Continuing on from the previous post….

So – as we got down to that big rock where our splitboarders had been waiting for us, we shared some high fives and discussed the next pitch – which was going to be the highlight of the day, and possibly the whole trip. The ramp we had followed up was wide and gentle, with enough slope to keep from being boring. We had taken care not to track the whole thing up, and there was plenty of fresh to get everyone first tracks. According to Seth – probably only one other group had even skied there all that winter, and the blanket of powder on it was looking virgin indeed. The whole skier’s right was in perpetual shade, so you had the choice of light and dry or sunny turns as you wanted, and despite the warmer temps and some of the weather the previous few days, a layer of surface hoar had built up on the surface that was going to ski like frozen air. We were stoked!

The slope was gentle and the stability was good, so Seth made the call and let everybody go for a gang-ski. Tobi and I took off with the others in tow, and it was quickly apparent that this was going to be the best run of my season. Tobi was on my right – no whoops and hollers here – we’re both more of the quiet sort, and we traded turns down the slope – at least once getting so close to one another that our boots touched! (sorry Tobi!) The others similiarly enjoyed the run, and as we made it back down towards that little lake and the bottom of the ramp, we were sorry that we had a climb up ahead of us.

I really can’t say enough about that run. If you get up there, and get the chance, I would recommend it to everyone. You’ll be alone, most likely, and I believe that due to the aspect and sheltered nature of the slope, it would be a good choice for a ski in every situation excepting perhaps summer.

But…..

Make sure you get in early, and don’t waste your time futsing about. We didn’t – and it while the day was still one of the best of trip, what came next was trying and tiring.

We regrouped, and got skins on…went well enough for most of the group….except for two of our splitboarders. Their glue had given up the ghost on account of the cold they had experienced sitting on that rock in the shade. Those of you who have been doing this a while know this….but for those of you new to the game, it is ESSENTIAL that whenever you take off your skins, you do not put them in your pack – or anywhere where they can get cold. This will cause the glue to lose its stickiness, and it doesn’t even have to be all that cold for it to happen.

Some of you might say: “Super-Awesome-Brand Glue” doesn’t do that, and its true, some glues are better than others, but depending on the day, the temps and the age of your glue, it will happen to ALL brands of glue – so proper skin maintenance is a really important thing and not to be skimped on. Having skins that don’t stick can range from being a headache to becoming a potentially life-threatening issue, depending on where you are and the conditions around you….so: what to do?

First – Always take care to keep snow, dirt and water off your skins – especially the sticky side. This can be a challenge especially if the wind is howling about your ears at the top of some really uncomfortable ridge. Practice ripping your skins quickly and folding them over themselves, sticky side together. If you think I am joking about the practice – ask the most experienced in your crew if he or she thinks its a good idea or search YouTube for instructional videos on the subject. Its a big issue!

When you get that done – don’t put those skins in your pack. Even if you THINK you won’t be needing them. Skins should go inside your jacket – and depending on your own temperature and the temperature outside, maybe even under your insulating layer. You get extra points if you jam ’em in your underwear – but beware of the sticky bits if you do that. On the other hand – there is no way to get a Brazilian that is cheaper…..

This will keep that glue soft, warm and sticky. It’ll also keep the water that has certainly gotten into the fabric from freezing up and also keeping you from getting a grip. You’ll need to figure out a way to be sure that your skins don’t fall out the bottom of your jacket as you ski as well. Most of the time – the waist strap of your backpack should take care of that – but I’ve been on trips where a skin was lost without noticing it a couple times – so its worth mentioning. Many ski-touring specific jackets have pockets specifically designed for this – and I really like them. Its one of the main things I look for in a jacket – but your own opinions may vary.

Last point – when you get ready to put those skins on – make sure you get as much water and snow off the base of your skis as you can. A little won’t kill you – but it usually takes hours for your skins to really dry out, so if you’re lapping a shot all day, or sleeping in a tent, those little drops of water can add up – and really take a bite out of your fun towards the end of your trip. If you get to a place that is warm and dry – DO take the opportunity to hang up your skins and let them dry with the glue exposed – but DO NOT hang them over a stove or put them somewhere hot – this degrades the glue, and it can happen quickly!

So – two of our snowboarders – despite having heard this – had still put their skins in their packs, and now were getting pretty much zero grip on their skins. Don’t think I’m blaming them….this is something we ALL DO and almost everyone does exactly ONE TIME…its kind of a rite of passage – and now they’ve done it. If it ever happens again to them, it won’t be because they did something boneheaded.

The rest of the crew – me included – had already slowly started up the rolling hills we had painfully down-skinned on the way in. We didn’t know what was up – but as we neared the top after about ten minutes or so, our guys were still down there and it was clear that things were not going well. As we were short on daylight – I offered to ski back down and see if I could get things going while Seth continued up with the rest of the crew to get into the sun and perhaps down to the boat. I rounded up some Voile straps from the group and took off….

This deserves a side-note as well: Voile straps, as they are called, should be part of everybody’s kit. If you don’t know what they are, google it and you’ll see. They come in a couple different lengths, but 2 or 3 of the middle or longer length are a good idea for everyone. Since one almost always tours with at least one partner – you can usually get a bunch together in a crew that has got their crap together, and with 2  to 5 of these babies, you could probably repair a wankle rotary engine if you had to.

All they are is a stretchy, but very tough plastic strap, with a very simple kind of buckle on them that uses its own tension to keep it closed. You can use them for anything – and ski-tourers do – but the most common thing is to attach skins whose glue has quit. If you put your skin on, as best you can, and then wrap 2-shitloads of Voile straps around them and your ski, and pull them really tight you can get that skin to stay on well enough to get you out of there. I have seen other off-brand straps that are similar, but they get brittle in the cold, and I have seen them get cut on ski edges as well under tension. The Voile-brand straps seem to do better with this, and I have had them last for ages, so while they are not cheap – I would recommend.

Other common uses: busted boot buckles, explodified binding-bits, backpack straps, or even splints for an injured buddy.

So – I got down there, and I see my pals doing this: they’ve got duct tape rolled all over the skins and splitboard of one of the pair’s gear. Since the skins were not sticking – they had been trying to accomplish the same using duct tape. I was both amazed, flattered and forced to laugh all at the same time.

On a previous trip – one of the two had seen the duct tape I keep on my pole, and he had seen how I had used it to fix at least two minor mishaps on that trip. While I do always have a bit around my poles for emergencies – duct tape ain’t for everything – and in this case, the glue on the duct tape is just not up to the cold it will experience in direct contact with the snow. (even SKIN GLUE fights with this, remember?) So it was falling off all over the place. I was flattered that my friend thought so much of my skills that he emulated me, AMAZED that in contrast to my minimalism he had been carrying around a whole HUGE roll of duct tape in his pack all week and laughing at their silver-plastic encrusted conveyance they were creating!

Since only one of them had trouble, I sent the other on his way. Too many cooks in the kitchen is never a good thing, and after attaching the skin on one side with the glue – (lots of pressure and snow-cleaning) I used to the few Voile straps I had to attach the other.

We set off. The glue on the one side didn’t hold for long though – and my poor buddy lost his grip, plopped down on his backside, and partly due to the frustration he was expiriencing, slid all the way back down the slope. I turned around, picked him up – and because I knew time was getting really tight – I sent him back up the hill – this time, without skis!

The skin track had been well-plodded out by now. I don’t know if it was the right decision, but my friend was getting cold, and we needed to hustle. I knew I could catch up with him – and I also needed to be able to work on his gear without him….um….getting in the way. So – off he went – again, quite demoralized and tired.

I got to work. There is seldom a short-cut to success, so I took the time to get those skins off and get them cleaned up. I took off all that duct tape – hard work – and got the splitboard attached to my pack. I scraped all the water and ice out of the skins, pulled up my shirt, and wrapped them around my body. (COLD!) Then, I tucked everything in,  zipped everything up and put on my puffy and zipped that up too.  I did everything I could to be too hot – and then I straightlined it up that hill….again.

Plan worked! I was sweating and working hard up that slope – and I could feel my temperature rising fast. By the time I caught up with my pal – the skins I had wrapped around me were sticking pretty well to my sides!

I didn’t waste time – and remounted them on the splitboard. I thought my troubles were over….but then….

I look ahead and see my other splitboarder buddy has crossed the flatter section ahead, and off in the distance, I can see him trying to get up the next step section. Up up up….then sliding out and down. His skins were not gripping – too much ice on the top of the slope. Watching his progress – it looked really difficult – and the second time up, he elected to take off his splitboard halves and try it on foot. Snowboard boots are pretty dreadful on ice…..he slid all the way back down.

I could see from where I was that he was getting winded. So I shouted over that he should just stop – and that I would come give him a hand. I left my other buddy on his own – sure that he could make it now – and made tracks as fast as I could over to the next big slope where my other friend was now waiting.

I kicked in steps for him. It wasn’t that bad on skis – but he wasn’t getting any purchase – so I used the toe of my hard boots to create holes for him to step on. It worked! Only – I started higher up than I should have – and when my second splitboarder made the slope – he wasn’t even able to make it up high enough for my steps!  So down I went – again….and kicked in the last few steps – while also shuttling up some splitboard parts. My buddies were really tired – and to be honest – so was I! So I did what I could to help.

Up and down, up and down – I hit all those slopes at least twice – also while having to burn up a lot of energy carrying stuff and doing hard work. I really, really wanted my ice-axe to make those steps – and in the future – I think I’ll be a little more liberal in taking it with me. Also – Snowboarders = Knives – Splitboarders really do have less purchase on their gear – so while I tend to think of knives (ski crampons in USA-Speak) as specialized ski equipement, mostly for spring – I’d go so far as to say that splitboarders should nearly always take them.

The route out was no picnic for the snowboarders either….a lot of it was flats – so they resorted to booting it, and the think shrubs near the boat was combat-boarding all the way for them. They reached the boat barely having the will to live – and the cold wind on the ride back didn’t make it better!

Still – the experiences had made for one of the best days out yet, and now, after a few months, we all laugh about the hard work it took to get out of there.

All in all – the trip was a round success. Everybody left a little different than when they came – and that is, after all, the mark of a good vacation.

Compared to our first trip to the islands a few years ago – the scene has exploded. Its not a secret by any means…and it has lost something through this. The isolation and the authenticity of the experience aren’t what they used to be, for sure. Before you think I’m advising against a trip – let me also say that while the Lofotens have surely come closer to the mainstream – that has also brought a lot of good things with it.

This time out – we met a lot of others who are into touring like us. The scene is here, for sure. I’m a bit old for that now – but I still like those people, and its a great vibe. The lodge is a great place – and only the volume of people coming through today can sustain that – so that is a good thing!

The numbers of skiers also make a lot of the other infrastructure issues like flights, boats, busses, etc much easier – and I was glad for that.

All in all – I think we will certainly be going back again someday. If you’d like to go yourself, hooking up with Seth Hobby and Northern Alpine Guides is a good choice. They have good guides, and they can provide amenities that a smaller, or non-local guide cannot. In the end – its pretty cost effective to ride with Seth. He’s got a great operation! Go check it out at Northernalpineguides.com

So for the final day out – Seth had a really big, and special plan for us. There is a particular fjord in the islands called the Trollfjorden – I think if you google it – you may find some information about it from other sources, but it also appears to me that there may be more than one fjord that people like to call the “Troll fjord”….so keep an eye out for that….

In any case – this Trollfjorden, (we’ll assume it is THE Trollfjorden) is the largest fjord in the islands – being something over one kilometer in length, I believe, but in addition to its size, it has a couple of other neat features.

One – it is located far away from any roads in the islands, and is accessible only by boat from the sea. The area around it boasts some of the most alpine mountains the islands have to offer, and here you will find steep spires and chutes that you don’t see as much in other parts of the Lofotens. Because of the isolation, it doesn’t see nearly the amount of traffic as other spots.

Two – the entrance to the fjord is hidden behind a rock, and is, when you approach from the direction of Svolvaer – completely hidden. You will pass by it without seeing it, unless you know where to look, and, I suppose it goes without saying, the entrance is quite small – perhaps only 50 – 60 meters wide at the entrance.

Three – what an entrance! Passing through the mouth of the fjord – your already small boat feels still smaller indeed as you look at the sheer granite walls on either side of the entrance! Climbing them would take a lot of crack-work, and you’d need several pitches at least to get up. The shadows and the rock make the air going into that fjord get noticeably colder and it really does feel like you are entering a hidden fortress. When you think of the word “fjord” – this is what you probably think of.

Four – and this may be the best bit – as impressive and foreboding as that entrance is – after a couple hundred meters, the fjord widens a bit, and becomes decidedly more friendly. The back of the fjord is the widest bit, and there is a dock and a little house there waiting for you to tie up to as well!

No – unfortunately – its not a cafe or bed and breakfast with fairy-made muffins and coffee sweetened with distilled mushroom juice. Its a power station – a hydroelectric station – but a rather inconspicuous one. There is a reservoir higher up behind the station, and years ago the Norwegians built this little house with some turbines in it, and connected the reservoir the house with giant pipes running downhill. These have been well integrated into the landscape – so at very first glance you may not notice them.

The dock – used by maintenance crews, and everybody else – is VERY high, and since the tide can be significant here – you have to give some thought to just how and where to tie up. In addition – if you happen to come at low tide, you’ll have to climb up that dock to get off the boat, which is a breeze, but you’ll also need to get all your gear up there as well. This is not difficult – but you should take care, because anything dropped here is going right into the drink – and you won’t be getting it back.

So – after taking care of all that, we took off up the back of the fjord in the sparkling sunny morning – going around the house and up into the trees and brush behind it. We came quickly to a somewhat steeper grade, and bushwacked as bit going up, first with the large pipe of the power station on our left, and then, after crossing over it, on our right, and then again on our left. There is a small flatter area at the top of the grade, which is probably a small pond or lake from which the power station is fed, and after this, you continue up into a gully with steep walls on both sides.

The scenery is impressive, but even though it was only about 10 in the morning, we were already starting to get a little ancy about the snow. It was warm, and late in the season, even for the Lofotens. We had taken a bit too much time getting the boat out that morning and with a couple of splitboarders in the group, we weren’t winning any speed medals. We doubled up our efforts to get out of that gully before any small slide had the opportunity to bury us deep in the terrain trap.

Exiting the gully, you’ll hit a saddle, where down the other side the hill drops off down to another little lake. On other days, we might have taken the opportunity to rip the skins and get these turns down to that shore – but we decided to keep the skins on and curve around to the left, taking a more gradual route down with benches and some down-skinning to come out at the far end of that little lake, and underneath a ramp going up and to the left behind the ridge now situated to our left.

This turned out to be another mistake. Winding around was not so bad, but all the downskinning and even straight up skiing with skins on was a headache for all of us – and for some of the less expirienced members of the group on splitboards, it was downright hairy. We all made it just fine, but the percieved advantage of not having to rip the skins and then transition again at the bottom did not materialize. We were already kind of tired, and the skiing with loose heels and carpet hadn’t been any fun anyway.

I’m starting to think that one day, I’ll learn this lession. It seems to me that every time I decide not to transition, whether it be from climb to ski or the other way around, just because I think it will be a hassle and that I will be able to compensate using some other technique – I end up regretting that decision. I either end up just dead tired, or hurt, or both. If we had ripped the skins leisurely  at the top, we’d have had a couple of really nice turns down the side of that saddle, through really interesting contours. We would have taken less than half the time, even with the two transitions – and we would have been fit and rested. I wish I could say lesson learned – but not very long after this, I had a similar situation and I again decided on leaving my skins on. In that case, I tried to navigate an extremely steep slope and slipped. Having very little edge hold due to my telemark heels – I kept on sliding, until I hit rocks, which only had the effect of launching me into the air over a small cliff. I broke some ribs and some gear, but in the end I was very lucky. It could have been worse. I think the lesson is that despite all our belief that efficiency is something you learn, it is also very much a question of choosing your tools, and that no matter how fit, or good you are, choosing the wrong tool will doom you to be slow and awkward – and that there are no real shortcuts in backcountry travel.

We took a break at the lake, and had a bite. The ramp above us had not been skied all season, and was filled with dried out surface hoar that would be a dream to ski on. The bottom half, especially off to the left side (going up) was all in the shade, and despite the warm temps, in there it was cold!

We made time getting up that ramp. It has a nice angle, not too steep, and above all, very constant. We preserved the snow for our ride down and made sure our kick-turns left lots of fresh for everybody in the group.

Coming out of that ramp into the sunlight was magical – with a small cirque going almost all the way around and views of the ocean in the other. Prominently sitting in the middle of this relatively flat area is a large boulder – transported there by gravity or by some long-melted glacier. Its big enough that ten people could picnic on it, and around the back the snow had collected in such a way as to allow you to go up it without even taking off your skis. It sits naturally in your path, and you are drawn to it.

Once there – the splitboarders in our group had decided that this would be their high point for the day. While I have no problem riding with splitboarders, and don’t care for endless arguments pro or con, my expirience is that they have a lot more work to do than your average skier to get up the mountain. There are a couple of reasons for this, but I think the biggest is the lack of a walk function in their boots. They are a lot stiffer than most imagine, and they have a significant forward lean. When I watch my wife walk, I can see that her forward stride is limited because she can’t really bend her ankle backward like I do when I take a long stride forward. She ends up taking 2 or 3 steps for every one of mine. For this reason, we’re going to experiment next season with a hard-boot setup for her. A soft hardboot is not much stiffer (if at all) than a snowboard softboot – but it has the advantage of a walk function. I am pretty sure that a TLT6 or similar coupled with a dynafit binding or comparable system would be a much easier to use package. Stay tuned for our expiriences!

The skiers took off to gain the peak behind the boulder. It was up a steep incline, and in a couple of places, you really needed to know how to do those “backward kickturn” things. I’ve spent my share of time wallowing in the past – so I’ve got it down these days, but despite this, I really can’t help anyone else that much, except to be patient and encouraging. Sure – if you want, I’ll give you tips – but like so many things in skiing and life – you really have to figure it out on your own. There is no learning except self-learning.

I’m always fascinated by this. I’ve spent most of my free time and all of my daydream time skiing since I was a teenager – and yet – if you asked my how I ski – I’d be hard pressed to tell you. I could give you some crap about weighting and unweighting, pushing with your pinky-toe, plunging your knee into the tips of your skis….all that, but I don’t really believe that anyone hearing that could really ski better. Nor do I really believe that is what I am doing when I am skiing. Certainly it is clear that if I actually thought about all the stuff I do when I ski, I’d screw it up. Its far too complicated, and it happens too fast.

I’m a nominal Buddhist – and skiing is why. For anyone out there who is not a skier, you could easily write it off as flaky, but if you’ve spent even just a little time with Buddhist philosophy, it would be hard to ignore some of the parallels that I see and feel with those ideas and how my body and mind react when I am skiing.

A thinking skier is a poor skier. You can see this every day in adult beginner courses at every ski hill in the world. Adults have trained themselves to “learn” stuff, to “pay attention” and many believe skiing is a skill – perhaps similar to embroidery – that they can see, understand, and emulate. They stiffly stutter and control their way down the slopes, and you can see it from a mile away.

Compare this to children. They are not better learners than us – I don’t believe that. My kids still don’t know that when they eat a whole bag of gummi bears in three swallows they will get a stomach ache – but they ski, most of them, with a grace that comes from no teacher, and they “learn” not by “getting it right” but rather by letting go.

That’s not saying that kids are great skiers right from the bat, but I have seen that the less they are conditioned to “learn” skiing, the better they are, and the faster they improve.

I also find it wonderful that as your skiing gets better, you seem to concern yourself with it less and less. It doesn’t so much become second nature as much as it allows your true nature to just be. I know that when I am skiing – I am not just not thinking about work, or other stuff I don’t like – I am really and truly not thinking at all. Nothing. In most of Buddhism – this is the end goal of most forms of meditation. I can’t really get there sitting on a mat – but it seems to me that with the first rush of the snow under my bases – I am gone, long gone from the everyday world and that if there is a zen-like state – I find it when I ski.

All that just to say – keep un-learning those kickturns and soon, they’ll happen all by themselves!

The “top” was really a long, sloping extremely flat plateau, with great views of the mountains and sea all around. We slogged it up that plate and posed for glory shots in the 366 degree sunshine.

We didn’t hang out too long – our friends were back at the rock – and by now – their little spot in the sunshine had turned to a freezer in the shade. It was the middle to late afternoon now and we needed to make a move.

We took the long ride down and made some Euro-Wiggle down the slope we just slogged up. Nice. The pow was virgin and the stable weather along with the sheltered nature of the little couloir / ramp we went down had allowed the top layer to become a nice bed of hoar – which is a disaster if there is too much, or worse, it gets buried and becomes a bed of ball bearings for slabs on top of it – but in the right amounts is a dream to ski on and as long as its all on top, not really a problem avalanche-wise.

We met up with the crew. They were already transitioned and ready to go – but had gotten quite chilly sitting in the shade.

This is where the real skiing began, and also – the start of our great adventure!

More to come!

After a night spent playing Cards Against Humanity – we all were ready to get back out into the good snow that the Lofotens were offering us. We weren’t going to have quite as much luck with the weather today – but we didn’t know that yet…. Still – as an interesting aside – those games of Cards Against Humanity provided no end of insight into the various mentality differences present on the trip – and a combination of incredulousness and laughter. For anyone out there who’s not familiar with the game – its a card game, currently a hot item in the US, featuring cards with various chopped up phrases or bits of phrases or names on them. The object of the game is to form sentences or statements using these phrases by adding them to a “starting phrase” drawn at the begining of the round. At the end of a round – everyone has provided what they believe to be their “best” answer – and the person playing whose turn it is decides which of the answers they like best. As you can see – the game is very open-ended, and what consitutes a “good” answer is completely subjective. This leads to lots of laughter and conversation – which is exactly what a good game is supposed to do. Its a blast and a good choice for games to take on a hut trip – as it is small like a deck of cards – with no bits and bobs to play like dice. During the course of our games we discovered that the Germans were generally interested in making locical and “correct” statements – quite often having to be extremely clever to do so – while the Americans were chiefly interested in expressing statements which are taboo or similarly politically incorrect. I can’t say I was particularly surprized – I’ve learned a lot about the Germans living with them for 15 years…. What DID surprize was the coolness with which the Germans responded to genuinely teeth-sucking themes. Statements such as “When I visit my grandmother I….. “make sure to take a condom.” were greeted with jaw-dropping by the Amis – but the Germans calmly nodded and said: “yes – that is a good use for that card. Can you pass me the beer?” No emotion. None. Next hand.

Tyler and Kortney – the only Americans in the group who still live there, spent the next days continually revisiting this topic. One the one hand – the Germans showed no interest in CREATING cawdy statements – but on the other – could talk about HORRIBLE subjects without so much as blushing. So – back to skiing. We took off under cloudy skies for a tour near Torskmannen – one of the more popular tours in the Lofotens. We had chosen not to go to Torskmannen though precisely because it gets quite a bit of traffic and we had hoped to get to a more secluded spot in the area. All around Torskmannen are some nice peaks. To get there, you drive toward the mainland from Svolvaer, about 20 minutes or so. There is a ninety degree turn to the right in the road with a smaller road branching off to the left – and you’ll want to take this left turn. It is right after a bridge crossing a small fjord – and there is usually a cute little wooden fishing boat moored on a buoy in that fjord with a tiny little pilot house. The road you take to the left is where the power station is – and people gernerally park by the powerstation to go up Torskmannen. (Don’t block the road or the entrance!) Poke around to find other spots – just open your eyes!

Anyway – our secret spot was mobbed! A group of twelve South-Tyrolians and their guide was skinning up when we arrvied – but we decided to get at it anyway. In true Euro-Dick style they spent most of the uptrack skinning beside us – neither passing nor falling back – just tracking shit up and making us feel like a problem. Eventually we took a break and let them have it. The snow was sketchy in spots. There was some wind-blown that was quite nice, but then you’d have patches of wind-affected and even bare ice in sections. We all knew that the ride down was going to be less than magazine-perfect pow – but as we topped the ridge – the weather hit like a bomb. Within a minute – the wind picked up, and when I dropped my pole, I had to dive after it! Such was the wind on that little ridge. Then the snow and clouds came – and we were in a whiteout, with no visibility and very uncomfortable. We had intended to continue on, into a small depression and further climbing to a peak, skiing down the other side and then skinning back up to the ridge on which we were standing and on out home. But the weather was so bad – that even after waiting it out for about ten minutes, we called it. Waiting just a few minutes in the Lofotens can make a big dfference – as often, the weather moves in and out in waves. Five minutes of heavy snow and crap – five minutes of sun. This can put a big burden on your outerwear, of course, as it has to handle everything, but rarely is the weather constantly bad. If you take a look at the weather patterns which affect the Lofotens – you can see why. They sit at the polar confluence zone – meaning this is the band where polar air mixes with temperate air. All this difference makes for turbulance, and alternating bands of snow, rain, clouds, sun, and everything. They roll in all day long, and rarely are the bands very wide – so your weather changes constantly. Of course – when the winds are blowing from the north-west, that means they are more polar in nature, and they tend to have less moisture in them, so any precipitation you do have is lighter, colder, and less long-lived. Should the winds be coming from the south-west – they are more temperate – bringing more moisture, and often heavy cloud. If you get these winds – it is more likely that the weather you get will stay longer – so it makes sense to pay attension to this when deciding if you want call it a day in the islands. During a small break in the clouds – we saw that group of Italians trying to come back down the slope beyond the ridge we had intended to go up as well. What a junkshow. The group was far too large for one guide (a trend I’ve seen more and more) and in the whiteout everyone had become separated. They were scattered all about the hill, with many having skied too far down the slope to return to the ridge we were standing on without skinning back up. Some were as far below as 150 meters! Worse yet – when the clouds lifted – they all thought better of their decsion, turning around en masse to try and keep climbing to their original goal of the peak. Of course – 5 minutes later the clouds were back, and we could hear them shouting to each other trying to reform the group and go back down to the ridge. Again. We made the best of it and took our window to make some turns down the face we had come up – and as we did, we got pretty good visibility and a few spots of pow. It was good – but the best part was getting out of that cold, biting wind.

We found a spot near the bottom and grabbed a bite to eat – wondering still if the weather would clear and we could go back up for another pass. Things weren’t looking good though, and the cold and the hot waffles waiting back at the lodge made the decision to cut the day short pretty easy.

Before we went though – we scored some Gnar points by going in for some extreme pole-wacking.