Report from May 9, 2024

Yesterday we went for a classic or classics.

Our goal was to ski “Kindergarten Chute” or “Checkered Demon” then bounce down to “Wahoo Gullies” and ski one of those.

But things got kinda weird out there, as they always do.

12,600-foot “Preschool Couloir”

“Wahoo Gullies”

Sierra Nevada Mountains, CA

• Summit (actually a ridgeline):  12,600 feet
• Car:  8,900 feet
• Vertical From Car:  5,500 feet (this includes hiking up both chutes)
• Vertical skied:  1,300 feet in Preschool Couloir, 2,000 in Wahoo Gullies
  
• Max Pitch:  45+º in Preschool Couloir, 35º in Wahoo Gullies
• Average Pitch:  ??º in Preschool, 35º in Wahoo
• Aspect:  NE on both chutes
• Distance:  9-miles round trip
• Time From Car to Summit:  4 hours & 20 minutes
• Car to Car Time:  8 hours & 42 minutes
• Recommended Equipment:  crampons, ice axe x2, skins

 

We made it almost all the way out to the Upper Buttermilk Trailhead in Fox’s badass Tacoma Off-Road.

We only destroyed one of his headlamps on the way…

We also had to push a guy named Doug’s Dodge truck outta the way (his truck broke down in the middle of the road).

A quick saunter up the road, then we were baby bushwhacking through the sagebrush.

50 minutes after leaving the car, we were on snow below the Wahoo Gullies.

We traversed along the snow to get up into the basin that holds the Kindergarten and Checkered Demon chutes.

After 2 hours and 30 minutes of easy walking, we were at the base of the chutes.

Kindergarten looked OK in the sun but it was very tracked.

Checkered Demon was also pretty beat up.

Neither of them looked like they held good snow.

Things just aren’t corning up around here…

Further up the valley a touch more were some east-facing chutes that looked corny, steep, and fun.

We moved on from Kindergarten and Checkered with promises to be back soon.

We goofily named the chute we chose “Preschool Couloir” to fit in with the adjacent named chutes.

Preschool was legit.

At first, I thought I was gonna climb to the top of it, beat my chest, and drop in naked!

But once I got into the thing I realized just how steep it really was.

I stopped climbing when the thing hit 50º steep and my nipples were damn near touching snow when standing straight up.

I built a platform about 50′ shy of the summit and called it good.

Above me, the chute intensified in steepness and delivered a rock maze conundrum to solve.

No, thank you.

Peter built a platform in the chute and Fox built one at the base of the chute, intelligently opting for better snow and less consequence.

The view was wild.

You could plainly see the town of Bishop, the Buttermilks, and the “Taqueria mi Guadalajara” taco truck (the best food in bishop) we were destined for from the chute.

A truly impressive zone.

I dropped first and the snow was tough.

Old, hot, wind-board powder that stuck to the bases of skis…

I hacked my way down the precipitous chute like a slaughterhouse butcher.

Once the chute ended, I pulled right and found another Valdezean-style off-fall-line ramp with orange peel texture.

The snow down here was better.

A thin melt-freeze crust on old powder with a crisped rice crunch.

The “thin melt-freeze crust on old powder with a crisped rice crunch” snow was bizarre yet rhythm-inducing.

It softened slightly with lower altitude and became pretty damn fun.

I opened the throttle a bit as I adjusted to the snow and took it all the way to the valley floor right up to an awaiting Fox.

We hugged and exclamated wildly.

Such a crazy, unknown, weirdo line!

Peter shredded down last and we all met up in glee.

We were all buzzing from adrenaline, which ended up getting us into trouble a few minutes later.

It took almost no time and nearly no energy to ski down directly into the Wahoo Gullies.

It was 2:30pm or so at this point.

I knew that the Wahoos were in the shadows by 4pm.

But for some reason, we all agreed to boot up them real quick.

They weren’t exactly corn, but they held softish, beat up, warm snow.

So we started up with adrenaline fading in out veins.

1,000-feet up I said to Fox, “Are we not gonna talk about how the snow isn’t good.”

“Nope,” was all he said.

We both knew the same thing.

The snow wasn’t good and was gonna get worse with time.

We also both knew were likely weren’t gonna make it by the time the shade came barrelling in.

And barrel in it did.

7 minutes before we summited, the shade greedily overcame the entire chute instantly turning all that shitty softish snow into brutal, corrugated, bulletproof snow.

It was some of the worst skiing of my life and it turned a mellow 35º steep chute into a no fall zone.

Stupid.

A mistake.

We all know better.

I took my punishment with a grimace as I chattered my way down the 2,000-vertical-foot chute cursing myself all the way.

The apron held soft snow and I was able to link turns right down into the flats where the snow ended and our shoes began.

I was pissed off at myself.

That kinda skiing and snow really hurts my bad knee.

It was a lesson and definitely learned a lot from it.

By the time Peter and Fox got down to me, I had cooled off emotionally and had found the positive in my bad decision.

We bantered about our silliness and the horrible snow as we donned shoes and started home.

We got back to the car in about 45 minutes under clear skies and stellar views.

The 4×4 stumble down the canyon was punctuated by Doug’s truck blocking the road again but in a different spot.

No Doug though…

So we pulled some rocks off the side of the road and Fox blasted around Doug’s truck into the bushes and made it around easily.

That was the final crux of the day.

We cruised into Bishop feeling smooth and rolled directly up to “Taqueria Mi Guadalajara” taco truck and went off.

I got an Al Pastor burrito.

Fox got a carne asa burrito and a fish taco.

Pete ordered 8 tacos and nachos for the table.

We delighted in Bishop’s warm breeze and the best Mexican food in the Eastern Sierra.

The drive home to Mammoth was quite.

It was time to recovery to sleep.

Thanks, California!

Photos in Chronological Order