Related: Rogers Run On Grizzly Shoulder: Deep Days

Report from January 11, 2021

Kaitlin, Guillaume, and I left the Loop Brook parking lot at 8 AM, ready to make the most of our day. We planned on skiing two laps on the moraines, something that’s totally achievable given how short its access is. We followed the glacier-fed Loop Brook, now buried under sizable white pillows. Compared to my previous outing in the early season, crossing the creek was an absolute breeze. A snow bridge had conveniently formed just before the Elephant Trunk, a deep canyon separating the Lily from the Bonney Valleys. This allowed us to easily skin over the fast-moving water. From there, we climbed alongside the slot canyon until we reached a tree island.

Once we reached the tree island, the single uptrack splits into two options:

• Veer left which puts us at the bottom of the forested hill crowned by the Bonney Moraines
• Veer right and continue along the Loop Brook towards Ross Pass which would lead us up Mt Green or Parsons Peak.

After taking a left, we climbed through the trees, spaced almost perfectly for a brisk ascent.

After no more than an hour of easy touring, we poked out of the dense forest into the alpine. The moraines stood, high above us but well within our reach. Since the avalanche hazard was forecasted at “moderate” at all elevations, we put up a conservative uptrack, keeping to the high ground when possible. We followed a gentle ridge that terminated at the top of the eastmost moraines.

As soon as we reached the alpine, the winds picked up from the SW. We started seeing evidence of snow transport, loading our skiable terrain which was lee of the prevailing wind. It wasn’t an immediate concern but still something to consider in the future. It’s worth noting the north-facing slopes of the Bonney Moraines are typically wind-loaded by the prevailing SW winds. Always access your slope stability before committing to the ascent (and descent).

After a quick transition, we dropped into the north slope of the eastern moraine. As expected, the snow quality was excellent: boot-top powder with a firm base – just the right-side-up snow we had hoped for. One thing to note: the last storm cycle had come in rather warm and moist, dumping loads of dense snow. The current conditions reminded Guillaume of the coastal pow he used to ski in Whistler. We zig-zagged down the playful terrain, jumping off buried stumps as much as we could.

After commenting on how good the snow was (and how different from our usual it was), we proceeded through the trees, following a hidden creek bed. Our progress halted once we reached the top of a frozen waterfall. Kaitlin took the skier’s left around the steep pitch while Guillaume and I scoped out the waterfall/pillows below: totally skiable but pretty big. As tasty as it looked, we kept our conservative approach and skied around the feature. I shredded a smaller pillow line to the left. After all, this is the backcountry, not the resort.

Stoked on lap #1, we had a brisk lunch. Our hunger satiated, we toured up the eastern flank of the Bonney Moraines and followed an endless, lateral moraine, from which spanned a series of epic Alaskan spine lines. What a striking sight, from what we could see. As clouds were rolling in and out of the valley, our visibility was waning.

The moment we gained the alpine, a dense cloud blanketed the valley. The flat light made it almost impossible to discern the terrain ahead. After a quick discussion, we settled on climbing back moraine we had initially skied from since we were already familiar with the arrangement. We planned on skiing the NE slope below.

As we gained the moraine, the winds intensified into strong gusts from the SW (probably 80 km/h) that almost blew us off the top. Strange mountain weather! The snow was visibly accumulating on the lee slope. We wasted no time and transitioned for our second lap.

The first 100 meters of the descent were difficult. Some snow had blown into both Kaitlin’s and my googles; the cold had instantly rimed the inside of our lens. With poor visibility and icy googles, we literally felt our way down, to a point where we couldn’t differentiate up from down. After some blind skiing, the ice had finally thawed. We continued along the fall line, on a gentle slope, now peppered with small trees. After a good bit of easy skiing, we connected with our uptrack at the bottom of the forested hill, which we followed down back to the car. All in all, it was an incredible day, albeit with mildly challenging weather conditions. Just another walk in the park (pun intended)!

Route Info

5-6 h	975m	10 km	1100-2095 m

The post Bonney Moraines: Playful, Coastal Pow Laps appeared first on The Uptrack.

Related: 1. Afton Southeast Couloir, Rogers Pass: High Exposure, 2. Swiss Couloir, Rogers Pass: 50-Degrees of Gnar

Report from November 26, 2020

Our day started at the Loop Brook parking lot on a moody day. Thin bands of clouds were swirling around the mountain tops, which made us doubt our decisions to go for the Ross Peak Southeast Couloir. Good visibility was imperative to assess the avalanche hazard from the ridge looming above the couloir. We would be spending hours trenching up the narrow chute, right in the slide’s crosshairs. There was no room for error.

We walked along the Loop Brook, carving a path through deadfall, old avalanche debris, and towering snow pillows, crossing several slidepaths on the Abbott Ridge to the east. As we proceeded up the valley, we scrutinized the east face of Ross Peak, looker’s right of the creek (where the Ross Pillows are located). We were searching for two things:

• An easy way to cross the gentle river without getting our feet wet.
• A workable path through the dense alders on the steep bank.

As our hope waned, we finally found an adequate creek crossing that would put us on the western bank, at the base of a manageable slope, although covered with pesky alders. Phil H., half-man, half-machine, forged a rather “technical” path through the alders as he climbed the east face of Ross Peak. We then traversed through a band of dense trees, requiring a bushwhack that would test the most patient of men. We emerged out of the trees on a planar slope connecting the east face to its SE counterpart.

The lower S-SE slope was a pain to traverse. Two deep canyons, carved over the years by meltwater, slowed our progress down to a snail’s pace. We manage a crossing on a high bench after a series of dicey alder-acrobatics, courtesy of Phil H. Finally, we could freely ascend the rest of the slope to the base of our objective, the Southeast Couloir of Ross Peak.

After breaking an exhausting trail through steep and deep powder, we stumbled across a large bowl from which we could see two of our options.

• Looker’s right: a narrow, straight, couloir with two obvious chokes, a frozen waterfall at the bottom, and a thin snowpack.
• Looker’s left: a wider, S-shaped, couloir with little to no chokes and a seemingly deeper snowpack.

We choose the looker’s right line since mother nature had already done the avalanche control work for us. It had already slid from top to bottom, most likely the day prior. While I was still worried about reactive wind slabs on the climber’s left of the couloir as well as solar warming if the sun was to poke out, most of the residual avalanche hazard had been dealt with naturally. On top of that, the firm bed surface that carpeted the chute would make breaking-trail on foot much easier. Just our luck!

As we popped into the lower fan, my jaw-dropped. This was going to be one hell of a ski. We spotted the frozen waterfall that had to be climbed to get past the first quarter of the ascent. Phil H. managed to snake his way through the ice while maintaining a solid foothold on underlying rocks. It turns out, the icefall wasn’t much of a hurdle, either on the up or down.

As we climbed higher, the bootpack was getting more and more demanding. the firm snow first encountered morphed into thigh-deep snow, just soft enough to punch through to the ground. The overhead avalanche hazard was always in the back of my mind, chipping away at my confidence. It would have been so easy to turn around, but we didn’t – we pressed on. At one point, we were trenching through tits-deep snow. That didn’t stop Phil H. from steamrolling up the 45-degree incline. This man has always downplayed his achievements, but really he’s a bootpack beast.

Finally, as we approached the upper quarter, the clouds parted revealing the couloir’s terminus. So close! At one point, the snow was simply too deep to progress. If it wasn’t hard enough already, we were punching through a stiff winds slab on our left. Phil H. was literally trying to swim uphill. Snowshoes or ascent plates would have been a must in this case.

After debating for a few minutes, we decided on dropping from here, maybe 30 meters from the top. Hell! We were close to our turn around time of 3 PM, the avalanche hazard was increasing as we went up and dense clouds had started to roll in the valley bottom. In retrospect, it was the right decision. As the bottom of the chute vanished in the clouds, we clipped into our bindings. 3-2-1-dropping!

The snow was excellent. Tossed-up powder over a nice firm base, perfect for railing down fast turns. Midway down, the fog moved on revealing the lower, more challenging section. With a boost of confidence, both Phils sent a booter into the lower half of the chute, skipping over a patch of rocks in the process. As we approached the bottom, we maneuvered over the frozen waterfall without trouble and raced past the exit fan. What a run!

I suggested not following our uber-technical uptrack. Instead, we skied down the SE face and joined up with the standard uptrack that winds through the Elephant Trunk, a deep canyon where glacial runoff from the Lily and Bonney Glaciers meet. In other words, we skied down the SE face towards the Loop Brook as if we were heading to the bottom of the Bonney Moraines’ exit. We traversed the creek and followed the mellow slope down towards the Elephant Trunk. From there, we faced the usual early season struggles – running water, alders, exposed rocks and buried pines. Eventually, we crawled back to our vehicles, exhausted from all the bushwhacking. All in all, the day was very much a slog but I was still stoked to have skied the Ross Peak Southeast Couloir, a legendary line.

Route Info

7-8 h	1250m	9.5 km	1330-2290 m

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