As the old ski mantra “no friends on a powder day” goes, it’s about getting first tracks at a resort, and if you can’t keep up, then see you at the bottom. It’s an individual sport. But as soon as you step out into the backcountry, it becomes a different animal. A changing of the mindset from “me-first” to a team activity. While I’ve taken multiple AIARE training courses and they’ve talked about group dynamics in sport, it wasn’t until last week did I realize how crucial it really is. Due to bad teamwork, I ended up sliding on ice across a 45+ degree pitch for almost three hundred vertical feet, finally being stopped by a small set of trees. At the end of day, I was ashamed and horrified. All I could think about was how did this happen?
Pushing My Limits
From our local ski resort, we’d seen these peaks dozens of times. Steep and foreboding. Big bowls, tight chutes, and plenty of gnar. While I was excited to explore a new area, my nerves were already a bit frayed. Looking at CalTopo, it was some of the steepest terrain I had ever skied out of bounds and near my limits inbounds. We had multiple options planned out with the Number 1 objective being the steepest and rowdiest followed by an array of others each based on our snow observations.
The Day Dawns Bright
With our plan set, we ventured out towards our zone. My stomach was in knots as I quietly took in the environment. The peaks looked especially big this morning. Craggier than I remembered. We checked in with ski patrol and gave them our route plan. Looking it over, they excitedly exclaimed “Oh this is a perfect day to hit your main objective.” Observing the snow and the weather, it seemed they were right.
Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde
Taking the lift, my partner exclaimed “Oh man I’m pumped! I can’t wait to ski that chute!” All the snow observations pointed to it being good. I, on the other hand, gulped nervously. This was edging me out of my comfort zone. Strapping into my splitboard, we zoomed down the ridge as far as we could and then transitioned to hiking to the next peak. In a few minutes, we crested.
The issue we realized was that there wasn’t an easy or obvious way from that high point. The ridgeline was barren of snow and either required a down climb or traverse. After looking at our options, we finally decided to down climb and then traverse. Finally out of the bullseye or so it seemed, we transitioned onto our skins.
Nerves Begin To Frazzle
As we began to climb, the small mellow hill from the ski resort was MUCH steeper than I expected. The climb initially started off well, but as the ascent continued, the pitch started to roll to my left. Almost near the top, the snow surface became bullet proof. A mix of ice, wind buff, and frozen snow crystals. Suddenly my edges begin to lose grip.
Equivalent of Snow Quick Sand
I try to inch forward, but my splitboard skis slid again. To the left, while it probably wasn’t as steep as I imagined, my mind began to play tricks on me. Images of the movie Everest started popping into my head. Just sliding to my death. I was frozen. I’ve never skied in my life and so skinning on firm snow is hands down my weakest skill.
Frustration Mounts
There I was stuck. My partner, some twenty feet ahead of me, stood there quietly giving no encouragement or guidance. It looked as if he was frustrated or so it seemed. What was I to do? I couldn’t go backwards. It was impossible to sit. If I try to move forward again, there was a good chance I would slide even further down. I was pissed.
Thank Goodness For Crampons
Suddenly an idea came to me – crampons! Splitboard crampons are claw-like devices that are the perfect tool in this situation. Made of metal – usually aluminum, they’re an essential accessory for spring touring. Think of them as 4WD Low, making climbing on hard crust or ice easier. The question was how could I get them on without sliding even more?
An Eternity
Slowly I scratched into the surface with my ski pole so that I had a place to rest my knee. I then ripped my bag off and pulled out the ski crampons. Dropping down onto my knee, I unstrapped one foot and put on the crampon. I then put my boot back into the binding carefully so I didn’t lose it. I then nervously did my 2nd foot. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally was locked in tighter than a Swiss bank vault.
Confidence Blown
Trudging up to my partner, he said nothing. Instead, he turned around and quietly proceeded forward. Mentally exhausted from the ordeal, I wasn’t feeling the chute he wanted to ski.
I then said, “So it sounds like you’re pretty set on doing the chute.”
“Absolutely, snow is perfect! I don’t know when the next time it will be this good.”
He was pretty set on doing the chute, but my confidence was just not there. I then offered an alternative that I didn’t really like but felt as though it was the only option he would agree to.
“What if I did the first bowl and you do the chute?”
“That works.”
With radios in hand, we made the decision for him to watch me from the top so he could see me ride it just in case something happened.
A LOOONNNGG Slide
Quickly I transitioned from ski mode into splitboard mode. Strapping in, I let him know I was dropping in 5. I tentatively inched over the roll over and made a turn. It was bullet proof. Hard pock marked ice that was buffed to a perfect sheen from the wind. I gently made a turn onto my toe side and then back to my heel side. Bam! My board lost its edge and I slid. With nothing but ice and a steep pitch, the only thing I could do was direct the slide.
Uncontrolled Slide
Gaining speed, all I could think about was not ending at the bottom going 50 mph on my butt. I then saw three tiny trees sticking up from the surface. I didn’t know if it was a good idea or not, but I pointed myself in that direction. With the help of them, I finally came to an abrupt halt. My ego was bruised. Confidence broken. Luckily nothing was injured. What the hell had I gotten myself into? I then waited at the bottom away from any potential snow and watched as my partner dropped in. He hooted and hollered. The snow was perfection. I stood there steaming.
Debrief
At the end of the day as we always do, we did a debrief to learn from the day and our mistakes. So, what happened?
Broke The #1 Rule
One of the #1 foundational principals when touring is to: “Travel together. Decide together.” While we decided to split up, it wasn’t because I wanted to, but I felt that he was unwilling to ski anything else.
Misunderstanding Of Goals
I thought the day was focused on exploring the new zone, and if we both felt confident to ski the chute. As the AIARE field book specifically states, “When the terrain or conditions are unfamiliar, or the group is uncertain, choose less exposed terrain.” He on the other hand saw it as if the snow was good, we were going to ski the chute. Our objectives didn’t match, and since it was new terrain, I expected (assumed) we would choose the less exposed terrain.
Compatibility Of Risk Tolerance
Personally, my risk tolerance is MUCH lower than my partner’s. He’s a stronger skier than me and is known to crush chutes, couloirs, and cliffs like Superman. While I have skied terrain as steep as the chute, I was nervous about it. Having my confidence degraded due to the skinning SNAFU didn’t help.
Miscommunication
On my side, I should’ve communicated that I felt like I was stuck doing it. Rather, we could’ve decided to look at Bowl A and the top of the chute together. We would’ve then seen that the snow was terrible in the bowl, and both decided that the chute was the best option. In addition, if I still felt uncomfortable, we would then pick the less exposed route – Bowl C.
After we talked through all of this, we realized that the group dynamics in sport was the part that we needed to work on. While the snow safety and trip planning were on point, it was our communication and willingness to take in each other’s perspective on the situation that needed fine tuning.
Return To The Scene Of The Crime
After a year of thinking about this day and working on our mistakes in the Tahoe Backcountry we return better equipped and ready. The question is did we do enough to improve? You can read about our 2nd attempt here: Retribution in Tahoe Backcountry – Conquering The Chute.
