Hardwear Sessions

Soon we are thigh deep again; David, Petit, and Forrest in the long chute between vertical rock walls we spotted yesterday, Danny up the open bowl to the north, and Rodolfo nursing a swollen knee back at camp. We all find our pace, in tune with the rhythm of this amazing space. The 3-day old sliver of the moon hangs just above the summit of this perfect coulior (we decide to call this run "Luna"... in that vain human we-gotta-name-it because we're the first ones here mentality).

At 3pm we are looking out once again over the vastness of peaks and valleys imagining a helicopter and the possibilities and grateful for the peace of our leg-powered ascent. Clouds are building in the distance. One at a time we feel the boards beneath our feet and let gravity bring us the speed and flow we are seeking... over 3,000 ft. to the sun-soaked valley below. Does it get any better?

(Quote of the day: "Man, it would suck to be a bum." -- Forrest on sleeping with two other stinky guys in a tent after a sleepless night of snoring and condensation.)

Sept. 17th, 2007

The high pressure is holding...beauty and sunshine in Cerro Castillo. Cerro Palo towers over us to the west. Birds are beginning to sing songs of spring here in the southern hemisphere. There is something magical about living in wild places during seasonal transitions... the constant change and the reminder of impermanence...the connection one feels moment by moment to the surroundings.

More coffee, mate, pancakes, nutella, nuts, raisins... enjoying the morning, and getting ready for another exploration on snow (like a herd of turtles). Our legs are happily weary from the last three days, and we ponder our destination for today. Danny is already a spot of color in the distance as he heads up the "Wishbone" couloir we've been eyeing from camp since day one. Rodolfo is packing up to leave a couple days early with a swollen knee and an incessant cough. David, Forrest, and Petit sip coffee and tea and slowly skin up to the songs of Martin Sexton.

After six days together, it seems we are all craving a bit of solo time as we skin up the valley at our own pace, each with our own tunes and thoughts. The sun is shining, wild parakeets fly overhead, snow melts alongside the stream that has been providing us with water all week, and we scan the territory for today's challenge.

Danny makes his way up the steep open face north of camp while David skins up the steep open bowl to the east in one big switchback and Petit and Forrest decide on a rock outcropping for views and sun-soaking and photographs before hiking up and over into a couloir that is a straight 2,500 ft. shot back to camp. It is a passion for snow and adventure and connection that brings us all here together sharing these Patagonia moments.

We opted for a pleasant non-boot-packing day (aside from Danny's ascent of "Wishbone"). David, Forrest, and Petit enjoy a steep skin up to the precariously stacked rocks below Cerro Castillo for more views and the entrance to another classic couloir (this one is given the name "Poser" for our countless photos of each other at the top). The soft spring snow of this west-facing run brings us back to base camp for and afternoon of sunny relaxation and dreaming of future trips to this area.

Danny and Rodolfo are headed back out to the village, and Danny will return tomorrow with a re-stock of chocolate and whiskey...priorities, priorities...

Hilarity and inspiration continue under a night blue sky, light clouds, and a waxing moon...

"Once in a while it really hits people that they don't have to experience the world in the way they've been told to." - Alan Keightley

Sept. 19th, 2007

We sit in our deteriorating (melting) kitchen with our dwindling food supply and pass the time with an Italian card game and re-reading Powder Magazine for the 18th time. Yesterday the clouds and snow returned, filling the valley with a hazy fog and keeping us in the warmth of our tents. We imagined Rodolfo last night back in "town" celebrating the Sept. 18th Dia de Independencia de Chile and his birthday as he limped onto the dance floor with his injured knee and debilitating cough. Danny is back, and our chocolate and whiskey supply is replenished...just on time for these down-days.

It feels good to rest the body after five days of burning and turning. Our Mountain Hardwear gear has served us well in every climate we've encountered. And now we enjoy the down jackets and hot drinks and slow snowy day flow at base camp. It is our last full day out here. We ration dry bread, dabs of mustard, salami slices, and Gu. Life is sweet.

Forrest and Danny decide on a limited visibility ascent out of camp for some final turns. David and Petit read and write and watch snowflakes grow and float to the ground.

We are here, yet our minds and palates have begun to wander back to the village below that offers the opportunity for showers and fresh food. The final full day of an expedition... bittersweet. We have created a home here, so far from "home".

Mossy rocks are revealed in the melting snow by the stream. The Chilean breeze carries aloft the smell of spring and leaky fuel bottles, and sweaty skiers. Forrest and Danny disappear into the whiteout and call back on the radio in breathless frustration and excitement. Dark clouds swirl above. We are humbled.

Sept. 20th, 2007

It is day 11, and we shall depart for the village below in a few hours under snowy skies. Spring sun fights to burn through fast-moving clouds. A break in the storm brightens our orange kiva where we sit sharing oatmeal pancakes topped with raspberry Clif Shots (a somehow delicious tasting combo of what we have left). We pack up and share stories of the past 10 days and cravings for clean clothes and home-cooked meals.

Snow camping comes with the pleasure of creating temporary structures and stairways and benches and "shitters". We break down camp, rid of our human traces, and are left standing in a vacant white space near a stream in the white world of Patagonia backcountry. There is a long pause before we begin the four-hour skinning/hiking descent to meet Rodolfo and the Toyota and the curious sheep in the valley below. Within this pause is the silence of these majestic peaks, the spring songs of birds, sunshine winning the sky fight with the clouds, and shared glances and grins of a successful expedition.

We will be back.

It's amazing the amount of change the seasons bring in 11 days. The snow has melted from much of the trail, turning to small creeks and feeding the now budding trees. Quickly we are on worn dirt trails heading down the valley with skis on our backs and weary legged ski boot steps. We look over our shoulders to catch views of Cerro Palo and the Castillo that framed our camp and snowy peaks in the distance calling us back for more.

We reach the Toyota just in time to take a group photos and pack up before the windy downpour begins. Mother Nature has been good to us. Once again, a loaded pick up with five snow seekers bouncing along the muddy dirt road lined with wildlife and Patagonia farms and fields. Cerro Castillo fades from our view as we drive in silence contemplating the past 11 days and anticipating the hot showers and meals that await.

The same smiling Chilean women at the hotel/restaurant/bar/ storage-space-for-backcountry-skiers greet us, still stoking fires and cooking hot meals. We fill ourselves with fresh cooked chicken (probably the same one that was pecking at our gear when we arrived), papas fritas, cervezas, y ensalada con tomate y palta. Outside the heavy rain pounds the tin roof and we imagine the snow that is falling to cover our tracks up high; eleven long, beautiful, hard-earned Patagonia descents between the five of us. A successful journey.

A sleepy-eyed one-hour drive north and we are in Coyhaique at a European style hotel/ restaurant offering hot showers and fine food and wine. Never underestimate the joy of hot showers and fine wine...

... Salud!

"The mountains in the distance hold my life in a bowl filled with everything I could possibly want." - Anon.

Sept. 21st, 2007

Buenas dias...

Vernal equinox is here in the southern hemisphere as rain turns to snow in this small Chilean town of Coyhaique, one hour north of the mountains in which we spent the last 2 weeks exploring the awe inspiring peaks and couloirs and future possibilities of ski touring. The northern hemisphere celebrates the autumnal equinox as days get shorter and cooler and leaves and acorns decorate the ground.

As with the end of any expedition, we are feeling both a fulfillment from the incredible moments we have experienced here and a sort of post-expedition emptiness (like the space in between words or the pause between breaths) that must be a form of withdrawal. We are inspired and humbled. We are grateful for the snow and the sunshine and the hot showers and the fine wine and the Chilean hospitality. We are grateful for the quality Mountain Hardwear gear that makes such endeavors possible.

Hasta el proximo aventura...

...que vaya bien.

"Live each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each." - Thoreau