Grays and Torreys Solo – Winter Training for Grand Traverse Ski Race

Sunday, February 8^th, 2009

After last weekend, I was sure that with similar perfect conditions, I could do these two mountains, roundtrip, in less than 5 hours. I’d need to shave 45 minutes off last week’s time, but I hoped to get most of that by not stopping.

The day before I was in Neptunes to get a new basket for a ski pole and a hook for my skin when I got to talking to the sales guy. There was a pair of 180cm (my current skis are 205cm), wax (mine are fish-scaled), shaped and wider (mine are skinny) XC with the build in kicker-skin slots on the bottom. They retail for $500, but were on sale for $300 because of a cosmetic blemish. Then there was a 25% off sale starting tomorrow and the guy would give me that price that day. I thought about it for a few hours and then came back with my boots to get them mounted up. This provided extra incentive to getting out immediately and trying them. Hence, I headed back to Grays and Torreys alone on Sunday.

I left the house a little before 5 a.m. and after getting gas and using the bathroom in Georgetown, I pulled into the parking at Bakerville at 6:20. I was the only car there. It wasn’t cold or windy and I wore only my two shirts under my bibs at the start, though I carried a pile sweater and a shell. I was going a bit lighter this time, carrying just a Camelback Blowfish pack with my Microspikes, 50-ounces of Gatorade, 4 GU’s, Shot Bloks, a camera (which I never used), an extra hat, big mittens, a neck gaiter and full-length skins, in case my kicker skins weren’t sufficient.

I was hoping to get to the summer trailhead in an hour, the ski drop an hour later and Grays summit an hour after that. Then 3:30 at the summit of Torreys and back to the car before five hours elapsed. I skied under the bridge (yes, under) at the trailhead in 55 minutes. I decided to skin up the creek bed/gully instead of the trail since it was a more consistent grade and therefore not as steep, hoping I’d be able to continue using just my kicker skins.

This route worked well, though I got off my intended track, following some snowmobile tracks, but it seemed just as good. My kicker skins were sufficient, barely. Above the tree line the wind kicked up and I got frosted from the blowing snow. The sky was overcast and much gloomier than the previous weekend. Last weekend there were at least twenty people climbing above tree line and another twenty below it. But on this ascent, I was alone. I wouldn’t see another person until I was two miles below tree line.

I got to ski-drop location in an hour and 35 minutes, well ahead of my schedule, but I was cold. In an effort to keep stops to a minimum I had gone too long with just my shirt for protection. The wind was howling as I pulled on my pile sweater and shell. I put on my neck gaiter, hat (over the i360 iPod headband I was already wearing) and switched to my big mittens. Here, much to my chagrin, I discovered that my goggles were broken. The strap had ripped away from the plastic frame and there was no way to repair them. With the wind driving the snow so strongly, this would prove quite unpleasant. I dumped the skis and donned the Microspikes. This time I kept my pack with me, even though the only thing in it was my water bladder. I felt if I left it behind, it would blow away. My water tube was frozen again, but I didn’t transfer the bladder to my bibs just yet. I thought I could maybe unfreeze it by sucking and chewing on it.

Figure 1: The track on top shows the route I took on the ascent. I started off in the gully and then got onto a snowmobile track. The bottom track is the ski descent down the gully. You can also see where the trail goes (labeled Stevens Gulch Rd).

I continued up, on foot, with my head bent low to keep my unprotected face out of the wind. I wasn’t having any success with my water tube and 20 minutes on, two hours into my day, I stopped to pull the bladder out of the pack. But I couldn’t remove it! There is a hook on the bladder and a loop in the pack that goes over that hook and I couldn’t get it off the hook! I pulled off my mittens to do it, but my fingers were frozen in 30 seconds and I had to put them back on. Just kneeling in the snow, my knee started to freeze. My glasses were freezing up and after struggling and cursing for 5 minutes I was within seconds of turning around. Conditions were not conducive to achieving my goal, despite the great start. That’s the way it goes sometimes, I told myself. In frustration, stood up, put my pack on my back and…continued up! I’m not sure why. Maybe to just get warm again. I figured to be faster than last week, even if I couldn’t break five hours. The wind had eased a bit and I could see again.

There hadn’t been much, if any, new snow since last weekend, but the wind had deposited fresh snow on the trail and I would frequently have to break trail. Not for very long, but I was counting on perfect conditions. With the tricky light, hard wind and variable snow, I stumbled and fell a few times. I was rapidly weakening. I had only had two GU’s since I started and no water since the two-mile mark. To even complete the two peaks, I needed some fluid, so I stopped again. The wind wasn’t nearly as bad and I risked pulling off both mittens to get the bladder removed from the pack. I hung it on the top of my bibs, inside my shell, but ten minutes later it was still frozen so I shoved the bladder and hose completely down my pants until it rested around my groin. In five minutes I had it flowing again and would down the complete contents by the summit of Torreys.

All the stops for water issues and the wind and footing slowed me down. What I was hoping to do in an hour took me 81 minutes, but I topped out Grays at exactly 3 hours into my outing. Despite having chemical toe warmers and two socks on, my feet were now freezing. My neck gaiter was frozen into a complete solid, stiff collar. Because of the conditions, I never pulled out my camera. I only paused on the summit of Grays to check the time before stumbling down to the saddle.

Climbing up Torreys was tiring and cold and it took me 27 minutes to the make the trip. I tagged and turned immediately, starting down at 3:27 into the climb. Last week Homie and I left the summit 3:58 into the day, so I was 31 minutes ahead. I needed to be 45 minutes head to break five hours and I now thought I could still do it. This is where I made a near fatal mistake.

Last week Eric told me that he had descended the snow from the saddle. Last week I thought that was a bit aggressive without an ice axe to self arrest, but this week I was being aggressive and, as it turns out, too aggressive. After returning to the saddle from the summit of Torreys, I started down almost directly from the low point and at first I could kick a slight step with my heels in the very hard snow. I wasn’t ready to sit down and glissade, though, since many rocky outcrops were below me. I gripped both of my poles just above the basket, ready to use them as mini ice axes. Then I slipped.

Instantly, I was going way too fast and accelerating. Fear gripped me immediately. I dug in with my toes and poles and was flipped into a cartwheel. At that moment I said to myself, “You’re dead.” I really thought it was over at that point. I’d hit the rocks below at 60 mph and either be instantly killed or so badly injured that I wouldn’t be able to move. And there was no one here to help me.

Figure 2: This GPS track shows my descent route from the saddle. You can even see where I first fell and where I traversed.

Two hundred feet down I hit some softer snow and, working my hands and feet like my life depended on it (and it did), I stopped myself. One of my poles was badly bent, but I didn’t lose my grip on either of them. I was breathing heavily now, scared, knowing that I had nearly died. My glasses were nearly completely covered with snow and it was freezing up. I could hardly see. I tried kicking steps horizontally to at least get away from the rocky fall line I was currently on. Each time a foot would slip my body would tense to tightly and I was quickly becoming fatigued. A couple of times I lunged for handholds in exposed rocks to prevent another slide.

As I got lower and further back towards the trail, I got more relaxed and I slipped again. This time I stopped myself in maybe a hundred feet. Finally, I had traversed enough where the runout seemed safe. I still didn’t want to build up too much speed and to control my slide I laid on my belly with both poles dug in hard and my feet digging in as well. If the speed got too high, I’d tense my four limbs and dig them into the hard snow.

Once the angle eased to the point where I could no longer slide, I started walking back towards the trail. Now I was plunging in occasionally. I wondered if I’d even saved any time over the trail. Not that I’d knowingly risk death to save a few minutes, though that is what I did. Frankly, I shouldn't have been influenced by what Eric had done. Descending rock-hard snow above rocks without crampons or an ice axe was just plain dumb and I know better. I'm lucky to have survived and I won't be making that mistake again...I hope.

I got back to the skis at 4:04, taking 37 minutes to get from Torreys back to the skis. In 5 minutes I was skiing down in completely flat light. I couldn’t see any undulations in the terrain and couldn’t even tell how fast I was going. I fell once from this disorientation, but things went smoothly down to the bridge and I never stopped. Once there I stopped briefly to strip off my kicker skins and now the fun began.

My new skis had completely smooth bottoms and looked and skied more like alpine skis than XC skis. They were freshly waxed and went so fast that I had to snowplow on occasion so that I didn’t take too big of a risk. I was glad the road was devoid of any others because I was smoking. I covered the three miles in 11m25s, averaging 15.5 mph. All three miles were under 4 minutes each and my fastest mile was 3:18. In the last mile I flew by at least ten others coming up the trail. I’d yell out “Track!” I was screamed towards them. They would scatter to the sides and I’d rip by. It was fun. These new skis are awesome.

I hit the parking lot 4h39m after I started, crushing my goal time of 5 hours, despite the conditions and my troubles. I think with perfect conditions and no screw-ups, I could get this under 4h20m. My moving time was 4h04m, so there is still lots of fat in this effort. With better fitness, breaking 4 hours seems within reach.

It is interesting for me to note that the mileage and vertical gain for these two peaks is almost identical to climbing Longs Peak, yet the two are very different. Longs Peak is much, much harder, because the upper 1500 feet on Longs are pretty much trail-less, at least in winter, and depending on the route, it can be the upper 3000 feet. The steep, technical nature of that terrain saps you. Also, on Longs, unless you go up the Trough, skis are useless and the ascent has to be done entirely on foot. Longs takes at least 50% longer than doing Grays and Torreys and it seems like twice the effort.