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  • Random 02/03

Skiing Mount Nebo

Friday, May 25th, 2007

Memorial day was approaching fast. I wanted one last ski trip to finish off the season. Despite our poor snowpack in the Wasatch, there were still plenty of options. Shasta? Tahoe? Silverton? All sounded very inviting, but there were three problems: Skyrocketing gas prices, driving long distances, and ski buddies that were rapidly migrating to lesser sports, like lemmings off a cliff.

This group dynamic was enough to make even me question the validity of keeping skiing, and to ponder if my quest was truly the desperate, quixotic endeavor my friends insisted it was. But only for a second.

Then Powder Princess came to the rescue. She could muster enough time off for at least a two day road trip. We decided on wednesday to leave thursday night for Great Basin National Park.

Then the fourth problem surfaced: what to do with the powder porpoise? As dogs aren't allowed on national park trails we had to quickly find her a home. An hour before departure we came to terms with the fact. We couldn't find her a home so last minute on memorial day weekend. We had to change plans. The choice was easy: explore the most mysterious, impressive, least explored range in Utah, the Tushar Mountains.

That was the plan. It was set. Ski the Tushars. We were happy.

And then we saw Mount Nebo.

The summit of Mount Nebo has eluded me for 3 years and a handful of attempts. This trip was different: perfect weather, perfect cramponing conditions, perfect snow stability, pretty close to perfect corn.

Dr. Evil about a quarter of the way up the lookers left couloir.

There was one part of the trip that wasn't so perfect: the crux of our ascent. About 50 ft from the summit ridge, where the couloir was the steepest, the snow slowly decayed away into a thin crust of water ice over loose rock. I'll confess that for the first time in my life I was so determined on reaching the summit that I was able to completely ignore the obviously dire situation. I climbed without thinking, front pointing the ice until it turned into loose rock which turned into scree which turned into muck as the slope angle finally lessened and tired legs refused to front point any longer. I had made it! Now it was the Princess' turn.

Anyone who's ever climbed with the princess knows that she loathes climbing on loose rock. As I didn't encounter a single secure point I knew she was in for a real thriller. Plus she had the added stress of having had to watch me awkwardly stab my way up the rotten detritus of a route first.

I would have taken some pictures of this fine area, but honestly, I was totally gripped. The powder porpoise was quite gripped too. She kept wedging herself between my legs in a frightened state that seemed both affectionate and likely to send me toppling down the steep crack onto christine, who was already busy dodging flying shards.

Back on snow again for the last few steps to the summit. On top, PP was quick to point out that there was no way we'd make it back down our ascent route. We were committed to finding a different way down.

Next stop on the Memorial day weekend road trip: Skiing the Tushar Mountains