Ski Hayden and playing Catch up

Well once again I'm running late on posts and I'd like to say it's because my computer has been on the fritz, however in all reality it's been because skiing, climbing, hot tubbing, hut tripping and working on back country ski blading sponsorships have taken priority. Hint: some topics to come!

Gunning for the summit. Photo by Steve Denny

So nigh on a month ago I began chatting with my buddy Steve who is also an Aspen resident about skiing a local classic ski descent on the peak Ski Hayden (Not Hayden which is adjacent). He had gone up previously and knew roughly where the skin track went and some of the avalanche concerns specific to the terrain on the peak. So after doing a modicum of research and waiting about 4 hours I replied that I was psyched and ready to get after it when ever he was. Thankfully, for us back country skiers January and February were extremely dry and warm months. January being the second driest month on record since 1935, which resulted in extremely stable (read: there was no snow) snow conditions, allowing us to ski terrain that on a normal year would be too dangerous to even consider.

So my next day off found me waking up in the van, at the Ski Hayden Trailhead up Castle Creek Road, sipping coffee and trying to limit the ever increasing levels of psyche. Steve pulled up and we quickly slapped on skins, boots, skis, and packs and set off post holing downhill to the creek were we found the skin track leading up to the summit.

Three hours of chatting about the usual topics, snow conditions, women, fine whiskys, the hard life of Aspen, women and snow conditions we found ourselves on a final bench a few hundred yards below the summit. There were really started discussing the snow, a rock hard wind slab that was lightly iced over. Sure these conditions might be fine for some of the folks that grew up skiing in the Midwest or on the East coast but we were there to have fun not embrace our survival skiing skillz. So after a little debate we traversed over to check out some terrain to the east that we thought might harbor some soft sweet powder that would ultimately lead back to the trail head. After traversing through rocks and wind scrubbed grass patches we peered over the edge. Much to our chagrin we found more rocks, bigger rocks and gullies that seemed just as wind scoured as the basin we had just traversed. So we said "screw it, lets go to the summit." And so we did, with a few tense moments when an ice axe might not have been an unwelcome friend and lots of boot packing up a 50ish degree ridge we summited.

Skiing off the summit. Photo by Steve Denny

Steve's watch declared it had taken us about three and a half hours from vans to summit, we were psyched, although having anticipated this adventure taking much longer I began to contemplate what the heck I was supposed to do with the rest of my day, but then I quickly snapped back to reality and the stark beauty that surrounded us in every direction. After sandwiches, whisky and a few quick photos and a ton of just soaking in the psyche of summiting and being able to hang out in a t-shirt at ~13,000 ft in the middle of January we decided it was time to go down.

De-tuning the skis. Photo by Steve Denny

We snapped in and skied the upper portions that had worried us earlier with the hardness, only to find that the winter sun had softened the snow and turned terror in to pleasure. After clipping a couple rocks, a quick stop was made to de-tune my freshly tuned skis, had forgotten to do so before leaving, whoops! A few more turns, lots of hoots and hollers of stoke found us ready to ski about four miles back down the skin track to the vans, cold beer and shortly there after some hot tub time. The final descent was at times terrifyingly fast through the trees on an icy skin track, super bitchin' going off of pillows on downed trees and exhausting as I tried to manage my speed sans edgie wedgie.

An hour of skiing later clocked us in at five hours van-to-van and ready for a cold one. A bit of reminiscing and scoping out the lines we'd just skied left us quite happy and ready for a nap and plans for future adventures.

Victory Tin Cup Whisky!

The price of not dodging the snow sharks,
Tis' but a scratch!

Living in Ski Pants and why it's kind of awesome.

Another day up the Fryingpan.

Time and time again this winter I find myself trying urge my body on to keep up with my mental ambitions. Whether it's skinning up multiple resorts a day, venturing out into the backcountry with dear friends or some combination of those and the unknown. With the tally of these days stacking up I find my self increasingly appreciative of my ski pants. I realized recently that I have only one pair of ski pants, they're comfortable and functional and I could not ask much more of them.

For instance recently before work I ventured out with one of the shop's reps to demo some prototype skis in some nearby mellow backcountry. Pants on and it was go time with a quick lap in and a couple descents the pants were warmed up for the upcoming days off.

Day two in my ski pants included a quick skin up Buttermilk (one of the more mellow local resorts that allows uphilling all day) on a demo race setup, which literally allowed me to run with skis on. I must admit that they were a bit squirrelly when taking them off jumps since they weigh only a few ounces but it was worth it for the uphill. After a quick lunch/beverage break I moved over to the next resort, Aspen Highlands for an afternoon skin up to jump on some lifts and ski with some friends. After skinning up a couple mountains my pants had certainly earned a quick beer at the local brewery before hitting the town.

A glimpse of the pants themselves! 

The next morning finds me nursing a headache while climbing into my ski pants trying to get my act together to meet a ski partner to ski a newly discovered backcountry zone. Fast forward a couple cups of coffee and few advil and a bunch of psyche and there we are skinning up the remnants of a prior visit's skin track to score a few crusty and a few powdery, miles from the nearest people. After a lap I found myself in the Glenwood library in front of the computer in my slightly less than clean ski get up for a nice skype date before hanging out with my uncle and an early bedtime.

Day 4 finds me embracing my freegan beliefs in the lift ticket line in Vail where I was able to score a lift ticket and ride the lifts all day with my cousins and uncle, no doubt my trousers and hip flexors alike were delighted to not be bushwacking through scrub oak and conifers and instead to be soaking up the rays on a bluebird day at the resort, slaying crusty bumps and corduroy with impunity.

Sam's misadventures - Bringing in the New Year with some Pow

On New Years Day I went up to Williams Peak down in Glenwood town with the lady friend and Mr. Angus Morrison, the man, the myth, the legend to score a few pow turns! With some splitter weather, no crowds and some untracked snow made for a stellar tour. With Angus having scouted one particular zone earlier in the week we were privileged enough to hit a couple bigger pillows and enjoy some mellow tree skiing. The day after was followed by a repeat adventure hitting similar pillows, slaying similar powder, with Andrew and yes, still suffering under some stellar blue skies and (in the sun) delightfully warm temps. Not a bad couple days when you can get out with some of your favorite folks, score some turns and sip some whisky all within a half hour drive!

Gear used included:

BD ascension skins

Dynafit speed radical bindings

Patagonia Cap 2 base layer

Scarpa Maestrale RS boots

Osprey Mutant pack

The rest of the photos would not load but can check them out here and here!

Photos by the illustrious Ms. Taryn Pearce