Nick, a totally cool local who works at Valhalla in Nelson, took us for our first backcountry (BC) trip. No Backcountry for Old Men.
The trip began Friday night with a suggestion then a flurry of organising to ensure that we had full avalanche kits (beacon/transceiver, probes, shovel) as well as snow shoes and poles to get there. The excitement very quickly gave way to nervousness and a lot of questions about avalanche rescue technique, beacon reading, safety precautions and myriad other questions.
I tell you what, if you're going BC into avie territory, you want someone like Nick. The man is so safety conscious and knows what he is on about. He was talking about doing some guiding and if he does, and you come here or wherever he is, engage his services. The man's mountain knowledge is awesome. And he is so calm and matter of fact.
Anyway, the snow fell throughout the night, and Whitewater in their typically understated way of reporting, reported 2cm of snow. 2cm my bum.
We warmed up on groomers, covered in fresh snow, as more snow continued to fall from the heavens. We then made our way to what is known as Shortside.
What followed was some incredible tree rides through soft pillow lines, and constant hooting from the three of us. We found this. The angle I took these from don't really do it justice, next time I shoot from the side.
And did this.
Nick method shifty I think
Packy straight air.
After two runs of this, with a short hike or hitch (thanks guys) out, we had lunch. I need to talk about the stunning food. Simple and so wholesome. I had the Glory Bowl which comprised brown rice (perfectly cooked), a peanut curry sauce, shredded carrot and beetroot, spinach leaves, then unbelievable cooked slivered almonds, some sort of magical garlic mayonnaise through the almonds and then an amazing mix of locally made tofu (deeeeeelicous) and tahini. It was simply magnificent. Finished off with a pecan and sultana tart. I just wanted to sleep.
Unfortunately, or, should I say fortunately, it was time to hike. We headed off with backpacks (very heavy) and soon reached our up-point. We got into our snow shoes - after about 5 minutes I bought a pair of Nick's. This going to make BC Hotham soooo much easier (this means you Avalanche Gully). The hike was very hard work after the first part. We moved steadily uphill into trees, surrounded by light grey skies which were just filled with an incredible amount of snow. Golden light poked through the clouds and gave form to the snow which looked like tiny black flecks swirling every which way - almost like a plague of miniature floating locusts. It was magic.
We eventually got to the top of the bowl and I was blown away. Epic, steep terrain. BIG cornice drops, even a mandatory 75 foot drop into 60degree terrain with randomly populated trees. Gnarly stuff. We checked out a chute I want to do before we go, where the entry point was steep enough into ~45 degree pitch on a narrow width then into a nice apron through some mellower pitch. Awesome stuff. Nerve-wracking, but awesome. Probably similar to some of the chutes off the main ridgeline that goes across to East Peak at Big White.
We eventually went for a slightly mellower pitch (around 40 degrees I was told, maybe a tiny bit less) but what made it tricky was cloud rolled in, removing the definition providing by the snow.
...then light went completely flat. And I mean dead flat. Very disconcerting. This made the drop-in a little, well, not terrifying, but nerve-wracking (as we didn't know the terrain). The significant additional weight on my shoulders added a little to the ill-feeling as it threw my balance off about and limited my ability to really throw the board around and pop in and out of turns easily.
Nick dropped off a little band higher up and hooted down. Packy went from the left of me and rode across the top of the chute to let his slough run down.
I popped down, let my slough run out (actually rode about a foot of slough down for a bit), until I could see, then punched it. Oh. My. Dear. Lord. What followed was a giddying, transcendental experience. With the removal of visual definition, all I could feel was my tail in the deep deep powder, and little bouts of floating as the ground dropped away from me. As I couldn't see, I couldn't soak up drops through the knees, or brace for them, so it was almost a completely blind experience, just removing sight as a sense, and relying on feel. It felt like I was flying through the clouds. It left me speechless. I eventually got beneath the cloud to the others and sunk to a stop in knee deep dry snow. We moved across a small ridge to the top of a chute with a reasonably steep slope and hit that. Josh and Nick smashed a tree drop to pillow and I followed wide into untracked snow. We took turns leapfrogging down so each person got to go first.
Unnnnnn-believable. We eventually got to the bottom. I looked longingly back up but the poor weather precluded another hike. Additionally it was absolutely vomiting snow. I've seen some incredibly thick snow mid winter at Big White but this was heavier. Everyone had a big green and it was just a dizzying feeling. Delirious with joy and excitement. What is it about heavy snow that does that to people. Is it because it is seemingly so magical? A magical gift from the sky. Even though we spend so much time on it, and know alot about it, it is still a source of joy, a cause of deep abiding contentment.
We dumped our BC gear except avie beacons and dumped a car at the bottom of Shortside down the road then took the Summit lift back up for one more run. Our old tracks had filled in with about 2 inches of snow, and we followed roughly the same line and came out right at the car.
I am amazed at how both our riding has progressed. Josh is riding fast and hard and I feel very confident riding hard in the trees and aiming at small pillow lines and trees for air. Good stuff.
Heavy snow, and stoked.
We finished the day off with WH20 lodge nachos and some Jager then took off home, finding Alex for a lift again.
Life is grand.
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