We clipped into our skis and I started down the steep snow field to see what the route entailed. After descending fifty feet I reached the rocks and was dismayed to see nothing but air on the other side. This was a dead end and a bad one.
After talking a big game all season, Rafee finally found himself a ski touring setup and was looking to break in his new equipment.
First choice or second, the skiing was delightful. The slope was not as steep nor the snow as deep as I’d found the previous day in the Bloody Couloir, but perhaps it was all the more enjoyable!
The snow was soft and wintry and deep! I left my jacket open, but snow was flying up into my face and into my jacket — who would have guessed there were faceshots to be had in April!?
I had been leading the hike for the last two hours and when I crested this rise I jokingly shouted “oh no!” However, as I looked, I instantly regretted the joke. This was indeed a false summit, but the true summit was even further than I possibly could have guessed.
I had second thoughts about deciding to bring my “fat, fun” skis rather than my narrower “mountaineering” skis for which I have ski crampons. With ski crampons, I would probably easily maintain my initial pace of 1,500 vertical feet per hour. Instead, it would take me two hours to climb the next 1,000 ft.
Along the shore where we stood, the trail happened to be littered with great skipping rocks (a rarity in the Sierra!) and Rafee and I spent a couple minutes lobbing rocks out onto the ice and reveling in the alien sounds produced.
Alas, after several weeks of searching, I’ve been unable to find my SD card from this trip…
Iris shouted up “Ooh! AJ’s going for bonus points!” Apparently there was a much easier route down, but I was enjoying the climb and it seemed like the more complicated climbing was successfully distracting my mind from the pain in my legs.
Sean had written that he summited at 10:40 am, more than three hours earlier! Even better, according to the entry, he’d left some cookies for us!