hill, straight into the bag.

I have personally never seen one, despite many days of hiking in the Pyrenees.

But now, I wonder: does it mean anything?

 I read somewhere that there are at least 600 000 black bears in North America, more than 300 000 in the US. I've been living in Montana for almost 4 years - hiking as much as possible in the Bitterroot, went to Glacier, Yellowstone...

But then, I was worried and did not want to see any. 

I am always careful backcountry, hanging my food, not keeping smelly stuff in the tent, etc...

More and more the people I have been hiking with around my home have been telling me that as long as they are not in a National Park, they don't even bother: the bears associate humans to hunters and don't come close.

So when, two weeks ago, I joined friends to visit Yosemite, I thought that this time I would see bears! 

Well it was still not my moment... I loved the place, even though it was a little crowded... 

Unfortunately my friends were not so much into backpacking, so we just did a car-camping tour. Is it why the bears were still hiding from me?

We also went to Sequioa National Park (were the temperatures were much much higher - good thing the trees kept us in the shade - and again everywhere we could see warnings about bear and mountain lion sightings. 

After wandering on the Congress Trail, where I could not take a picture of an entire tree with my camera, we decided to go see the "jewel of the Sierras" (dixit John Muir): the Crescent Meadow. It looks like the perfect place for a bear, doesn't it?

I didn't see any. 

After we walked around the meadow, a woman jumped at us: "did you see it? did you see it?"

She was very excited. "No. I mean, I don't know. What are you talking about?"

"The bear cub! with his mum, just on the side of the trail you just took!"

My friends saw a black bear just outside of New York. My boss sees bear almost every time she goes to pick up huckleberries.

But for me, bears are like the Dahu, the Goatman or Bigfoot. Maybe it's not a bad thing after all?

I just like this one...

How it all began (part I)

My last weeks have been a little busy and I haven't found time to go out and play... Instead of talking about this time filled with way to much work, I will travel back in time to the days I blame for my addiction. Where and when it all began. 

Or should I say where and when I realized it had began? I don't think I showed any symptoms of the snow virus at first. I was lucky enough to have parents who loved skiing. Every winter we left the city to enjoy the cold and dry weather of the mountains. Since my parents wanted to ski and not just babysit, my siblings and I were going to the kindergarten-ski school all day. I don't remember particularly enjoying these times. I remember being cold and tired, not wanting to carry my skis that were too heavy and would not want to stay together! I did not like the ski instructor because she was not taking care of me more than of the other kids. I did not like having lunch there, because they were serving spinach and broccoli... 

Well I guess I learned how to ski... And started dreaming of being the next world champion. But you have talent or you don't, and champions need talent. I never became one... but little by little my obsession with mountains, speed and snow settled in my mind. I was still the occasional skier, enjoying groomed slopes and hard and heavy skis - the longer, the faster, the better - when I decided that winter was not enough and I could go skiing on glaciers in the summer too. The first trip was planned, August 1996, French Alps. A friend was supposed to come along. However, as the departure day approached, my friend started talking about weird stuff, like hiking up the mountain instead of taking a lift, walking on glacier or snow... Walking in the snow!!!! Why would someone do that! Take your skis and ski down! If it's not downhill, it's not worth it!

Somehow, though, I ended up agreeing to try that kind of stuff that summer instead of going skiing... So, August 1996, French Alps, still, but instead of l'Alpe d'Huez (you might have heard of the place if you follow the Tour de France), it was Chamonix, Argentiere and the Mont Blanc range. 

The scenery was one of the most spectacular I have seen so far. 

[I did not take any of the pictures published in this post - I uploaded them from internet but could not find author info]

The villages are clustered at the deep bottom of the valley, surrounded by giants of rock and ice. There was even a little touch of creepiness perfect for someone in her late teenage years. 

There I was taught how to use an ice axe and crampons, how to tie knots and belay, and how tiring this whole deal is.

I was never an athlete, and not exactly what you would call fit at that time. I was telling my teachers that I did not have breakfast in the morning not to have to run at school and my exercise was limited to horseback riding and swimming every once in a while. I suffered a lot during that week, just trying to keep up with the group. Just getting to the glacier was exhausting. But once on it, it was like discovering a new world. I turned out to be OK at doing this stuff and really liked it. And then, there was this:

This is the Little Aiguille Verte, 11522ft (3512m) and my first contact with the real stuff. The climb was easy (well yes, I was tired and always behind, but it was not technical) and even better, the first part was in a cable car. But I could not describe the satisfaction I felt that day. I thought that if I worked for it, I could probably do ANYTHING and go ANYWHERE one day.

Going down was just fantastic, from the moraine to the bed of the glacier along scary ledges... 

The week ended with a 2 day trip in the mountain (the Tete Blanche was the name of our summit goal), with a night in the refuge Albert Ier. 

This is what the Lonely Planet guide says about the place:

"Precariously perched atop a scraggy crag at an impressive altitude of 2706m, this cliffhanger of a mountain refuge - or rather the stunning veiws it sports - cannot fail to impress".

This was the first of many trips to a hut, the first night in a 24-person bedroom, with the smells and noises it involves, the first time I got up at 4am to go climb a mountain, the first time I walked in the snow with only my headlamp to show me where to step, and the first time I saw the sun rise on a mineral desert, the pink shade painting peak after peak. That day I knew something changed in me and that it would shape the rest of my life. 

Moisturized

Last week end I left the dry air of Montana to meet a friend in Oregon. I had not seen her for maybe 4 years - I guess that's since I moved here. Since she and her husband pretty much introduced me to backpacking, our plan was to meet friday night in Portland, have a nice gourmet dinner, and then head towards the Columbia River. Saturday was going to be a hike to Wahtum lake (starting from Eagle Creek Fish Hatchery Recreation Area, after the Bonneville dam) and hike out on Sunday. According to my friend it should be 14 mile roundtrip.

Well of course things don't always go according to plans.

The first problem was just making it on time friday. I had to run out of work to drive up to Missoula. It's about an hour from here, but I forgot about 1) the construction work on the highway, 2) the fact that half of the population in Montana tends to need to drive always exactly at the same time as me, and I noticed that they are never in a hurry when I am. 

Anyway I was at the airport 5 minutes before the check in time limit, just to see that the plane was going to be 1:30 hour late. No big deal... besides the fact that my friend does not have a cell phone so there was no way I could let her know about the delay. Then another delay in Seattle, where the airport was blocked because of a security breach. I'll never know what happened. But I have to say it was a weird thing to see all these people not moving, just waiting until someone tells them to start moving again.

The bottom line was I never made it for a gourmet dinner (arghhhh), we could just grab appetizers and a beer before leaving Portland.

The second problem was that the hike was not 14 miles roundtrip. It was 14 miles to the lake. Little difference. Of course we saw that at the trailhead, so we could have decided to go somewhere else, but neither of us knew the area so we figured we might as well hike up as far as possible, camp and then hike out the next day whether or not we saw the lake.

For someone who has essentially been hiking in Montana over the last years, Eagle Creek's popularity was quite overwhelming. I was ready to turn around when we entered the parking lot already packed at 9 am. We were not really by ourselves on a trail that could definitely fit strollers. It was nice and wide, more like a promenade than like a pack trail. The day was beautiful though, and the scenery fantastic. As the trail took us slowly uphill (3600 ft over 14 miles...), it became narrower and sometimes was just a ledge on the side of the mountain. 

Here the trails goes under the falls. Refreshing and a little scary:

We kept hiking up the trail, sometimes crossing creeks, sometimes stopping to enjoy the scenery. 

It took us 7 hours (I'm including the lunch break), but we finally made it!

Wahtum lake, elevation somewhere around 3700 ft. I took a quick dip before dinner - miso soup and pasta. A little piece of chocolate before snoring deedles. Sunday was going to be a long day.

And good thing we took pictures of the lake when we arrived, because when I got out of the tent the next day it was another story:

Definitely a rare weather for Montana, but I bet not that rare in Oregon. We could barely see the lake and we were camping on its shore!

Everything was wet. The tent in and out, the backpacks, the ground, the trees, and anything we encountered on our way down. I really don't know much about North American flora so I will not even try to name the plants. 

These ones had huge leaves and little thorns very irritating on the way down.

We didn't waste much time on the way down. We were on a tight schedule. And since the trail was almost flat, we knew we might not be much faster going downhill. We left the camp and walked for 4 hours non stop before our lunch break. It was kind of raining and most of the trail was in the forest with no open space for stopping, ferns and huge plants everywhere. The saturated atmosphere had some sort of mold smell, and that's when I realized that moss was everywhere, on the trees, on the cliffs, everywhere...

A last stop to look at falls

and then back to the trailhead - 6 hours after starting. I just had time to change my clothes, jump in the car and my friend dropped me at the airport. 

The trip back was eventless, my legs very sore, but thanks to Horizon I could sip a Sling Shot along the way, looking at Mt Hood, St Helens and Rainier sticking out of a thick layer of clouds.

I'll have to go there someday. 

Chillin' out

Well it seems that doing nothing is not a good thing for me. I can't remember the last week end I had without a hike, a trip or even a race. Oh I know I really needed it. But I hate it! I feel like I'm just wasting time... I could have exhausted myself again, riding up that hill or hiking up that mountain. But instead I followed today's "plan": crawled out of bed around 10am, did a (very) few things around the house, tried to convince myself I actually did something by going to work for a couple of hours and here I am now, pacing at home. So instead of beginning a sickening cycle of grabbing food in the fridge, laying on the couch in front of the TV, falling asleep, getting up and back in the kitchen, I am going to start that blog I've been thinking about for a while, and that my neighbor has been encouraging. Not sure what I'll talk about though... probably mountain, snow, hikes and ski... maybe other things too, we'll see. And we'll see what feedback I get if I get any.

'ight let's get started. Wish me luck!