Nez Perce Trifecta
A few years ago, Steve Romeo and I set out early one snowy morning with the intention of skiing the Nez Perce Trifecta - a link-up of the Sliver, East Hourglass and West Hourglass Couloirs. We hauled a couple of ropes and some hardware up Garnet Canyon prepared for anything except for the thigh deep powder we encountered. We bailed. Steve got the mission done last year with a different partner but the project has remained on my list since that first attempt.
With a light work schedule on Tuesday and some less than gnarly weather in store, I decided to give it another go. I checked with two friends about the rappel and they both figured that a single 60 meter rope would do. Unsure of the anchor, I brought some pins, a few nuts and some tat. I would not be denied for lack of being prepared.
I also wanted to haul ass. I made the mistake recently of watching some videos about Swiss alpine climbing freak show, Ueli Steck. Obviously, I will never match his talent, skill or drive but he inspires me, nonetheless. I kept him and his antics in mind as I headed out. I tried to keep the pressure on the whole time.
I trimmed my load to what I felt reasonable while still having some leeway if things went sideways. I carried a Dynafit race pack and the following items:
- Marmot down puffy with hood
- Marmot Precip pants
- heavy gloves
- hat
- Marmot Trail Wind Jacket (super light shell)
- Mylar space bivy sack
- hand warmers.
- 1 liter of water
- 1,500 calories of Gu and Chomps
- Camp Harness (95 grams - stupid light!)
- biners (1 locker, 3 regular)
- pitons (3 blades, 1 baby angle)
- 3 wired nuts
- 10 ft 5.5mm Dyneema cord
- 60 meters 6mm rope
- ice tool for hammering pins
- Grivel Haute Route crampons
- Petzl helmet
My ski set-up was Dynafit Broad Peak skis with Plum Race 145 bindings. I left the parking lot with harness and helmet on. I felt like a dork but it worked with my small pack.
Because of work, I did not get the crack-of-ass start I would have preferred but the temps were cold the night before and two of the three couloirs never see the sun anyway. There had been plenty of snow falling in the high peaks over the last few days so I was not sure what I was getting into. I took a different approach this time, skinning up above the Taggart-Bradley moraine to the top of the east flank of Shadow Peak.
During my 2 hour skin, a helicopter was constantly flying in and out of Garnet Canyon, working the search and rescue effort, I assumed. They were also throwing bombs up higher, creating a safer passage for the crew.
From the top, the beta I got suggested dropping to the south into a little col and then skiing down into the cirque below the Sliver Couloir, my first objective. I was warned that the slope is often loaded and some skiers cut and drop the cornice that hangs above it as a precaution. The slope was clearly a hazard so I ski cut it to a rock out-cropping in the middle. Nothing moved. I then did a longer cut to the rocks on the far side and a six inch soft slab cut loose and ran the short distance to the bottom. That got my attention.
A short ski down the slide bed and I was putting skins back on for the approach up the apron of the Sliver. Since it was the exact opposite exposure and was seeing sun on and off during the day, I approached with some trepidation. The apron was fairly firm from regular slides out of the gut. The snow was still cold and winter-like, no crust and not very deep. The booting was fairly easy.
Once on top I understood why the Sliver was not loaded. Most of the snow seems to get blown up and over into the East Hourglass. After peering down my next objective I dropped my ice tool, rope and hardware at the top. There was still the matter of skiing the Sliver. It's no send of the Trifecta without actually going DOWN each couloir. The skiing was fantastic with only a little slough management. I tried to avoid my boot pack for obvious reasons. I stopped at the end of the actual gully, turned around and headed back up. Yeah, it seemed a little contrived but doing it this way makes the most sense for the rest of the trip.
Now for the scary part. I sent my wife a text message of my location before dropping to the north. It would be radio silence after that. The East Hourglass is very filled in right now from what I understand of typical conditions. I was able to down climb the first short rappel. The next section is a "hanging" couloir capped on either end by rappels. The skiing is tight but fun. The first rap was easy enough to avoid but the second would be harder. The drops were not high but slightly overhanging and tricky without a rope. I took out the skinny 6mm line I had.
Anchors are another issue. The rock in the cleft that forms these couloirs is extremely compact with few cracks for pro. I didn't scratch around too much and chose the existing knifeblade piton at the top of the chockstone. Yeah, one pin… not too inspiring. I gave it a few wacks with my tool. The rappel is short and I was able to get down without fully weighting the piton.
Once in the main East Hourglass it was clear that this would be the danger crux. The gully was stuffed with new snow. A very short, sharp jump turn was all that was needed to cut the whole thing loose. The soft slab went wall to wall for the full length as I watched from the top. It was like looking down the barrel of a water slide the way the snow washed from side to side as it rushed out of sight. With the energy released and no hang fire to speak of, I skied down to the bottom uneventfully.
At the junction with the West Hourglass I had a decision to make. Pulling the plug seemed the logical choice. I've booted up the West on a number of occasions in deep snow but this latest dump had a lot more moisture in it and was dense. Not confidence inspiring. Still, the idea of missing out on completing the Trifecta was also rattling around in my head. This was a classic battle between survival and ambition. I ate and drank, gripped by indecision. There was no partner to push me one way or another. This was my choice but listening to rescue helicopters for most of the afternoon was compelling.
I decide upon a compromise. I'd go up to the steep roll-over, hugging the wall to the left and have a look. It was deep at first and I figured it would be a short trip. But when I looked around the corner, all I saw was sastrugi for as far as I could see. This was a surprise. I felt relieved and excited that I might actually get it done. The booting was easy on the firm surface. As often happens during the season, storms either load the West or blow it out. Lucky for me, this was one of the latter.
Earlier this season, it took me two hours to boot up this thing alone, digging a trench as I went. This time was a short 40 minute cruise. Equally cool was the fact that the top was completely filled in and I was able to ski from just short of the col. The descent was uneventful. I played it safe at the notorious roll-over near the bottom, the site of several slide events in the past with other skiers I know, and side-slipped my up track.
Skiing out of Garnet went from marginal to horrible. First, in the meadows, I came across the SAR encampment with hundreds of tracks and snow walls everywhere. Clearly, they had recently vacated. Tons of wet snow had fallen from the steep walls forming the south side of the canyon around the Platforms. I skied over re-frozen tracks, eventually resorting to traverse and kick-turn survival mode above the lake.
Seven hours after I started, I was back at the car. With the Nez Perce Trifecta in the bag, focus can now turn to other objectives.
The snow pack in the high peaks is deep, variable and unpredictable right now. With more snow on the way, I may stay in the valley and ride my bike this weekend. - Brian
Reader Comments (1)
Nice work! Love the big skimo enchainments. Great post.