Mcleod peak ski

On Mcleod.

I had a great day skiing Mcleod peak, the highest and most commanding, by leaps and bounds, peak in the Rattlesnake.  I had made a halfhearted attempt on the peak several years ago with Leah and a larger crew, but poor conditions and a less than alpine start forced a turnaround well before the peak.  Things went a lot smoother this time.  I didn't make plans to ski with others, because I had been sick, and didn't know skiing would be possible before rolling out of bed the day of. Starting from the car before sunrise, the tenor of the day was set, with beauty and wonder everywhere.  Beauty in the form of wild mountains, clear, crisp skies, and yesterday's rain drops still frozen to the trees.  Wonder in moving effortlessly over the frozen landscape and finally feeling my body turn the corner after days of sickness.

Frozen ran glittering on trees during the approach.

I had parked a few miles out from the trailhead, but the skin in was fast on packed ice, and the first mile of the trail was packed and quick.  Getting into the hanging upper East fork of Finley creek is quite terrible, with a hard-to-follow meandering trail in the drainage, and a few hundred feet of dry talus to gain the valley.  But, once in, the going was fast along the open southern edge of the creek.   Grizzly tracks got my hackles up, and I couldn't help but wonder if a rare set ski tracks would get the Grizzly's hackles up. From the head of the drainage, about ten minutes of booting put me on a high saddle, and a few hundred feet of scrappy steep skiing and traversing put me below the Southwest face of the peak.  Mcleod was easily ascended by booting the West face and Southwest ridge.

Pretty morning. Ugly approach. About two hours in, and almost to skiable snow.

Bears are out.

I had considered skiing the Northeast face, but deemed it too steep given the icy conditions, and instead skied the moderate South face to the tarn.  The top was severely icy, but it was not too steep, and I was soon cruising smooth, firm corn.  I was well ahead of schedule, and threw in a few extra short runs, climbing and skiing the adjacent east face and a nice moderate rolling run into the adjacent cirque.  The snow was firm enough to boot everything, which made the climbing very easy. After a nice lunch break on the lake, I made one final climb to re-gain access to the exit basin.  The run into the basin was once again very icy, but so it goes.  I took advantage of the firm conditions to make the flat exit in just a few minutes.  From the bottom of the hanging valley, I spent about an hour fighting steep talus, brush, and deep intermittent snow on the trail before hitting the trailhead.  The two mile road exit was all on intermittent ice which was a little sparky but very fast.  And there you have it, a remarkably smooth adventure to Mcleod peak done in 8 hours, 10 minutes with time for a pair of extra runs at a moderate-for-a-sick-guy pace.

Looking back up Mcleod's South face.

Third run.

Climbing for the fourth.

Forth run.  I took it to the lake in the background.

Fifth run out Finley creek.

More Northern Bitterroot skiing

Leah skiing the classic Pinball Wizard gully.

Short days and adequate low elevation snow coverage have allowed for more exploration in the Northern Bitterroot.  It is nice to add a few new tours to the list that can be done in a short day from town.

Pinball Wizard gully from Bass creek
The Pinball Wizard is a well known classic, but there were two interesting aspects to this itteration.  Most importantly, it was my first day out in the Bitterroot with Leah this winter, and it was magical to spend a day in the mountains with her.  Second, we approached up the adjacent drainage to the east of the Pinball, and it was surprisingly fast and easy.  In fact, I think it was easier than going over Little St. Joe, and safer than climbing the Pinball Wizard directly.  A lot of low elevation snow is required to fill in the scrappy bottom thousand vertical feet between the trail and the upper approach gully, but after that it is smooth sailing. Leave the trail just after the second Bass creek stream crossing and follow your nose.

Interesting steep skinning in the bottom of the approach gully.

Getting those kick turns dialed.

We had enough time to spin a short powder lap in the approach gully before bouncing our way down the Pinball.  The skiing was terrible, with breakable crust and impressive avalanche debris in and below the gully.  Oh well.

Leah low in the Pinball Wizard.

Debris.  More impressive and extensive than it looks. 

Little St. Joe, North gully
I rolled out of the trailhead around 5:30 in the rain, excited for a morning out in the mountains, exploring new-to-me terrain close to home.  The climb to Little St. Joe is always long enough to be a little humbling, and it took a full three hours today with moderate trailbreaking above the cabin.  Wildlife was out, with deer and snowshoe hare to keep my company.  I was surprised to find visibility and wind on the summit remarkably tame.  After some sastruggi skiing followed by careful terrain management in the starting zone, I found great powder in the upper part of the North gully.  I skied good powder down to about 6,200 feet, stopping a few hundred vertical feet above the confluence with Sweeney Creek.

... that special feeling you get skinning alone in the rain, waiting for first light.

Good steep tree skiing above the gully.

Looking up the gully.

The 3,000 foot climb out was quite excellent.  The skinning and routefinding were straightforward, and it was great to put in a good trailbreaking effort and get tired.  I skied the northeast bowl to exit, continuing out to the main road from below the bowl.  Having done this once before, I thought that this time might be quicker, but it was just as thick and flat and generally bushwackey as I remembered (1.5 hours summit to car).  I still contend there should be a quick route out from the bottom of the bowl, perhaps farther north, catching a logging road high above the main Little St. Joe road.  I will certainly have to investigate, as I think the northeast run is better than the customary southeast run, and an easy exit from the bottom would make Little St. Joe a more appealing one-run objective.  In any case, I was on the road soon enough, skating the flats and slush and brush bashing in between switchbacks.  8000 vertical feet, done in about 7.5 hours car to car at a moderate pace.

Looking back at a clean track near the top of Little St. Joe.

Presidential gully

To my surprise, Jeff, Jeffrey and Kyle were all keen for a half day exploratory adventure, so we rolled out of the Bass creek trailhead at first light on President's day.

We skied the gully in the center of the photo.
Little St. Joe summit is visible.
The Pinball Wizard gully is just out of view to looker's left.

Kyle set a perfect, steady pace all the way to the top - he broke trail the entire way and didn't stop once during the almost 3 hour climb to our high point.  Damn Kyle.

The days of skiing from the car on snow are over for the year.

From the top (we stopped about ten minutes from the exact summit), we nosed our way into the gully, with one stop to check the map to ensure we were going the correct way.  I had scoped the gully during the Crags outing a three days prior, but I was not sure that it went cleanly.  At this point we were at least committed to having a look.  After a few turns in the nondescript upper reaches, the gull formed. The snow in the gully itself was a bit chunky, but the ambience and terrain were both striking.  There were two tricky spots which were, to our relief, filled in, and we were soon at the bottom.

Kyle skiing, as the gully begins to form. 

Jeff skiing low in the gully.

From the bottom, I crossed the creek and took the conventional skier exit, while Kyle led everyone else on a bit of an adventure on the north side of the creek.  Needless to say, my way was faster, but no-one cared, and we were soon reunited and on our way out to the car and civilization.  I had a wonderful time exploring, and couldn't have asked for a better morning.

Thoughts: I am curious if this run has ever been skied, and would love to hear about others skiing it.  (2023 update:  this gully had definitely been skied prior to our outing)  It takes quite a bit of snow to fill in the mid-gully rock slabs and low elevation exit, but should be skiable during average to big snow years.  And it just seems wrong that a 3,400 vertical foot ski line with good skiing that can be discovered in a casual 4 hour outing should fly under the radar for so long.  So I would encourage folks to consider doing a bit of research and giving it a go sometime, probably soon this year before it melts out.

Bailing into upper Sweeney Creek

I celebrated Martin Luther King day with Jeffrey deep in the Bitterroot.  It felt like an important time to reflect on race relations in light of the recent election, and it was nice to  have some time in the mountains.

Climbing in the South Fork of Sweeney creek on an impeccable day.
Pyramid Buttes in the background.

We headed out from the Bass creek trailhead by headlamp, waiting for the sunrise.  It is always a big climb to Little St. Joe, but we put one foot in front of the other, eventually summiting a little under three hours into the day.  After skiing over the top via the krumholtz laden west ridge, we ripped skins, and skied a good run north into the South fork of Sweeney creek.  The upper 1,500 feet of powder skiing was excellent, with steep glades and a tree lined gully.  After re-grouping, we made a long westward traverse down to the creek and took an early lunch stop.  It is only a short skin to the base of Pyramid Buttes, and we were climbing into the sun in the Southeast gully less than four hours after leaving the car.  To our surprise, the snow had not baked down in the last day or so, and we were immediately faced with thin shooting cracks as we started up.  After a quick avalanche discussion, we climbed another hundred feet and dug a pit to assess.  Even with relatively reassuring tests in the lower snowpack (CT20Q2/3 at 40 cm), there was enough uncertainty with fresh slabs higher on the peak that we decided to bail.

Good skiing into Sweeney creek.

Not feeling it.

It was a little underwhelming skiing the 20 turn run back to the creek, but live to ski another day. With hours of time remaining, we made a quick push into the headwaters, regaling each other with tales of previous bailing experiences.  Next up was an obvious bowl right at the head of the drainage, so we got to work climbing it.  The ensuing 2,000 foot run of moderate rolling terrain and boot top powder was excellent. With  an extra hour in the day, Jeffrey took a big trailbreaking block, and lead us to the top of an nondescript knob on the Sweeney/Lolo Creek crest. The warm, clear views from the summit were unique, featuring the craggiest of the Bitterroot summits all in a line to the south.  Pretty cool. Anyway, the ensuing run was excellent.

Starting down the low angle upper snowfield on the third run.
Big St. Joe in the background.

We skied the obvious knob for our fourth run.

On the knob! Stormy Joe in the background. 

More good powder skiing.

At this point, we had bounced our way all the way to the headwaters, and a simple 1,000 vertical foot climb put us on the Big/Stormy saddle.  My memory of the run down to Bass creek was poor, but it all skied well.  We had to break trail down canyon a few miles, but soon enough we were back on an established track, and enjoyed the very easy exit down Bass creek to the car.  A touch over 10,000 vertical feet done in about eleven hours car to car at a moderate pace that had us pleasantly fatigued at the end.

Heading home from the Big/Stormy saddle.

Thoughts: We could have probably pushed up Pyramid Buttes, but it was nice to instead do something new.  This is actually a great tour, one I would do again.  It does require moderate avalanche danger, but there are a lot of options, and everything flows, aside from shenanigans getting from the Little St. Joe summit to Sweeney creek.  Skiing in the upper S. Fk is vast and it is nothing short of tragic that there is not a Forest Service trail into the drainage.

Sky Pilot and then some via Gash, 2017

Andrew and I rallied out to Sky Pilot mid way through a period of cold high pressure.  Even after throwing around a few more creative ski tour ideas, it seemed prudent to just go for an old favorite tour.  Just a few days after hearing about Ben's avalanche fatality, I was on edge all day.  But it was good to just get out and feel the bite of cold air and mounting fatigue from a full day in the mountains on which Ben thrived.

Climbing above Bear Lake. Ski options abound. Our third run
is visible on the right margin of the photo. Photo: Andrew

We left the car a touch before dawn, and made the standard tour out to Gash proper.  The established track only went to the standard South bowl cutoff, and I think we were the first party past Gash this year, so it ended up being a full day of trail breaking.

Sky Pilot, from Gash, with the shaded North face beckoning.  Photo: Andrew

From Bear lake, we decided to head straight to the North face of Sky Pilot.  To my surprise, two hasty pits revealed only moderately bonded snow interfaces around 40 cm deep, but we continued up through relatively benign terrain to the base of the face itself and dug a third pit.  Extended column tests failed to propagate, and coupled with other signs of stability, we felt reasonable continuing to the summit.  To my minor dismay, chunky wind slabs skied remarkably poorly all the way down the peak.  Fortunately snow quality improved on the rolling terrain back to the lake.

Skiing to the tarn below the North face of Sky Pilot. Photo: Andrew

I had hoped to ski a second run in the vicinity of the lake, and there was just enough time left in the day, so we simply opted for the safest skiers left tree lane above the lake.  It was a big climb to the top, but we cranked it out, and were rewarded with good skiing back to the lake.  The exit climb was long as always, and I had some biting neuroma foot pain, but we were back at Gash soon enough, and the exit ski was fast and quite enjoyable.  By the numbers, 10,800 vertical feet, done in right around 10 hours car to car.

Thoughts:  I still contend Sky Pilot is one of the great long Bitterroot tours.  It was good to get out for a long day, and finally add an additional run to the tour, which makes it into a full and demanding outing.  It was great to get out with Andrew and ski a lot of stuff. For driving, plan on parking at the end of the snow plowing, about 1.5 miles shy of the lower trailhead.