Some friends and I just spent 9 days skiing in the Wind River mountains of Eastern Wyoming (edit - yup, Western, oops). Our trip was made possible in part by my partner's incredible backcountry planning skills, and also thanks to some huge help from Backcountry.com, whose incredibly cool super-employee, who many of you know and may or may not know you know, saw the potential in our trip and supported us with some much needed equipment. Finding someone who doesn't already shop on their site might be tricky, but if you can, tell them to come out of their cave and support this company. Also, lonestar lives in the area and gave me some much needed beta on the then-current snowpack.
UPDATED:
So yeah... it wasn't easy, and it wasn't perfectly executed, but we had the weather, the snowpack, and the right group to go after it.
Here is a short write-up with a few photos, hopefully I can get together with Davide and Tyler and get some more stuff up soon. We went in to Titcomb Basin from the Elkhart trailhead out of Pinedale, WY. In all, Dave stayed only 4 days while Tyler and I stayed 9. On the way to Titcomb, we spent some time under Mt. Lester skiing lines in that area before heading up under the bigger peaks.
Our slightly improvised approach brought us farther east than the normal summer trail and afforded us some views of the peaks south of Fremont and Jackson. This is looking across the Pole Creek Lakes region towards Angel Peak, although I believe these ridges aren't named on the map:
The next day, we came in high around the east shore of Seneca Lake and were finally given some close up views of Fremont. Notice Tyler's homemade sled, of which we had two for towing the booze and fireworks.
That afternoon, we narrowly escaped, by literally 30 seconds, being in a high pass when lighting came down. We set up base camp right under the NE face of Mt. Lester, which we skied in the morning. On the way up, we had a great view of Woodrow Wilson, and the ice couloir which ascends, or descends, its S Face. This line called to us from miles away, and we would attempt it in a few days. By the way, that's Gannet Peak, highest point in Wyoming, peeking over the right shoulder of Woodrow:
Tyler nearing the summit of Lester:
The summit was awesome. The peak stands at only 12,342 ft, but as the guidebook says, its prominence as a peak which stands away from the continental divide makes it seem badass. Or something like that. Davide entering the choke in the bottom of the line:
It was a great run which we skied all the way into base camp, and promptly sat down and cooked lunch. Perfect! For all we know it could be a first descent because there is no information out there about skiing in the Winds. After lunch we headed up the other side of the valley towards Elephant's Head, where looking back at our line off Lester gave us better perspective than being parked at the bottom of it. Our line goes from the left summit down the ridge to the right until a more rock-free, open hanging bowl drops down the face. It finishes through the biggest choke in the lower cliff band:
We skied a couple runs near Ellingwood Peak, before having some alpenglow for dinner on the way back to camp. Davide always goes fast:
At this point, Davide bailed and exited solo without a map. Quite a feat in itself. Tyler and I headed up into upper Titcomb basin. Here he is crossing the upper lake. Shit looks close. It isn't:
As you finally gain the last basin as far up into the upper east reaches of Titcomb as you can possibly go, the NW couloir of Mt. Helen finally becomes visible. Bitch of a bootpack:
But great snow. Maybe the most incredible line I've ever seen and skied. See Tyler the Ant?
We bivied that night and then finally headed up to try our luck on the couloir of Woodrow Wilson we spotted days before. On the way up we got some great views of how big that coolie on Helen really was, while Mt. Sacagawea and Fremont Peak finish out the ridge to the right:
We then gained the Sphynx Glacier, which is melting faster than a.... well... you better get up there soon before its gone:
Well it turns out, as the guidebook says, and as Davide spitefully predicted days before from miles away; its an ice line. We got a ways up it, but we were front pointing and climbing a little too much rock and water ice to think that sendin' er 16 miles from our car was too good of an idea. So we bailed about a third of the way up:
Big disappointment only lasts so long when you are immediately feasting on glacial corn. Tyler again, posing as the ant:
And one last look over at Helen on our way down, our tracks should be visible if you try real hard:
And then the exit. What a bitch that was. Bumpy, muddy, low snow, manky manky mank mank ma mank. But we made it! And then went to the Wrangler Cafe, a Pinedale-must-visit, for french fries with gravy. And you thought poutine and glaciers were only in Canada.
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