Report from March 20, 2025

“Scott Schmidt described [The Chimney Sweep] as being like a 90-meter ski jump. This is an appropriate analogy, particularly at low and low-medium snow levels. When viewed from above, the inrun looks long, and it feels even longer when you are skiing it.” – Dr. Robb Gaffney in Squallywood

Difficulty:  Medium Snow 8, High Snow 6

Hero Factor:  Medium

Fun Factor:  4/5

Pitch:  60 degrees

• short excerpt from Dr. Robb Gaffney’s “Squallywood” book

I woke up at 3:30 am yesterday morning to pee.

I started thinking about skiing The Chimney Sweep, dropping Center Line, skittering down Easy Street…

I wondered if the forecast snow had come.

I looked out the window, checked the SnowTel websites, gaped at the webcams, and obsessed over the radar and satellite images.

I did not fall back into gentle slumber…

Aaron Fox had invited me to go backcountry skiing with him and Garrett and if I was gonna do that, I had to get up at in only 2 hours to meet them at 6:30am.

The wind was blowing 115mph on the summit at bedtime and the skies were forecast to drop 3-5″ overnight before going completely blue at sunrise.

That’s the perfect combination to make “The Chimney” skiable – wind and a skiff of new snow.

The Chimney is an intimidating stretch of 60-degree-steep mini-chutes that all end in mandatory airs between two colossal rock cliffs at the extreme north end of “The Palisades,” the namesake of Palisades Tahoe ski resort.

They’re some of the scariest lines at Palisades Tahoe.

They haunt my dreams…

They ruin my sleep…

A fall in here will damage both body and soul.

I’ve only fallen once in The Chimney but I’ll never forget it.

Our friend fell in The Chimney Sweep on Tuesday, bonking his head multiple times, and he wasn’t quite right the rest of the day.

After checking everything from my window to all the webcams I still couldn’t tell if it snowed or not so I tried to return to tepid torpor to no avail.

By 5:30 am I was texting with Fox trying to figure out what to do.

FOMO.

I didn’t wanna miss out on The Chimney and I also didn’t wanna miss a great backcountry day with two of our most badass local legends: Fox & Garrett.

I decided to go through the motions of getting ready to meet the boys while checking the webcam looking for a sign that The Chimney dream was still alive.

Our meet-up time pushed back to 7 am.

I teetered back and forth enjoying a healthy mental hysteria.

Sunrise was 7:04 am and I prayed I’d be able to see The Chimney from the webcam before I left the house so I could make the right decision.

At sunrise, The Palisades were drenched in clouds.

“Bro! I’m completely freaked out and still at home… Please let me know where you guys go and I’ll catch up once I finally make a freaking decision… Thx!” – Miles to Fox, 6:54 am

“Ooooo, OK sorry coming” – Miles to Fox, 7:09 am

“I’m staying here. The Chimney looks good” – Miles to Fox, 7:28 am

At 7:27 am, the sun peaked over the Carson Range, richocheted off the lake, and softly illuminated The Palisades revealing smooth, wind rolled snow.

It looked right.

My mind instantly spun into terrifying images of dropping off the cornice, absorbing the rock-hard chute, and flying off the bottom cliff into the still undefined new snow below.

Was that new snow soft?

Was it wind-pressed and firm?

I told myself the same thing I told myself on Monday before launching a backflip off the tram building, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do.”

I’d go through the motions, get myself up there early, not put pressure on myself, then see how I feel.

I was the first person to the Siberia chair just after 9 am.

Chair closed.

I did a lap on Big Blue and over to Shirley Lake.

By the time I came back, Siberia was open and people were already up on The Chimney.

I raced up there and by the time I arrived, 4 people had already dropped.

That was good for me.

I didn’t wanna go first—I didn’t trust the snow.

I dropped my skis, clicked in, and pushed up to the edge.

It looked good.

The air out the bottom wasn’t big.

A father and son named Matt and Luke watched as I flopped into the chute.

Slam poles together, count “3, 2, 1, Drop!”, scream “Hah!”, push off the edge and into the abyss.

The chute looked like sh*t.

Runnelled and firm from skiers and avalanche bombs.

The key to The Chimney is to fully visualize the run before you drop because when you drop, you blackout, and it’s over before it begins…

When I came to, I was screaming down the apron.

I made a couple of turns before realizing that turning was dangerous in the thin snow on coral reef.

I mobbed down to the groomer before slowing down and regaining control.

The rush was intense.

The relief was transformative.

I went up for another lap just to make sure I was done.

I looked at Easy Street for one second and my brain said “Nope!”

I skied The Tube and enjoyed its relative tranquility.

At the bottom, I just stood there and watched The Palisades with Ryan Faye for about 30 minutes.

Transfixed.

Grateful.

Relieved.

Eventually, the spell broke and I slithered down the mountain and home.

I grabbed my backcountry gear and went out for a short tour.

At one point I found a wide open meadow and just sat there, all alone and drank it in.

I was calm, silent, grateful.

I skied two laps in fun powder in temperate terrain and went home.

I can’t even begin to describe how satisfied and grateful I felt.

We celebrated the week with burgers and beers at The Bridgetender in Tahoe City with Fox. 

Thanks, California

Snow Numbers

Forecast

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