Trip Report: 12,779′ Mt. Gibbs, CA — The North Face — “Roller Coaster Couloir”

Report from Memorial Day, May 25, 2026

The last time I skied Mt. Gibbs was in 2024 with Bernie Rosow, who we just lost this year.

• Related: Mammoth Mountain, CA, Mourns the Passing of Skiing Legend Bernie Rosow

I thought about him all day as Fox and I traded stories of climbing and skiing with Bernie.

Gibbs is a beast of a mountain with a plethora of amazing ski lines.

I wish I knew the exact name of this chute – for now, we’re calling it “Roller Coaster Couloir.”

12,779′ Mt. Gibbs

The North Face

“Roller Coaster Couloir”

Sierra Nevada Mountains, CA

• Summit (actually just where the snow stopped):  11,711 feet 
• Car:  7,988 feet
• Vertical From Car:  3,900 feet 
• Vertical Skied:  1,100 feet in the chute, 300 feet on the apron, another 900 feet of mostly transportation skiing down to Gibbs Lake
  
• Max Pitch:  45º 
• Avg Pitch: 40º 
• Aspect:  North
• Distance: 9.4 miles round trip
• Time From Car to Top:  4 hours and 14 minutes
• Car to Car Time: 7 hours & 19 minutes
• Recommended Equipment:  Crampons, Ice Axe x 2, Skins, Ski Crampons

Up at 6 a.m.

Hiking by 8 a.m.

Fox took it easy on me and hiked slow up the trail.

We chattered and gossiped about everything beneath the shade of monstrous Jeffrey Pines.

We hit the far shore of Gibbs Lake after 1 hour and 28 minutes, and it was there that we met snow and ditched our shoes.

A straight-up skin track, a few jagged rock portages, and another hour and 20 minutes brought us to electric-blue Kidney Lake.

This is where I used my nifty new Be Free water purifier to fill up on fresh water.

This new filter has been terrific – I now never carry more than 1 liter of water when in the Eastern Sierra in May.

The chute looked superb from the lake.

Twisting, turning, rolling, bobbing and weaving.

Fox had already named it “Roller Coaster Couloir” the previous year.

No objection from me – the name fit.

I was excited.

I followed Fox as he skinned as high as he could, then booted like a banshee.

The real truth is that I didn’t follow Fox.

He put a freeride “I’m strong as f*ck” booter straight up the chute.

I zig-zagged up like a lazy, old, French mountaineer and glided up the chute in rhythm.

The cramponing was perfect – supple snow with minimal penetration and maximum grip.

Not icy and scary, not sloppy and post-hole-y.

I was moving well and didn’t get tired until near the top.

Of course, just as we topped out, the weather was moving in.

I got anxious.

Fox dropped before the clouds occluded the sun and left me in an anxiety-ridden bath of fear and doubt.

I scampered to get all my gear dialed, looked up at the thickening clouds, and dropped blindly.

Three, two, one, Bernie!

The snow was good and my skis were fast.

The top third skied great and I had light.

Then my shadow slowly faded.

I skied the second half in the dark — but it wasn’t too dark.

More akin limbo than Beezlebub’s paradise.

The lake and rock across the canyon held brilliant blues and reds in the sunshine as I plummeted.

The wind whistled through the rock, the lake shimmered, the clouds raced overhead.

I skied the chute without stopping, letting my lungs burn and my heart sledgehammer.

I drifted out wide left on the apron and lined up for a small, turquoise pond skim I’d seen on the way up.

I analyzed the ice on Kidney Lake on the short and final approach and guessed it was thick enough…

The pond skim splashed and sizzled and I clanked onto the lake ice completely outta breath and elated.

Another epic Sierra line – and one of the best chutes I’ve skied in the range.

1,100 vertical feet of walled perfection.

We ate, refilled bottles, and started the slog home.

It was easy back to Gibbs Lake.

It was easy down the trail from Gibbs Lake, but in the last hour or so, man, I got tired.

I was happy to hit the car 7 hours and 19 minutes after leaving it.

We never saw another person.

Mobile Mart fish tacos and Jackie’s kind face made everything alright.

Fox drove north to Tahoe.

I drove south to Mammoth, knowing I’d be driving east to Utah the next morning.

Emotions flooded my cerebral synapses as I struggled with feelings of satisfaction and sadness.

Sad that my favorite month of the year was over.

Sad that I wasn’t going to see my favorite people every day, all day.

Sad that I wouldn’t be skiing the Sierra.

Satisfied that I’d gotten the D-Spin.

Satisfied that I’d danced with Red Slate and 5 other gorgeous ski mountaineering lines.

Beyond satisfied with the wild 5th annual bachelor party.

Mixed emotions, contemplation, and confusion as I blasted Arcade Fire and watched Mt. Wood tower to the west.

Thanks, Fox.

Thanks to all the Mammoth crew.

Thanks, Bernie.

Thanks, California.

Photos in Chronological Order