Skiace
Member
This TR is very late, but hey it's summer, and I finally got the pictures from my buddy Ben, so I figured it's worth a share. The Solstice Couloir is a pretty sweet line on the north-east face of Mt. Dana, serving up roughly 1200 vertical, the top half of which is around 40+ degrees. It is a classic line of the Eastern Sierra, accessible from Tioga Pass, but most of the time it sports a pretty gnarly cornice. This spring however, a significant chunk of the cornice fell about a month and a half ago, making the entrance much lower-risk than is often common. As such, the approach from the west side of Mt. Dana became more attractive. For the 4th of July weekend, Ben Solish and I planned to ski the couloir by skinning most of the west face, as it rises at a moderate but consistent pitch from the pass. Reports from TGR the two weeks previous indicated that conditions were ripe though likely to deteriorate fast with the warm weather. We parked just inside the gate to Yosemite, utilizing Ben's park pass to avoid fees on the way out. Our approximate planned route is shown below, with the ascent in blue and the descent in red (click on pics for bigger):
We intended to start hiking at 6am in order to reach the couloir by 11, but were a bit slow-moving in the morning and didn't get underway until 6:45. As I'll get to later, we didn't end up skiing Solstice, so this shot from the car at 6:45 shows our actual route up and down (hiking in blue and skinning/skiing in red). Portions of it are obscured, but the red line was actually continuous snow on both the up and the down.
I did not remember to re-calibrate my watch that morning, but it read 9,800' at the car, which is maybe 150 feet low. At about 7:30 the we reached ugly but continuous snow on the west face, and the watch read 10,200. Here we stopped to put on our boots and switch to skinning.
Despite the severe suncups at this elevation and exposure, we didn't have much trouble skinning. I used the ski crampons that my dad had picked up for his Shasta trip, but Ben did fine without any. We made reasonable and steady progress for the first hour. Here's a look east across the Tioga pass, from about 10,800.
Some time around 8:30, we hit a problematic spot at the location the previous picture was taken. We came to the steepest pitch of the ascent, which was also still in the shade. It was rock solid, and I was only barely able to skin up it with the aid of ski crampons. Ben unfortunately could not get up it, and spent roughly an hour trying to get around by scrambling on rocks or boot-packing the refrozen snow. In the end, he waited until the sun hit and softened the snow enough to boot up the troublesome 150 vertical. This was an error in planning on my part, as dad had given me both an ice axe and boot crampons the night before, but I left them in the car. I left them assuming there would be no point in just one of us having these tools, not thinking about the scenario where I might need ski crampons and boot crampons would help Ben. This is a shot of Ben took just before boot packing up the pitch in question. I'm barely visible near the top of the rock line, below the sun.
Ben was feeling a little sluggish, as he had expended a lot of effort trying to get around the steep refrozen section below. Despite the hiccup, the next section was fairly smooth sailing, and we cruised to 11,500 or so by about 10:30. Here I am at the plateau, with our final pitch in the background. The peak of Mt. Dana is visible, and the entrance to the Solstice couloir is where the large snowfield almost meets the ridge-line snow, center frame. At this point we had about 1000 vertical to go, and I was cautiously optimistic of our chances at getting there in time to ski.
Looking south from the same vantage point:
Ben and the rest of the route ahead:
The final pitch was more difficult than I expected. Around 12,000' both Ben and I seemed to hit the wall. He'd been in Mammoth for 3 nights, I'd been there for 2, but we still were not sufficiently acclimated. Or perhaps more accurately, our combination of acclimation and conditioning were not sufficient. Progress slowed down significantly, and I reached the top of the snow field about 12:45. Ben was still a good ways behind me, so I rested, drank water, and snacked on beef jerky. I also walked over to the top of the Solstice couloir to inspect the entrance. Unfortunately I left the GoPro in my backpack so I don't have any pictures. I had plenty of time to inspect the entrance with Ben still hiking, however. While the skiers-left section of the cornice had indeed fallen, it was still a steep (shear) 4 feet in, with a subsequent traverse to get out from above rock exposure. It was an entrance I'd have no second thoughts about on a normal resort day, but in the backcountry (with consequences elevated) and my fatigue from the hike, I wasn't gung-ho on the idea. It turned out that Ben was even more tired than I, as he stopped skinning about 200 feet below me. So the decision was made to play it safe and ski what we'd hiked. Solstice will have to wait for another time. I walked back to my gear, skied down to Ben, and enjoyed the scenery as he rested and took his time gearing up for the descent. Ben snapped a shot of me resting before the payoff:
Two more of myself skiing the upper pitch, between ~12,500 and 11,500:
The snow was quite good for the first 1000 feet. It was a bit too textured to be truly smooth corn, but it had softened just the right amount to cruise without effort.
Inadvertently, Ben and I left a coordinated pair of tracks:
The lower sections were predictably disgusting snow, but we managed alright. By stopping and orienting myself above the tree line, I managed to get us back to the car with minimal navigation issues at about 2pm. Total vertical: 2600 up, 2200 skied.
And now for the not-so-flattering dark side of the day's adventures. I managed to let myself get severely dehydrated over the course of the day. I made an effort to drink plenty of water, and had been snacking on salty beef jerky, but that wasn't enough. During the final hike down and across the meadow (with skis+boots on the pack) I got nauseous and vomited. I felt better immediately, and assumed that I had simply pushed myself too hard physically. We weren't far from the car, and I was feeling tired but much better by the time we got there. I drank a bunch more water while resting and loading up to head down the pass. But within 10-15 minutes drive, I got nauseous again and had to pull over and vomit. So now I'd lost all the water I'd consumed for at least the previous hour or so, and wasn't feeling so hot. Ben drove the rest of the way back to Mammoth, and I laid down to rest for an hour. My resting heart-rate at this point was 100 bpm, which is apparently right on the border of go-straight-to-the-hospital territory. We knew that if I couldn't keep any fluids down soon, I'd need to get and IV. Luckily, I was able to drink a liter of pedialyte that dad brought over, and recovered.
All in all, it was a beautiful day to be out in the Sierras, and I gained valuable experience going forward. I will likely never leave crampons/axe behind on an early spring morning again, and will need more acclimation/conditioning before I can ski the enticing Solstice couloir. I am however, convinced that skinning up the west face is the preferred approach to Mt. Dana, and will do so again should the opportunity arise.
Ben took a ton of pictures, so there's lots more here: https://picasaweb.google.com/1000853916 ... directlink
We intended to start hiking at 6am in order to reach the couloir by 11, but were a bit slow-moving in the morning and didn't get underway until 6:45. As I'll get to later, we didn't end up skiing Solstice, so this shot from the car at 6:45 shows our actual route up and down (hiking in blue and skinning/skiing in red). Portions of it are obscured, but the red line was actually continuous snow on both the up and the down.
I did not remember to re-calibrate my watch that morning, but it read 9,800' at the car, which is maybe 150 feet low. At about 7:30 the we reached ugly but continuous snow on the west face, and the watch read 10,200. Here we stopped to put on our boots and switch to skinning.
Despite the severe suncups at this elevation and exposure, we didn't have much trouble skinning. I used the ski crampons that my dad had picked up for his Shasta trip, but Ben did fine without any. We made reasonable and steady progress for the first hour. Here's a look east across the Tioga pass, from about 10,800.
Some time around 8:30, we hit a problematic spot at the location the previous picture was taken. We came to the steepest pitch of the ascent, which was also still in the shade. It was rock solid, and I was only barely able to skin up it with the aid of ski crampons. Ben unfortunately could not get up it, and spent roughly an hour trying to get around by scrambling on rocks or boot-packing the refrozen snow. In the end, he waited until the sun hit and softened the snow enough to boot up the troublesome 150 vertical. This was an error in planning on my part, as dad had given me both an ice axe and boot crampons the night before, but I left them in the car. I left them assuming there would be no point in just one of us having these tools, not thinking about the scenario where I might need ski crampons and boot crampons would help Ben. This is a shot of Ben took just before boot packing up the pitch in question. I'm barely visible near the top of the rock line, below the sun.
Ben was feeling a little sluggish, as he had expended a lot of effort trying to get around the steep refrozen section below. Despite the hiccup, the next section was fairly smooth sailing, and we cruised to 11,500 or so by about 10:30. Here I am at the plateau, with our final pitch in the background. The peak of Mt. Dana is visible, and the entrance to the Solstice couloir is where the large snowfield almost meets the ridge-line snow, center frame. At this point we had about 1000 vertical to go, and I was cautiously optimistic of our chances at getting there in time to ski.
Looking south from the same vantage point:
Ben and the rest of the route ahead:
The final pitch was more difficult than I expected. Around 12,000' both Ben and I seemed to hit the wall. He'd been in Mammoth for 3 nights, I'd been there for 2, but we still were not sufficiently acclimated. Or perhaps more accurately, our combination of acclimation and conditioning were not sufficient. Progress slowed down significantly, and I reached the top of the snow field about 12:45. Ben was still a good ways behind me, so I rested, drank water, and snacked on beef jerky. I also walked over to the top of the Solstice couloir to inspect the entrance. Unfortunately I left the GoPro in my backpack so I don't have any pictures. I had plenty of time to inspect the entrance with Ben still hiking, however. While the skiers-left section of the cornice had indeed fallen, it was still a steep (shear) 4 feet in, with a subsequent traverse to get out from above rock exposure. It was an entrance I'd have no second thoughts about on a normal resort day, but in the backcountry (with consequences elevated) and my fatigue from the hike, I wasn't gung-ho on the idea. It turned out that Ben was even more tired than I, as he stopped skinning about 200 feet below me. So the decision was made to play it safe and ski what we'd hiked. Solstice will have to wait for another time. I walked back to my gear, skied down to Ben, and enjoyed the scenery as he rested and took his time gearing up for the descent. Ben snapped a shot of me resting before the payoff:
Two more of myself skiing the upper pitch, between ~12,500 and 11,500:
The snow was quite good for the first 1000 feet. It was a bit too textured to be truly smooth corn, but it had softened just the right amount to cruise without effort.
Inadvertently, Ben and I left a coordinated pair of tracks:
The lower sections were predictably disgusting snow, but we managed alright. By stopping and orienting myself above the tree line, I managed to get us back to the car with minimal navigation issues at about 2pm. Total vertical: 2600 up, 2200 skied.
And now for the not-so-flattering dark side of the day's adventures. I managed to let myself get severely dehydrated over the course of the day. I made an effort to drink plenty of water, and had been snacking on salty beef jerky, but that wasn't enough. During the final hike down and across the meadow (with skis+boots on the pack) I got nauseous and vomited. I felt better immediately, and assumed that I had simply pushed myself too hard physically. We weren't far from the car, and I was feeling tired but much better by the time we got there. I drank a bunch more water while resting and loading up to head down the pass. But within 10-15 minutes drive, I got nauseous again and had to pull over and vomit. So now I'd lost all the water I'd consumed for at least the previous hour or so, and wasn't feeling so hot. Ben drove the rest of the way back to Mammoth, and I laid down to rest for an hour. My resting heart-rate at this point was 100 bpm, which is apparently right on the border of go-straight-to-the-hospital territory. We knew that if I couldn't keep any fluids down soon, I'd need to get and IV. Luckily, I was able to drink a liter of pedialyte that dad brought over, and recovered.
All in all, it was a beautiful day to be out in the Sierras, and I gained valuable experience going forward. I will likely never leave crampons/axe behind on an early spring morning again, and will need more acclimation/conditioning before I can ski the enticing Solstice couloir. I am however, convinced that skinning up the west face is the preferred approach to Mt. Dana, and will do so again should the opportunity arise.
Ben took a ton of pictures, so there's lots more here: https://picasaweb.google.com/1000853916 ... directlink
