Emerson and I had a simple mission. Get up early, ski the Northwest Couloir of the Pfiefferhorn, and make it to work in time for lunch. The problem with our plan was the 10″ of snow and the 70mph gusts of winds the previous night which put a big question mark on potential avalanche hazards.
Long before we were even on the snow, while we were still driving up the canyon, we were already having an in-depth conversation about snow conditions, route options, and the chances that we’d actually ski our objective. Obviously, a line with a cliff in the middle of it means that any avalanche is a potentially life-threatening one, so we were pretty skeptical given the chance of cross-loading in the couloir.
We started by breaking trail in nearly a foot of new snow, and we could already tell that it came in a bit upside down. As the skinner up Red Pine continued, we started coming across wind-thrashed zones and related deposits, which once again made us concerned about cross loading in the couloir. Then we neared the top of Red Pine to find a giant cornice above the ridge where you generally exit. So, we skinned and booted a while in the wrong direction to gain the ridge without exposing ourselves.
The trip across the ridge was an awesome display of early light illuminating rime iced rocks and unreal wind-sculpted formations, and we continued talking through conditions and potential bail-out options. The southeast face itself was very wind-loaded with lots of exposed terrain below it, but we were able to hug east ridge and stay mostly on the rock, which made the going more complicated but also safer.
On top we were left with one final question to answer. But, it turned out that all our worries about cross loading were misplaced. Instead, the wind had come directly up the couloir and scraped it completely clean of any new snow. This was good news for avalanche potential, but bad news for sketchy skiing conditions. After scouting the entrance a bit, we eventually decided that we could do it safely and made the decision to go.
And then my fucking boot broke.
Emerson and I spent about 45 minutes on top trying to get my boot into ski mode. We hit it against rocks and the other boot, we poked at it with a whippet pole, we got out the multi tool and removed screws, and eventually came to the conclusion that it just wasn’t happening.
So, after spending the whole day thinking we were going to end up bailing because of avalanche hazard and then finding the line to be safe, we ended up bailing because of a broken piece of gear. We were bummed, but mostly we were just so stoked to be in the mountains having a little adventure that we didn’t really care.
Of course, as we neared the bottom of the Pfeifferhorn the boot miraculously clicked back into ski mode. But, by then it was too late to turn around and head back up, so we settled for skiing powder tree runs back to the car and being late for lunch instead.
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