Report from November 12, 2024

Yesterday I made my classic move of skiing Main Chute on 11,068′ Mt. Baldy in a blinding storm.

You’ve gotta figure out how to zig when everyone zags in the very busy Wasatch Mountains.

The storm arrived the previous night with a forecast pointing out most of the snow falling during the day and ending about 3 p.m.

My plan was to be on top at 2pm, hoping to get a break in the storm along with maximum snow depth.

I was tired.

Very tired…

I’m still in training mode going to F45 classes and hiking up Alta daily.

It caught up with me this day and took me 2 hours and 15 minutes to make the 2,400-vertical-foot climb.

The last 45 minutes I was breaking trail and the wind drifts were deep.

Shooting cracks emanated from each step in the wind drifts up high resulting in me triggering 2 very small avalanches that only slid about 1 foot downhill.

Spooky.

It was bitterly cold at 12ºF and a stiff 20mph wind.

I wore nearly all my gear for the final pitch:  big gloves, helmet, goggles, puffy jacket, hood.

I topped out a little after 2 p.m. and did not take my time.

I gave myself a few minutes to catch my breath and take a sip of water.

The entrance to the chute was heinous.

Loose rocks, dirt, and mud-ice.

I wanted it over with.

I sideslipped and stepped down the rocky throat laughing at myself all the way.

“What the hell am I doing out here!?”

Once into the skiable part of the chute I took a few deep breaths, focused, and dropped in.

The snow was good: low density graupel that exploded with every turn causing loud shredding noises as it showered down on my jacket, pants, helmet, and face.

The base beneath the new snow was firm but supple.

I tried to keep my speed down but gravity had other ideas.

I came into the narrowest part of the chute too hot.

It got spicy in there.

Rocks, old moguls, and fear peppered the choke.

I got a bit outta control, hit a rock, swerved onto the right wall of the chute, hit more rocks, ollied over a tombstone, and miraculously escaped unscathed.

The lower chute was buttery and speed control returned to me.

Passion overrode my exhaustion as I cranked naively confident turns down into the base of the couloir.

Before the true end of the couloir, I stopped and picked my way through the stoney minefield.

Fortunately, I’d seen this stone labyrinth from below the previous day.

After the rock maze, I cut hard right and traversed to the groomer, to the snowmaking zone, to safety.

I was pleased to have gotten away with a very low snow Main Chute and my risk-taking behavior was over.

I happily schnoodled my way to the base area and back to my car with a guilty grin.

I will not be returning to Main Chute before Alta shuts down uphill access on Saturday due to fear and self-preservation.

Thanks, Utah!

Photos