Gulf of Slides, Mt. Washington, NH 5/15/99

JimB · Apr 17, 2000

(Note from the Administrator: This report was originally posted on 5/18/99. Due to our move to new servers, the date and time attributed to this post is incorrect.) Pulled out 'o Burlington Friday about 6:30pm after picking up Kathleen's mother at BTV International. Arrived at the "Royalty Inn" in Gorham a little after 9:00 with no moose encounters. The Royalty is an excellent place though I can't report on the $. They've got a pool and jacuzzi and such but we only sampled the beds after a perfect day of skiing and hiking and some reebs in the rooms on Sat. night. The Bogan clan saddled up on Sat. morn. with Denis, Kathleen, myself, Dick Carlson, Denis' son Johnny, and former scout (Eagle, no less) from Denis' troop Jesse, met up with Jerm, Matt, and Mark R. for a truly fine day in the Gulf of Slides. Our prediction of doubling the population of the Gulf of Slides was slightly off... there were a grand total of four there when Jerm and Matt arrived. The entire day we saw only two more folks with skis for a skiing population total for the day of 15. Needless to say the skiing lines were basically unspoiled. And what lines they were. Our first run was up the Main Gully with the incredible slide damage at the bottom. It had carved a perfectly symmetrical corridor out of the substantial evergreens well down from the higer angle slopes. If you're here on a day that looks like something might let go, don't hang out near the first aid cache. You'd be way too close for comfort. The memorial sign on the cache for the two skiers who'd died in just such a way at that spot in '96 is a powerful reminder. The climb was fairly low angle up to a little rocky waterfall that dead ended the main gully, forcing us climber's right. A tele-dude and dudette were climber's left of the waterfall and basked in the sun as we ascended. The sun was intense and the breezes were seldom, so mucho-hydration was essential. As we bore right I paused often to take in the southeasterly views of Cranmore and Attitash and the easterly view of Wildcat. Mark's steady "ka-chunk" with AT boots, crampons and ice axe looked fun. The man knows his toys and knows how to use 'em. Half the group clicked in (what to tele-ers and boarders do?) just below a narrow spot were the brush started to encroach. Kathleen, Jeese, Johnny and I climbed higher, though we encountered some unnerving undercut snow where you could hear and feel the fast rushing water beneath you. It was loud enough to make verbal communication difficult. Kathleen wasn't too keen on falling through and she and Johnny stopped 20yds past the narrow spot. Jesse and I climbed a bit higher and were stopped by brush. The first few turns were simple hops, picking a narrow line in between brush, rocks, flowing water and snow ready to cave in. Mark provided verbal inspiration as I nailed the narrow spot pretty well. The snow was perfect corn. It had probably briefly frozen the night before and was not at all like the slop that returns little energy to your turns. We got good action shots of everyone hitting the crux of the run, including Jerm and Matt, who easily caught us after their first run. The rest of the run was wider and lower angle, with perfect snow making for energetic turns and huge grins. The flatter bottom part with slide debris made for a nice obstacle course. We regrouped, downed lunch and drank in the sun as we leisurely contemplated round two. I thought about heading over the small ridge to climber's left and reaching the snowfields that you can see so well from Rt. 16. Consensus seemed to be for the narrow gully that we'd first spied on the hike up. Turned out to be the correct choice, as run #2 was truly epic. The climb seemed fairly easy at first but turned sketchy quickly. The gully snaked left around a rocky outcropping and then got steeper. Undercut wasn't a problem but every now and then your bootstep would collapse in the softened snow, sending you 5'-6' down the hill. Kathleen experienced a couple of these and got a little spooked, but made a great run anyway. Jerm again caught us, cruising with his teles over one shoulder and his incredible stamina leaving us awed. His bootsteps were quite wide, and I chose to take two two his one quite a few times. We reached the logical end of the run and Jerm cruised right over some brush to access the next gully just above. Now I know Jerm has done this type of thing many times before, and I'm a serious turn-earning newbie, but I was unsure about him skiing alone. (Translation: I justified going a little further for altruistic reasons.) I wouldn't have continued if he hadn't. About 60' of brush climbing and disentangling later, we were back on snowa firma, though this time feeling very alone. Jerm commented, "a little intimidating, huh?" as we stepped up a 40-45 degree gully, about 4-5 ski lengths wide above a mini-waterfall. Yoiks. It was deadly quiet as I gingerly clicked in, being very deliberate and slow. Jerm had dissapeared above, ascending to the ridge and peering into Oakes Gulf. I yelled a couple times and he later said he had heard me, though I couldn't hear his reply. Turns out I could've bagged another 100' of vert. with good snow above, similar angle, but my nerve was up and it was time to go. The snow was basically perfect, a little heavier in the late afternoon sun, but the turns were sweet. Didn't come close to blowing it and I got up a little speed, which spooked me. Nearing the brush cutoff, I spied a little gully on skier's left that paralled the brush section. I yelled down to Kathleen and she was thankful I'd made it down, but she didn't think the gully I'd found connected through. I said I'd just take a look but went ahead and skied it. Better than downhiking through wet, steep, thick brush, I rationalized. Five turns later I was faced with a choice: hike back up and downhike the brush we'd originally ascended, or negotiate a smooth, overgrown waterfall emptying into seriously undercut and overhanging snow. Lord knows why I chose the latter. I de-skied and de-poled and tossed them onto the heavy brush where they stuck. I then got a hold of some tough branches and did a little rappel. Next grab the skis and poles and toss a little further. Repeated this dance about four times over the running water and rock. At the bottom the overhanging snow dissappeared into blackness. As I attempted to move laterally around to the safer snow, my foot conveniently removed about 25 sq. ft. of snow with a thud, down into the water, the maneater Jerm spoke of. I went further left, finally reaching stable snow. Retrieving skisand poles was tricky, as I got a little too close to the remaining overhang. One pole was at the floor under the overhang, and for a few anxious seconds, laying atop the undercut snow while blindly reaching down for a piece of aluminum and plastic made me question my sanity. The rest of the run was a piece 'o cake. Everyone else had left a little bobsled track and a few turns netted nice little airs. At the bottom we all marvelled at what a perfect run we'd just conquered and adrenaline masked the fact I'd just scared myself silly. We packed up with big smiles and stories to tell, and I envied Matt and Jerm tenting on the mtn. The stories reebs and kielbasa make me a little more envious. Lugging a 65 lb. pack up the long G. of S. slide would be a bit of a downer, though. The hike down was entertaining and long, with wet snow and stream crossings keeping you on your toes and putting some of us on our butts. The bottow third was serious mud. Kathleen almost lost her shoes in the glop. We all wanted to ski this sucker when there's snow all the way down. Beautiful double fall lines, blind turns, narrow and wide, steep and mild, and long. Why don't they cut this way at the lift served stuff? (Some do, I suppose) Mark provided the well-earned reebs in the pkg. lot and we made plans for a shorter but equally epic day on Sunday...

Gulf of Slides, Mt. Washington, NH 5/15/99

JimB

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