Skiing Mt Holly

As the saying goes, "Skiing is like sex: when it's bad...it's still good." Today was a tried and true testament to that saying. My supervisor had invited me for an assault on a peak called Mt Holly about an hour and a half north of Cedar City. Being the first time I'd get to take my skis on a back country peak of decent size (a huge change from the crevasse ridden hills of Ross Island in Antarctica) I barely hesitated to charge a nearly 12,000 ft peak. I was picked up at 0800 and we were on the road around 0830 after picking up Ben's (friend and supervisor) friend. Mt Holly is easily accessed via Elk Meadows Ski Resort which has been abandoned for quite some time. We pulled into the parking lot around 1000. We changed quickly, packed our packs, and started hiking by 1030. We could have skinned but it was just as easy (if not easier) to just hoof it for the 2 miles or so to the summit. The hike to the summit was challenging but doable. Going from 200 ft elevation to 5600 ft elevation to starting a 2+ mile hike to 11,895 ft from 10,400 ft will put anyone's lungs to the test. After a hard push up a 1/4 mile up a 40-50 degree ridge, we stood proudly atop the summit and soaked in the view of the surrounding peaks and valleys. After a 30 minute break it was time to do what we had came to this place for: to ski! I happily unstrapped my skis from my pack, locked myself into my bindings, switch my boots from walk mode to ski mode, and volunteered to bring up the rear as we skied down a small bowl on the SE side of the summit. Here's where life got fun...

I made it 100 ft down the bowl when I went from happy and free to buried head first to my shoulders in snow. I dug my self out and started to figure out what the hell had happened. I looked down and realized that my Randonee bindings had unlocked; my 'free heel' (which is supposed to be locked when skiing downhill) swinging wildly in the wind. Now, I had this problem once or twice while skiing in Antarctica...but beacuse of the crevasses on the island, there wasn't much room for carving nice turns. So if you wanted to enjoy downhill skiing, you had to gun it straight down the trail (The Castle Rock Trail to be exact). I figured when I started carving hard, my heel lock came undone. No problem, clean out the snow and lock them again. I started skiing again only to have my heel unlock again twisting my knee pretty good and face planting me, again, into the snow. Got up, regained composure, tried again. Again, twisted knee and face plant. Now I figured something big was up. I hiked down to where Ben and his friend were waiting for me. When we looked at my skis, we noticed that the person that had mounted my bindings mounted the heel lock less than a 1/4 inch to far back on my skis...far back enough where if you put a little pressure against the lock, it opens without any problem....pretty dangerous if you're skiing. So choosing not to risk tearing every ligament in my knee, I decided to hike nearly a mile to a coral at the base of the bowl where everyone was waiting for me. I quickly learned that hiking down a slope in knee to thigh deep snow is harder than hiking up a slope in shin deep snow. After an hour of cussing and sloshing through snow, I made it to the bottom only to realize through the slosh and tumble that could barely be called a descent, I lost my smaller Canon Powershot camera. Oh well. I go through roughly one a year so I figured it was time. Being at the bottom was a relief...the rest of the hike back was done mostly on skis with climbing skins. Considering that my heel lock wasn't working, I figured I was in the clear with skinning back to the truck. About 1/2 a mile into the trek, one of my skins stop sticking to my ski all together...which not many people ever think about until you realize how much your other ski runs over said skin when you're trying to move. Annoying as hell is the only phrase I can think of to describe this situation. 2 hours later, I finally managed to limp back to the truck after contouring around a knob for nearly a mile and trying to descend a few more hills.

So all in all, a day trying to ski turned into a hike from hell, a sprained knee, a reality check of a defective binding mount to my ski, a trashed climbing skin, and a missing camera with nearly 60 un-downloaded photos. There was even one moment where I was so mad I threw my skis only to quickly see through my rage at the stupidity of this act and tried to slosh down-slope after them. Luckily they nosed into a patch of soft snow a couple hundred feet away. Ben, feeling sorry for me and sore from laughing at me, had a beer waiting for me (PBR to be exact) at the truck. I downed it, changed, chucked my stuff in the back of his truck, and climbed in nearly happy to get the hell off the mountain. I was hoping to get out to ski again before June but I doubt that will happen. Right now, I need to focus on taking my skis back to the shop I had the bindings mounted, talking to them, and, if it comes down to it, buying new skis and a set of skins...which will obviously come later on in the summer...right now I'm too broke.

Like I said, when it's bad...it's still good.

Sidenote: I had plenty of photos from the day but, as stated, I lost my camera. When I get photos from Ben, I'll post them.