The Chicken

The Chicken crashing the Vallée Blanche party in 2013.

The Chicken showed up again on another recent ski trip, so I thought I'd post an explanation:

Once upon a time, a long long time ago, Jeff and I entrained Mike, Kim and Sue in the mountain bike equivalent of a Stupid Ski Tour. The goal was to ride all the way around Donner Lake, staying as high as we could. Well...we did set a shuttle so we could get BBQ at Smoky's at the end of the ride instead of pedaling all the way back up to the top of Tahoe-Donner where we started: meatheads we may be, but we don't miss a lot of meals.

From the Glacier Way trailhead in Tahoe-Donner, we pedaled out the Rim Trail and down to the Castle Peak trailhead which was fun, as always. Then we crossed under the Interstate and things got hard. 

The Donner train tunnels

Evidently forgetting how to actually read a topographic map, we eventually figured out by trial and error that the best way to ride over to Donner Pass from Donner Summit is to jump on the Hole-In-The-Ground route and contour around below Boreal, past the Sierra Snow Lab and up the paved road past Norden to the top before shifting to the abandoned train tunnels. On this day, however, we didn't know that yet and ended up gasping and shoving our bikes up the Boreal fall line to where we could traverse over to Donner Ski Ranch then drop down to the pass on snow cat roads at mach-schnell.

Given that our route was often too steep to ride, we had a lot of time to look around while we wore ourselves out breathing hard. It's always interesting to see just how much crap accumulates under a ski lift: I remember there was a lot of pot paraphernalia that day. And someone had dropped a small rubber chicken that they had inexplicably been carrying to go skiing. Or, maybe they threw it out? The whole rubber chicken phenomenon is really weird and rather disgusting when you think about it. Maybe they suddenly realized that they just didn't want the awful thing in their pocket anymore...

At any rate, The Chicken was kind of nasty-looking, even after a water-bottle wash. Turns out that this skanky look was actually a painted-on feature. Someone tossed the ugly little thing in their pack, probably intending to remand it to the trash when they got home. But The Chicken had other ideas, and it somehow began showing up in all of our gear whenever we'd travel. If it showed up in your emergency repair kit in the middle of some long skin track, of course it made sense to get rid of the horrid thing as quickly as you could bury it in someone else's luggage (or recruit someone else to do it for you). 

The Chicken would vanish for years at a time, then suddenly appear when you pulled out your warm gloves or first-aid kit in the US, Europe, Canada or Mexico. Having no doubt originated in China, that vile chicken is now very well-traveled, indeed.

At least we figured out a way to keep a chunk of plastic out of the landfill, I suppose, but it's not a very practical idea to scale up.

The ill-advised route (Donner Lake is off the map to the right). Better to contour left around the bump.

 

More Skiing Chicken sightings by Kim & Mike in MT, UT, WY:

Peavine!

J&F retired, COVID has us all outside and finally ready to get together again, and it hasn't snowed in donkey's years. Even if it did, the crush of punters makes it impossible to get to the snow. So, after a long hiatus, we're seriously overdue for a return to Stupid Ski Touring!

I've been eye-balling Peavine this season because it actually held a fair bit of snow for a while in December, and afterward has sported the biggest leeward wind-deposits I've ever seen up there. I thought I should ski it when it was white, but didn't get around to it. 

Now, weeks later, if you are coming down from Truckee to Reno you don't see a speck of snow up there. But thanks to the massive December dump and accompanying gale-force winds, there are still thin cornice strips running down the hidden shady side of the ridges. I badgered Jeff for weeks to go up there with me, but--sensibly--he was having none of it.

Today, Kim and I decided to go check it out after, inexplicably, neither of us cancelled. Fully expecting an essentially miserable day, we were delighted to find easy parking, no crowds, sun, warm temps, wildflowers, a pleasant hike, and surprisingly entertaining skiing...but no Superb Owl.

Who? Faerthen & Kim

Gear recommendation: a lounge chair

More photos here.

As you can see, the dog walkers we met were understandably confused. But everything was going well until we left the road and things got steeeeep!

Wildflowers are starting, like this tiny Astragalus.

Over 1K of vertical and more than a mile of distance, with surprisingly fun snow...plus it was hard to get lost.

After skiing, we ordered take-out and sat on the roof-top terrace to admire our line. You can see that there was just one dirt break on the whole skinny route and no tree climbing, suggesting that the day might not actually qualify as a Stupid Ski Tour.

The 2017 Project

A massive water year led to flooding, rain saturated snow, buried chairlifts, ski area closures, and far more digging and water management than humans should ever be expected to do. But it also kept the resorts open well into the summer. As we skied lifts in April, May, June and July, it seemed like even August might be fossil-powered, leaving only September and October to complete a cycle of skiing every month for a full year. Why not? Jeff had previously done a calendar ski year in Europe and declared that he couldn't be bothered, though most of us consider glaciers to be cheating.

Turned out that July was the last lift assist, and the thick--but extremely wet and not solidly frozen--snowpack vanished at an astonishing pace. But there was just enough patchiness left in the Tahoe/Truckee area to pull the deed off without resorting to weekend road-tripping to the volcanoes or the east-side. However, the team had to endure withering criticism from locals (Will Richardson) about the length of our runs, and some random abuse by other hikers on the trail...strangely, some people just don't get it.

There was a fair bit of planes-trains-and-automobiles (actually, binoculars-car-bike-hike) logistics involved to reach the remaining snow, and even to locate it in the first place. By November, the lifts were open again--but just barely--in a maddening return to drought.

Just to be safe, despite the marginal conditions we all made sure to ski in November and December to tag the calendar year, as well as the 12-month ski continuum, since none of our feeble memories could dredge up for certain whether we had skied in the previous November. That means that, technically, our run continues and we could (potentially) extend our record by doing the same thing next summer. Hm...

Who?: Faerthen, Jim, Beth, Mike, Kim.

Gear recommendation: a serious sense of humor.

More photos here.

Grand plans hatched on Granite Peak in June with
Beth and Jeff.

July 4 at Squaw with Mike, Kim, Jeff,
Faerthen, and absolutely everyone else in Cali.

Mike on Castle Peak in August.

Kim on Castle Peak in August.

Mike and Kim drag an unsuspecting friend
up Needle Peak in September.

Mike on Needle Peak in September.

Kim on Mt. Lola in October (not a lot of other
options in that background!).

Mike and Kim on Mt. Lola in October

Beth and Jim (and Starker) find a smooth
patch to rip the first thin new snow of the
season in October.

FF gets early November hop turns
on the road in a rain storm at Sagehen.

Things are tough all over

The past few years have been dire: either no snow, or so much that the ski lifts are buried. Either way, ski touring has been a challenge and we even had to cancel Ski Weekend several times because it was impossible to drive the cat over miles of dirt road.

Is this the future of skiing?

Gear recommendation: a mountain bike.

Sagehen Ski Weekend #10

Packing onto the 'cat.

The destination: Never-Never-Land!

We figured out that this year is the 10th anniversary of Sagehen Ski Weekend!

Everything went pretty well, with only minor tantrums from the limp, I mean Imp, snowcat. Mike must be growing ashamed of his fussy child's behavior in public.

Nearing the top.

Originally conceived by Greg Greenwood (science advisor to Mary Nichols, "the most influential environmental regulator in history") as an opportunity to spend quality time with NGO, business, science and agency wonks, SSW has gradually self-selected into...NGO, business, science and agency wonks who can actually ski! Fortunately, these people are also our friends, even the ones we met for the first time this weekend!

This year, the weather gods were cruel to Tahoe. It's been weeks since our last snow, and the skiing conditions are dismal. But as usual, Carpenter Peak and environs delivered up the best skiing available in the region, yielding sweet pockets of shallow soft fluff on protected, very shady slopes.

So, after gleefully tracking up some of that on Saturday, we decided that Sunday was high time to sally forth and finally tag that long, south-facing couloir across Independence Lake that we've been eyeballing and talking tough about for around a decade: Never-Never-Land.

Not knowing whether the day would prove brutal or possibly even fruitless (read: Stupid), the group split in two with the sensible half that can actually call themselves skiers going off for more of the sure thing: protected, shady snow.

The rest of us forged ahead, dropping a truly miserable shot of breakable crust to reach the frozen lake shore. But as often happens, the ski over and up to the top of the couloir turned out to be not as horrendously steep and painful as it looks. We did have to boot the last headwall bit, but the snow was just soft enough to get a sufficient toe into it. And we were rewarded with perfect corn skiing on the way down!

Reward for staying late and cleaning up!

Monday dawned cloudy again, killing the corn crop and the general level of enthusiasm, so those of us left standing skied in the shady trees again, then retired to the station for afternoon hot cheese.

Thanks for a great weekend, everyone!

Who?: Jeff, Faerthen, Beth, Dr. Jim, Mike, Kim, Sue, Jim, Vance, Jay, Jodie, Steve, Dave, Susie, Mark, Jennifur, Rob, Debi, Joe, ...

FF's Photos.

Future tours.

We've been making good progress on the old list, so it feels like time to update our potential adventures. J & F's weekends are gone until mid-April, but if the snowpack on north faces holds, the longer days might make the following strategems a good plan for late season stupidity.

Anybody have any other new ideas to add?

Squaw to Sugarbowl.

Luther-Tahoe

Job's Peak-Great Basin

• Squaw-to-Sugarbowl: for years, Jeff & I have been thinking about an overnight tour from Squaw, down into the Cedars, then out Sugarbowl. The logistics require getting a North Fork cabin owner involved, which complicates things. But Jeff, Rob and I scoped the crest yesterday while sussing out the new Squaw-Alpine backcountry link-up. It looks like we can actually do this trans-crest traverse as a day tour. A short-ish descent, a long downward-trending slog, a good long skin, followed by...a ski out a groomer. Sounds stupid to me. We could reverse it, if we want to buy ski passes at Sugarbowl, which would be really stupid. But that would allow for a public transit tour on the employee shuttle and TART.
• Luther Pass-Tahoe: This was originally proposed as a Carson Pass-Tahoe tour by the late Mike Colpo, but the man was insane, bless his little heart. This chunk is burly, but might be doable without damaging us too badly. Start just over Luther Pass, climb up to Freel Peak, descend and traverse to Trimmer Peak, then down, down, down, down, down...all the way to Pioneer Trail in South Lake. Whee!
• Job's Peak-Gardnerville: the big daddy tour, with more vertical drop and more heinous shuttling than anything else out there. Plus, we get to cross state lines! From Luther Pass, up Job's Peak, then down into the Great Basin. Maybe we can hit it in spring conditions on the north face descent, though that will probably mean a whole lot of dirt walking to the summit. I think there are some private property issues at the bottom--anybody know?
• Mt. Rose-Glenshire: STILL trying to sort this one out. Is there really no one we know with the gate combo?

Silver Peak to Deep Creek

Dave and the Pink Sunglasses dose up
and dress to impress.

February 10, 2013: Dave's pink sunglasses have been pestering him that it is high time for a Stupid Ski Tour, and we all agreed heartily. Especially since those sunglasses have been on more stupid tours than many of us.

After a tortured e-mail thread that entrained half the population of Tahoe and bumped around the colorful beachball of a brutal Bay-to-Bay tour (Meeks' to Emerald), we settled for the merely inauspicious: a repeat of Silver Peak-to-Deep Creek.

As expected, the conditions on the way up were, um, thin.

And the cold new snow on top of firm crust led to slick and desperate skinning conditions, a situation undoubtedly the result of several SST-ers failing to bring ski crampons; the gods know these things and invariably punish transgressors severely.

Most of us gave up and boot-packed, which wasn't a massive improvement. Tim, already enjoying sufficient suffering from Bali-Belly, gave up the thrash at the first summit and slunk home. Then we all watched out nervously for more plague signs of the Apocalypse when Susie stated that she didn't want to ski anything steep today.

Shortly after this picture was taken, Sue was
heard to say, "Well, I definitely would
have done that differently."

Perhaps because we haven't skied together much yet this season, the noise level was generally high and progress slow as we chatted and laughed incessantly, despite the hateful skinning conditions.

But then something strange and virtually unprecedented on a Stupid Ski Tour happened: the snow on the shady north gullies actually turned out to be tolerable. Heck, I'll say it: it was downright delightful! We couldn't help but "Sierra-Club" through the trees, after Sue explained what that is (skiing along with your arms in the air for no particular reason, hollering joyfully).

We skied down to the Bradley Hut where friends were encountered and a birthday card was created and deposited for a group arriving the next day.

Then a quick skin, some lunch and a reminder from Karen about the benefits of carrying a thermos (yum!). Off for more fast, swoopy meadow hopping that Sue dubbed "moped" skiing: low-power, but great fun as long as your friends don't see you doing it!

Starker hogs the fluff.

Who?: Jeff, FF, Sue, Beth, Rob, Dave, Susie, Nicole, Karen, Tim.

More photos: FF's | Dave's

Beth's gear recommendation:

Ice axes.

Birthday card for Superheroes.

The opportunity to chronicle people like this is why Dave carries
50# of camera gear and a 75-l pack on every tour.

Virginia Lakes Tour

Carrying on in the illustrious, if somewhat flawed in logic, ski-steps of Jeff and Faerthen, Heidi Pesterfield and I decided to get in at least one more stupid ski tour before this 70 degree weather robs us of the little snow we did receive this winter.

After much research, Heidi discovered through local beta that the snow above Virginia Lakes was indeed freezing, albeit barely, and that the road completely open.  (Guess it’s been open all winter thanks to unseasonably dry conditions).  Thus, a 24-hour east side adventure was proposed.  Saturday to Sunday: 5pm to 5pm.

Of course no east side trip is complete without a stop by the Travertine hot springs.  We reached Bridgeport with the last of the Alpen glow and were treated to an amazing show of pink and purple thunderheads.  Heidi was voting for a thunderstorm.  I was hoping it might stay a little drier.

Disheartened by the serious lack of snow.

After deciding the upper tub was too hot and the middle tub was too crowded (we are a bit like Goldilocks), we discovered a lovely new third tub lower down the hillside.  This provided a delightful soaking experience until the aforementioned thunderheads regaled us with a lightning storm.  We decided this would be an opportune moment to exit the water.

After a much-appreciated stay with Heidi’s friends in Mono City, we awoke with the sun and drove back to Virginia Lakes.  We had serious second thoughts as first, the temperature seemed to be steadily climbing from a low of 45 and second, as the lack of snow from this winter became more and more apparent.  However, the temperature finally dropped back to 35 as we reached the base of the lakes and we decided it would be a bit silly to skip the ski tour after driving for 3 hours.

Stupid Ski Tour Rule #1:
Take off skis to hike across
dirt.  Check!

As defined by stupid ski tour guidelines, we first made the obligatory creek crossing and then proceeded to remove our skis in order to “boot pack” the dirt.  We didn’t get to traverse over small trees until the exit.

Final resting place of Heid's ski.  Ok, not really, we staged this photo.
However, we were impressed that it ricocheted through two stands
of pine trees and still emerged unscathed.

Midway up our skin, we decided to do a run on the bottom half of Black Mountain as it was already corning up and it was only 8:30am.  My traditional turns revealed this to be an excellent decision.  Heidi chose an alternative method of descent, as her ski decided it really didn’t need to wait for her before making its way down the mountain.  Thus, the legend of the bum track was born.



The shore of Red Lake is an amazing glacial blue.  Unfortunately
I just couldn't capture it on camera.

Turns down the north
bowl.

After returning the ski to the appropriate foot, we headed back up the north bowl above Red Lakes, finishing the day on surprisingly good corn.  For anyone thinking this sounds like a good idea, go early and go soon, the snow will not last long.

Heidi and Kim finish the day at the late hour of 11am.







Rubicon Peak-Hidden Peak-Bliss Peak-Jake's Peak Extravaganza

February 25, 2012: Jeff put out the call and the crowd responded enthusiastically!

Dave even cancelled his Shasta trip, saving a few of us the inconvenience of being launched into space by the jet stream that touched down on the mountain this weekend.

===============
Hey all!

Up for another day of short skins and epic faceshots? If so, I don't know where one might go.

But if you are interested in something that will be the exact opposite of that, might we want to do one Saturday? If so, what should we do?

Jeff
================

Sue leads impromptu yoga at the trailhead to keep us warm
while Beth and Rob hike back up the hill from the
ridonculous car shuttle.

Shaggy proposed a serial peak traverse on the west shore, and everyone quickly piled on, since all tours on that side of the lake naturally involve an obligatory pastry stop at the Tahoe House.

One of these days we'll tag the highly-desired "(Tahoe) House-to (Pfeiffer) -House Tour". Of course, that means we'll have to figure out an über-contrived way to stretch the 1.1-miles of paved road between the two restaurants into a ski tour that actually warrants two big meals and an optional bar stop at the Bridgetender in between.

Hm. Maybe by skiing all the way around Lake Tahoe?

In the meantime, Saturday's tour turned out to be fun and enlightening despite the molar-rattling frozen ski tracks, and the fact that we all ignored Dave (aka Cassandra) and skied it in the wrong direction. This complicated the shuttle wildly, and ensured that we minimized the decent skiing on the north faces.

When pressed, Shaggy pointed out that he was, "The idea man, not the logistics guy," illuminating the fact that we had neglected to appoint a logistics guy who could be heaped with blistering criticism and assigned the blame for our self-flagellating behavior.

The terrain between these typically isolated touring peaks is interesting and more complex than expected. Also, unexpectedly (and inexplicably), new recruit Karen Morey seemed to enjoy herself out of all proportion to the conditions.

This tour provided an opportunity to cram a season's worth of west shore ski-touring peaks into a single day, since the lean year saw most of us skipping these mainstays of the Tahoe winter diet.

Unfortunately, despite bickering that nearly came to blows, we were unable to come to a consensus on which is Bliss Peak and which is Hidden Peak. The protuberance that most tourers call Hidden is nothing of the kind, while so-called Bliss is. Meanwhile, neither was particularly deserving of the name Bliss this weekend.

Fortunately, the painful jackhammer effect of skittering wildly over frozen ski tracks was largely put out of mind by the piercing, fingers-on-a-chalkboard sound of ski edges scrabbling madly for purchase on the brick-like, frozen chunder.

Kim had some amusing remembrances of the day at Pho 777 Tuesday evening, but--typically--I've forgotten what they were, so hopefully she (and others) will chime in in the comments section.

Shaggy looks for trouble.

Today, a cold storm deposits sucker blower pow on top of the land mines of a dissolute and anorexic snowpack. Jeff, FF, Beth and Sue are off to the Alps, so the 2011-12 Stupid Ski Touring season has likely ended just in time to avoid broken limbs and cracked noggins. I look forward to unexpected posts from foolish, never-say-die team members, though.

Who?
Shaggy, Dave, Rob, Jeff, FF, Beth, Sue, Susie, Karen, Kim.

Mystery Gooch: Richie. What's this?: the last few years, it seems there's frequently a Stupid Ski Touring tag-a-long from the Patagonia ranks. Some of these folks--like Rob, Shaggy & Dave--stick around until we wonder what we ever did without them. Others vanish in the night like scalded cats when the shuttle vehicle door finally flies open at the end of a typical gruel-fest.

Rob tried to warn him, but Richie enlisted anyway and, for one so young, did a masterful job of suffering with the veterans.

Beth's gear recommendation:
Hearing protection and a machete!

Good lord! Can this really be the best snow out here?

Susie popped over the hill to see us skinning DOWNhill
and immediately declared the team in need of an
Arab Spring.