Wells Gray Video

Karl's AMAZING video of our Wells Gray Trip. Excellent work!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_sw2IX4o5vU

First annual Ski BBQ

This blog thing is getting challenging. I can never get onto the computer these days since Aric has moved into the office. Only when he's out for work can I sneak in and post photos, etc. So, without further ado, here are some belated photos of the first annual Burstall BBQ. It was Karl's idea to have a snag (?) up top on Easter weekend - good work.

First, the disc (yo) was tossed around, just like at any BBQ.

It becomes painfully obvious that we should have brought a coloured disc (yo) instead of white. Skoki played hardest I think.

An extra work out plowing through the snow.

Thank goodness it's a soft landing.

Tired Tanna.

After the game, the boys took a breather with some cool ones and fired up the Hibachi. The girls reclined and let the boys do the BBQ thing.

Notice Shawn is feeding his dog beer.

The goods at the top of the pass. Looked good even to the veg in the group, and smelled even better!

Just like at any good BBQ, after food and beer have been consumed, someone comes up with a stupid idea. In this case, it involved stripping...

and then skiing.

Shirtless. But thank heavens they have beacons on.

Skoki and Banana restraining themselves from poaching the line.

As if that weren't enough time together, the party continued the next morning with Easter brunch at Heather and Kip's, complete with the quintessential egg hunt. Happy Easter!

Fu Manchu Goes Skiing

After the worst ski weekend ever in Kamloops/Revelstoke, the last 9 days have been ski heaven. A small but happy group travelled to northern BC to Wells Gray Provincial Park for a week of ski touring. Planning trips like this are hard because people have to cancel, get injured, or the weather turns awful (predicted forecast 17 C = bad skiing!). I almost bailed when I heard that forecast last week, and was literally planning a last minute trip to Hawaii instead. Thankfully, I came to my senses, and we had a fantastic week!

Poor Aric is stuck at home studying. He drove out to Golden to meet me at the end of the week, and we skied excellent conditions at Kicking Horse and lazed around at a bed and breakfast. A perfect end to the week.


Ian's 1960 cat to lug us and our skis to the trailhead. He's planning a 50th birthday party for this gem.
The crew ready to roll. Note the Fu Manchu staches sported by the boys.
Snow pits and Rutschblock tests. Stability was actually excellent on most slopes including leeward slopes. Shovel compression was moderate and rutschblock was a 5. Not bad for skiing.



Our first and only sunset with clear skies. The view from Trophy hut.



What you see when you pause in your uptrack (or when you bail into a tree well).



Sastrugi (A russian word, not Japanese as I first thought). Lots and lots and lots of wind.
Karl looking down on Trophy Hut from the top of Sweet Tranny, our favourite home run.
Did I mention it was windy? Touring around in the wind.

Shrapnel, yet another sweet home run.

Kip and his frosted Fu Manchu.
Nick bending the knee in whiteout conditions.
Sweet turns on our only sunny day.

Ah yes, Sweet Tranny herself. Kip's successfully stuck it.

So did Nick.
The whiteout cleared for a few moments of sweet satisfaction as we looked up at part of our run through pristine powder. It's a shame the vis was so poor or you would be able to see the immensity of the terrain lying above these tracks. Then again, you don't really want to think about the giant cornice looming overhead.

Sweet Fanny, not to be confused with Sweet Tranny. This one so named for some not-so-successful air.

We go up...


We come down



Home away from home. Trophy hut.




The huuut. Complete with solar power, a fully stocked kitchen, and a sauna, what more does a person need? The infamous self-saucing pudding. How often do you self-sauce? Before...
After...
Fresh wolf tracks on one of our tour days. We also saw bear tracks on our ski out - everyone is waking up. It must be spring!

How can anyone stand to not live near moutains? I just don't get it. Then again, stay away all of you. I want them to myself. Peace.

Stuck in the Stoke

I'm only posting these clips because I had such an awesome week of skiing last week. Paddy, Jill, Kip, Heather, Aric and I drove a bazillion miles to the Loops for an airway course and some killer skiing, but we didn't even crack the skis off the car! We were delayed on our way out of town by the inevitable spring mudslide in Golden which shut the highway down. No big deal, we'll just ski one day less...

We drove around through Radium, adding an extra hour and a half to our 9 hour drive. The wive's club skinned up Sun Peaks to the amazement of Vancouverites, and skied down shite ice for exactly one run. Then they drank a case of beer waiting for the conference to end.

The trans-canada never did re-open as we found out in Revelstoke. Closed in all directions (!!) due to avalanches and mudslides, we gave up and checked into a hotel for the night. Sounds like heaven, stuck in powderland, but all we got was rain and terrible avy conditions. Nerves ran a little thin as we rescheduled our jobs and lives, but there isn't anyone else I'd rather be stuck with...

Trying to upload video of silliness in Revelstoke...

Cranny

A night in Cranbrook gorging ourselves on Thai food and wine, and reliving the day's excitement restored our spirits for the following day's adventure. Still, noone felt any portent about the day.

Kenny and Aric loading up the sleds.

After loading up the sleds and towing into the trailhead, we lapped knee-deep powder all afternoon. I could feel my quads burning from the skinning and turning but I didn't want it to end. Very little can top a great ski day in the backcountry laughing with your friends. Dinner eventually called our stomachs to turn around, and we skinned up a different route for the last run of the day down an open slope. The snow conditions had not concerned any of us through the day, we had chosen safe, known, treed lines.

As we topped out in the skin track, everyone felt it at once. A drop. We all sank an inch or two in the snow at the same time, our stomachs following. The front of the group heard the "whoomph" that accompanied it. After reconsidering our route and debating the true risk of what seemed like very benign terrain, we traversed across the slope and skiied one by one around the convexity to see our remotely triggered slide. A small one, but with a respectable 60 cm crown, and fresh as fresh could be.

One by one, we dropped into the slide itself, now suspicious of the rest of the slope. As I skiied out the runout, the snow slabbed under me, cracks propogated from my skis and the ground moved as I skied as fast as I could. It didn't actually slide, but it felt like skiing on ball bearings. That was me with the proverbial soiled skipants that Karl refers to!

Once safely at the bottom, we dug a pit and a sheared off slab after slab on a layer of hoarfrost. Then, we got the hell out of there.

Our little slide.

Toured up safe stuff the next day, had a good long run back down and then headed to the city. I've got to start taking more down pictures - I'm just too focused on getting down without falling.