Bryan: Well, we’ll find out pretty soon…
Me: If this is a bad idea?
Bryan: Yep.
We had been assessing the snow quality for the entire two hour approach to the base of the climb up to the couloir. As we skinned from the car along a wide road that suddenly narrowed to a hiking path, the snow progressively got deeper and “better”. Sure, there was some nice, fluffy, fresh powder from the snowfall overnight. But only about 5 inches below this delightful powder was an undeniable crusty layer. And that crust varied from mildly crunchy to rock hard depending on where we stabbed our ski poles. That’s a very quick and dirty and non-scientific way to determine snow quality and how much “fun” our impending ski turns are going to be. To understand what I mean about this, think about baking brownies. When the timer goes off to signal that the brownies are done, you stab the brownies in the middle of the pan with a toothpick. When you remove the toothpick, what does it look like? If it’s clean with no gooey, unbaked batter spindling off of it then the brownies are finished baking. This is a “good” assessment. If the toothpick is a gooey mess, this is “bad” because they’re not finished baking. Now let’s apply this to snow evaluation. If you stab the snow with your ski pole and it comes out clean when you remove it, that means the snow is dry and fluffy and your ski turns are going to be so tasty that you’ll be salivating for the rest of the day just thinking about it. If, on the other hand, you stab the snow and your ski pole removes a crunchy crust or gooey slush, then you are going to have a very memorable day but for very different reasons. In short, rather than a smooth, creamy ride down the mountain you are going to feel more like you are riding one of those mechanical bulls in a cowboy bar. Does this sound like fun to you? Hold that thought.
Now let’s get back to the couloir. On the climb up we were increasingly hopeful that we would find some “good” snow in this narrow chute. After all we did find some great pockets of fluffy powder in places as we zigzagged our way higher and higher up the steep slope. We also found a lot of nasty crust but why dwell on the negative, right? I guess we figured there was just as much chance of finding powder as there was of finding crust in the couloir. And the sun was shining so bright that it cut right through the cold air as it warmed my face and hands. It was a beautiful day. So why not just take the chance and go for it? What’s the worst that could happen? As it turns out, it was both a bad idea and a great idea. How could it be both? Well, there’s a simple answer that explains this very clearly. Perspective.
The pure, raw sensory input that we were getting from the snow conditions was objectively bad. Actually, it was downright horrible! As we entered the bottom of the couloir we immediately realized that we had to remove our skis. The snow was so steep and hard that our skins could no longer “bite” to give us any grip. It was like trying to walk up a sliding board that was just freshly greased with wax paper (remember doing that as a kid?). So we took off our skis, attached them to our backpacks and started kicking steps up the steep, snowy funnel. And this is where things got really interesting. One step would plunge us to the depth of our hips while the next step would feel like kicking into concrete. Unable to find any sort of rhythm we simply decided to drop to our knees and pseudo-crawl-kick our way up the slope. After about 50 ft of this nonsense we managed to burn about 5000 calories while going exactly nowhere. We barely got a quarter of the way up the couloir and the snow just kept getting worse. The snow was so bad, in fact, that we realized that we would have to slide down much of it. Imagine trying to ski down a concrete sidewalk. Just turn to one side and scrape and slide on your ski edges. That’s what we were facing. So we decided to stop climbing any further and survival ski back down to the powder immediately below the chute.
The initial ski down the couloir went exactly as expected. It was ugly for lack of a better word. Scrape, scrape, slide, jump-turn, scrape, almost fall, scrape, stop, curse and regroup. Repeat as many times as necessary. Then we actually found some nice powder turns from the base of the couloir all the way back down to the skin track. For good measure, however, the mountain was perfectly booby-trapped with randomly placed solid ice chunks just below the snow surface. Were these the best snow conditions for skiing that I’ve ever had? No, not by a long shot. But it was a fun and very memorable day.
Now I ask you, was our decision to ski the couloir a good idea or a bad idea? That depends on your perspective. If you only care about the quality of the snow and the resulting quality of your ski turns, then you would likely say that it was a bad idea. But for me, the actual skiing part of skiing is of secondary importance. I really enjoy spending time in the mountains, especially with friends. And I really enjoy pushing myself to do new and challenging things. And I really love to take photos. If we had simply given up and decided not to try to ski the couloir due to imperfect snow quality then we would have robbed ourselves of a very fun and memorable experience. I also happened to get a few really great photos that I would not have gotten otherwise.
So was it a good or bad idea? I answer that it was unquestionably a terrible idea to ski that couloir in those conditions. The snow was garbage and not even capable of skiing. The external sensory input from the mountain told us that very clearly. But we decided to do it anyway. By pushing past our negative expectations we were able to create a positive experience out of imperfect conditions. Simply stated, we used the power of perspective to turn a negative into a big positive. The mountains provide endless opportunities for fun and personal growth but ultimately the mountains do not care about your day. So it’s entirely up to you to find your own bliss. And I promise you can have fun in the mountains every single day if you’re willing. The decision to go is always a great idea.