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Based on the text given below determine the popularity of the Chute the Moon Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the popularity please return "unsure". The popularity should be one of the following options: not popular, somewhat popular, very popular. Here is the text: Bobbi Chutes The Moon! - Chute The Moon Couloir, 25 Short/Peak 10,696 - Grand Teton Nat. Park, WY (04.16.22) [image] This weekend I had the pleasure of joining Bobbi Clemmer on her first ever... ever... couloir ski descent - and I'm happy to report she knocked the ball out of the park! Chute The Moon was the name of the game, one of the few and finest "entry-level" couloirs in the Tetons. Load the beast with knee deep powder and you have a recipe for an exceptional day. [image] All smiles after two feet of fresh snow in Bobbi's first Grand Teton National Park couloir - Chute The Moon! Even more enjoyable when bundled in my expedition puffy - we call it "black mallow" Though definitely a topic for it's own article, it's been an absolute joy watching Bobbi Clemmer bloom as a backcountry skier this season. Besides a half dozen "one-off" days, 2022 has been her first winter on skis. Money doesn't grow on trees (cough cough, Targhee), so she's been learning almost exclusively in the backcountry. Given the low snow of January and February, most of our skiing has taken place in March and April. Two weeks ago we skied Mount Glory for her second and third times, and last weekend was a glorious powder run on 25 Short. To say I've been impressed is an understatement. Though admittedly biased, I can't really imagine the feeling of clicking into a pair of skis at 10,000 feet in Grand Teton National Park having only skied twenty times. Like what?! In my opinion that's the definition of badass, especially considering she managed the 3,500 foot descent in good style - only two falls, minimum stops and even a few hop turns on some chicken-scratch pow up high, four-some hours car to car - booyah. After a week of heavy snow, 41 inches to be exact, I was back to the drawing board, psyched to get out again with my budding winter adventure buddy. Instead of drowning in low angle pow, we aimed to ratchet up the slope angle and get Bobbi into her first couloir. Chute The Moon, diving north into Avalanche Canyon from the 25 Short/Peak 10,696 saddle, was the logical "first couloir" choice. The line is prized for ease of access, a forgiving slope and broad walls, while still providing a very real and incredibly scenic alpine ski mountaineering experience. I had only skied Chute The Moon once before in atrocious conditions (en route to Buck Mountain's East Face), so it wasn't just Bobbi who was excited for a new descent. Approach We approached Chute The Moon via Mavericks, the large lightly gladed buttress south of 25 Short, below Peak 10,696. I had never skinned up "Mavs" before, so my crusty "I've seen this 20 times before" Grand Teton National Park approach mindset was pleasantly stimulated. We started at 9:00AM, with three friends as a party of five, but got slimmed back down to the Brandon & Bobbi show around 9,700 feet (heal up, Carl and Bailey!). While skiing with the crew would have been a blast, Chute The Moon is a true couloir with confined acreage for fresh turns and a real avalanche slope, so reduced group size wasn't the worst thing for safety's sake. Hand pits and pole probing revealed about 30 inches of well bonded snow with minimal slab formation. Skinning beneath the east face of Peak 10,696 was the crux of the day, but the wind-hammered slope showed no signs of instability. Following Bobbi's pace with a little bit of trail breaking from your's truly, we reached the ~10,200 foot saddle-summit of Chute The Moon at 12:30PM. [image] Bobbi cresting Mavericks en-route to the moon. Peak 10,696 is the highpoint straight ahead. Chuting The Moon Chute The Moon looked almost too good to be true, a dreamy canvas of white fluff deliciousness with no signs of the dreaded wind slab I'd been fearing for the past few days. The two fine gentlemen who broke trail from Mavs to the summit dropped first, making splendid work of the deep, deep pow. As we ate homemade bagel sandwiches and stared into the abyss, I could see excitement percolating through every pore of Bobbi's face. She was in the zone. I dropped first to set up for pictures, nearly front-flipping over the handlebars after an ambitious initial launch. Don't misconstrue this as a complaint, but this powder wasn't exactly quintessential Teton "cold smoke" - we'll go with lightly sweetened, wind whipped cream cheese - Oregon on a cold day - grounds to recalibrate from Teton charge mode to backseat surf mode. Watching Bobbi drop in was the highlight of the day. The difference in her skiing, from learning to link turns in Teton Pass last December to dropping into a 35 degree couloir at 10,200 feet in Grand Teton National Park with little trepidation made me too proud. She was really gettin' it! Her turns flowed soundly for the whole 650 feet, stopping only once for a little lactic acid relief. No dumps or topples, just smiles and good style - I love my days in the steep and spicy, but this right here is what skiing is all about. [image] Bobbi chutes the moon! [image] Big turns in big places [image] Shameless celebration selfies! Rain, Rocks & Potatoes The last lesson for sweet Bobbi to learn on this fine April day is one of the cruelest realities of ski mountaineering, that amazing skiing (if there even is any) is usually only about 10% of the pie. Enter stage left - the Avalanche Canyon out-track in heavy, sticky, rain smattered snow. At least we scored 1,500 feet of mostly great powder in the north fork, because the canyon bottom was on its' worst behavior. Isothermal boulder fields, a few edge-tuning rocks, abundant sidestepping, even more abundant ski base globbing, a three-quarters-melted Taggart Lake, two grouchy tourists and some tediously slow flat-land skating... if you've been there, you know. Once again, hats off to Wonder Woman for keeping a cool head. Six-some hours later we were popping LaCroix's on the trusty Hyundai hatchback, eating homemade almond butter cookies and celebrating a first couloir well shredded. Adventuring with this lady and watching her conquer her goals makes me very happy. More snow next week? Alright... alright - I guess I'll lean into this "Feburary in April" sorta deal. [video] A short top-to-bottom video of your's truly in Chute The Moon [image] My peanut butter queen ♥️ Please return the popularity below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the duration of the Chute the Moon Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the duration please return "unsure". The duration should be a number with units of hours. Here is the text: Bobbi Chutes The Moon! - Chute The Moon Couloir, 25 Short/Peak 10,696 - Grand Teton Nat. Park, WY (04.16.22) [image] This weekend I had the pleasure of joining Bobbi Clemmer on her first ever... ever... couloir ski descent - and I'm happy to report she knocked the ball out of the park! Chute The Moon was the name of the game, one of the few and finest "entry-level" couloirs in the Tetons. Load the beast with knee deep powder and you have a recipe for an exceptional day. [image] All smiles after two feet of fresh snow in Bobbi's first Grand Teton National Park couloir - Chute The Moon! Even more enjoyable when bundled in my expedition puffy - we call it "black mallow" Though definitely a topic for it's own article, it's been an absolute joy watching Bobbi Clemmer bloom as a backcountry skier this season. Besides a half dozen "one-off" days, 2022 has been her first winter on skis. Money doesn't grow on trees (cough cough, Targhee), so she's been learning almost exclusively in the backcountry. Given the low snow of January and February, most of our skiing has taken place in March and April. Two weeks ago we skied Mount Glory for her second and third times, and last weekend was a glorious powder run on 25 Short. To say I've been impressed is an understatement. Though admittedly biased, I can't really imagine the feeling of clicking into a pair of skis at 10,000 feet in Grand Teton National Park having only skied twenty times. Like what?! In my opinion that's the definition of badass, especially considering she managed the 3,500 foot descent in good style - only two falls, minimum stops and even a few hop turns on some chicken-scratch pow up high, four-some hours car to car - booyah. After a week of heavy snow, 41 inches to be exact, I was back to the drawing board, psyched to get out again with my budding winter adventure buddy. Instead of drowning in low angle pow, we aimed to ratchet up the slope angle and get Bobbi into her first couloir. Chute The Moon, diving north into Avalanche Canyon from the 25 Short/Peak 10,696 saddle, was the logical "first couloir" choice. The line is prized for ease of access, a forgiving slope and broad walls, while still providing a very real and incredibly scenic alpine ski mountaineering experience. I had only skied Chute The Moon once before in atrocious conditions (en route to Buck Mountain's East Face), so it wasn't just Bobbi who was excited for a new descent. Approach We approached Chute The Moon via Mavericks, the large lightly gladed buttress south of 25 Short, below Peak 10,696. I had never skinned up "Mavs" before, so my crusty "I've seen this 20 times before" Grand Teton National Park approach mindset was pleasantly stimulated. We started at 9:00AM, with three friends as a party of five, but got slimmed back down to the Brandon & Bobbi show around 9,700 feet (heal up, Carl and Bailey!). While skiing with the crew would have been a blast, Chute The Moon is a true couloir with confined acreage for fresh turns and a real avalanche slope, so reduced group size wasn't the worst thing for safety's sake. Hand pits and pole probing revealed about 30 inches of well bonded snow with minimal slab formation. Skinning beneath the east face of Peak 10,696 was the crux of the day, but the wind-hammered slope showed no signs of instability. Following Bobbi's pace with a little bit of trail breaking from your's truly, we reached the ~10,200 foot saddle-summit of Chute The Moon at 12:30PM. [image] Bobbi cresting Mavericks en-route to the moon. Peak 10,696 is the highpoint straight ahead. Chuting The Moon Chute The Moon looked almost too good to be true, a dreamy canvas of white fluff deliciousness with no signs of the dreaded wind slab I'd been fearing for the past few days. The two fine gentlemen who broke trail from Mavs to the summit dropped first, making splendid work of the deep, deep pow. As we ate homemade bagel sandwiches and stared into the abyss, I could see excitement percolating through every pore of Bobbi's face. She was in the zone. I dropped first to set up for pictures, nearly front-flipping over the handlebars after an ambitious initial launch. Don't misconstrue this as a complaint, but this powder wasn't exactly quintessential Teton "cold smoke" - we'll go with lightly sweetened, wind whipped cream cheese - Oregon on a cold day - grounds to recalibrate from Teton charge mode to backseat surf mode. Watching Bobbi drop in was the highlight of the day. The difference in her skiing, from learning to link turns in Teton Pass last December to dropping into a 35 degree couloir at 10,200 feet in Grand Teton National Park with little trepidation made me too proud. She was really gettin' it! Her turns flowed soundly for the whole 650 feet, stopping only once for a little lactic acid relief. No dumps or topples, just smiles and good style - I love my days in the steep and spicy, but this right here is what skiing is all about. [image] Bobbi chutes the moon! [image] Big turns in big places [image] Shameless celebration selfies! Rain, Rocks & Potatoes The last lesson for sweet Bobbi to learn on this fine April day is one of the cruelest realities of ski mountaineering, that amazing skiing (if there even is any) is usually only about 10% of the pie. Enter stage left - the Avalanche Canyon out-track in heavy, sticky, rain smattered snow. At least we scored 1,500 feet of mostly great powder in the north fork, because the canyon bottom was on its' worst behavior. Isothermal boulder fields, a few edge-tuning rocks, abundant sidestepping, even more abundant ski base globbing, a three-quarters-melted Taggart Lake, two grouchy tourists and some tediously slow flat-land skating... if you've been there, you know. Once again, hats off to Wonder Woman for keeping a cool head. Six-some hours later we were popping LaCroix's on the trusty Hyundai hatchback, eating homemade almond butter cookies and celebrating a first couloir well shredded. Adventuring with this lady and watching her conquer her goals makes me very happy. More snow next week? Alright... alright - I guess I'll lean into this "Feburary in April" sorta deal. [video] A short top-to-bottom video of your's truly in Chute The Moon [image] My peanut butter queen ♥️ Please return the duration below:

6-7 hours

Based on the text given below determine the snow conditions of the Chute the Moon Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the snow conditions please return "unsure". The snow conditions should be one of the following options: powder, corn, ice, crust, wind scoured. Feel free to provide multiple values for the snow conditions. Here is the text: Bobbi Chutes The Moon! - Chute The Moon Couloir, 25 Short/Peak 10,696 - Grand Teton Nat. Park, WY (04.16.22) [image] This weekend I had the pleasure of joining Bobbi Clemmer on her first ever... ever... couloir ski descent - and I'm happy to report she knocked the ball out of the park! Chute The Moon was the name of the game, one of the few and finest "entry-level" couloirs in the Tetons. Load the beast with knee deep powder and you have a recipe for an exceptional day. [image] All smiles after two feet of fresh snow in Bobbi's first Grand Teton National Park couloir - Chute The Moon! Even more enjoyable when bundled in my expedition puffy - we call it "black mallow" Though definitely a topic for it's own article, it's been an absolute joy watching Bobbi Clemmer bloom as a backcountry skier this season. Besides a half dozen "one-off" days, 2022 has been her first winter on skis. Money doesn't grow on trees (cough cough, Targhee), so she's been learning almost exclusively in the backcountry. Given the low snow of January and February, most of our skiing has taken place in March and April. Two weeks ago we skied Mount Glory for her second and third times, and last weekend was a glorious powder run on 25 Short. To say I've been impressed is an understatement. Though admittedly biased, I can't really imagine the feeling of clicking into a pair of skis at 10,000 feet in Grand Teton National Park having only skied twenty times. Like what?! In my opinion that's the definition of badass, especially considering she managed the 3,500 foot descent in good style - only two falls, minimum stops and even a few hop turns on some chicken-scratch pow up high, four-some hours car to car - booyah. After a week of heavy snow, 41 inches to be exact, I was back to the drawing board, psyched to get out again with my budding winter adventure buddy. Instead of drowning in low angle pow, we aimed to ratchet up the slope angle and get Bobbi into her first couloir. Chute The Moon, diving north into Avalanche Canyon from the 25 Short/Peak 10,696 saddle, was the logical "first couloir" choice. The line is prized for ease of access, a forgiving slope and broad walls, while still providing a very real and incredibly scenic alpine ski mountaineering experience. I had only skied Chute The Moon once before in atrocious conditions (en route to Buck Mountain's East Face), so it wasn't just Bobbi who was excited for a new descent. Approach We approached Chute The Moon via Mavericks, the large lightly gladed buttress south of 25 Short, below Peak 10,696. I had never skinned up "Mavs" before, so my crusty "I've seen this 20 times before" Grand Teton National Park approach mindset was pleasantly stimulated. We started at 9:00AM, with three friends as a party of five, but got slimmed back down to the Brandon & Bobbi show around 9,700 feet (heal up, Carl and Bailey!). While skiing with the crew would have been a blast, Chute The Moon is a true couloir with confined acreage for fresh turns and a real avalanche slope, so reduced group size wasn't the worst thing for safety's sake. Hand pits and pole probing revealed about 30 inches of well bonded snow with minimal slab formation. Skinning beneath the east face of Peak 10,696 was the crux of the day, but the wind-hammered slope showed no signs of instability. Following Bobbi's pace with a little bit of trail breaking from your's truly, we reached the ~10,200 foot saddle-summit of Chute The Moon at 12:30PM. [image] Bobbi cresting Mavericks en-route to the moon. Peak 10,696 is the highpoint straight ahead. Chuting The Moon Chute The Moon looked almost too good to be true, a dreamy canvas of white fluff deliciousness with no signs of the dreaded wind slab I'd been fearing for the past few days. The two fine gentlemen who broke trail from Mavs to the summit dropped first, making splendid work of the deep, deep pow. As we ate homemade bagel sandwiches and stared into the abyss, I could see excitement percolating through every pore of Bobbi's face. She was in the zone. I dropped first to set up for pictures, nearly front-flipping over the handlebars after an ambitious initial launch. Don't misconstrue this as a complaint, but this powder wasn't exactly quintessential Teton "cold smoke" - we'll go with lightly sweetened, wind whipped cream cheese - Oregon on a cold day - grounds to recalibrate from Teton charge mode to backseat surf mode. Watching Bobbi drop in was the highlight of the day. The difference in her skiing, from learning to link turns in Teton Pass last December to dropping into a 35 degree couloir at 10,200 feet in Grand Teton National Park with little trepidation made me too proud. She was really gettin' it! Her turns flowed soundly for the whole 650 feet, stopping only once for a little lactic acid relief. No dumps or topples, just smiles and good style - I love my days in the steep and spicy, but this right here is what skiing is all about. [image] Bobbi chutes the moon! [image] Big turns in big places [image] Shameless celebration selfies! Rain, Rocks & Potatoes The last lesson for sweet Bobbi to learn on this fine April day is one of the cruelest realities of ski mountaineering, that amazing skiing (if there even is any) is usually only about 10% of the pie. Enter stage left - the Avalanche Canyon out-track in heavy, sticky, rain smattered snow. At least we scored 1,500 feet of mostly great powder in the north fork, because the canyon bottom was on its' worst behavior. Isothermal boulder fields, a few edge-tuning rocks, abundant sidestepping, even more abundant ski base globbing, a three-quarters-melted Taggart Lake, two grouchy tourists and some tediously slow flat-land skating... if you've been there, you know. Once again, hats off to Wonder Woman for keeping a cool head. Six-some hours later we were popping LaCroix's on the trusty Hyundai hatchback, eating homemade almond butter cookies and celebrating a first couloir well shredded. Adventuring with this lady and watching her conquer her goals makes me very happy. More snow next week? Alright... alright - I guess I'll lean into this "Feburary in April" sorta deal. [video] A short top-to-bottom video of your's truly in Chute The Moon [image] My peanut butter queen ♥️ Please return the snow conditions below:

powder

Based on the text given below determine the scenic rating of the Chute the Moon Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the scenic rating please return "unsure". The scenic rating should be one of the following options: not scenic, somewhat scenic, very scenic. Here is the text: Bobbi Chutes The Moon! - Chute The Moon Couloir, 25 Short/Peak 10,696 - Grand Teton Nat. Park, WY (04.16.22) [image] This weekend I had the pleasure of joining Bobbi Clemmer on her first ever... ever... couloir ski descent - and I'm happy to report she knocked the ball out of the park! Chute The Moon was the name of the game, one of the few and finest "entry-level" couloirs in the Tetons. Load the beast with knee deep powder and you have a recipe for an exceptional day. [image] All smiles after two feet of fresh snow in Bobbi's first Grand Teton National Park couloir - Chute The Moon! Even more enjoyable when bundled in my expedition puffy - we call it "black mallow" Though definitely a topic for it's own article, it's been an absolute joy watching Bobbi Clemmer bloom as a backcountry skier this season. Besides a half dozen "one-off" days, 2022 has been her first winter on skis. Money doesn't grow on trees (cough cough, Targhee), so she's been learning almost exclusively in the backcountry. Given the low snow of January and February, most of our skiing has taken place in March and April. Two weeks ago we skied Mount Glory for her second and third times, and last weekend was a glorious powder run on 25 Short. To say I've been impressed is an understatement. Though admittedly biased, I can't really imagine the feeling of clicking into a pair of skis at 10,000 feet in Grand Teton National Park having only skied twenty times. Like what?! In my opinion that's the definition of badass, especially considering she managed the 3,500 foot descent in good style - only two falls, minimum stops and even a few hop turns on some chicken-scratch pow up high, four-some hours car to car - booyah. After a week of heavy snow, 41 inches to be exact, I was back to the drawing board, psyched to get out again with my budding winter adventure buddy. Instead of drowning in low angle pow, we aimed to ratchet up the slope angle and get Bobbi into her first couloir. Chute The Moon, diving north into Avalanche Canyon from the 25 Short/Peak 10,696 saddle, was the logical "first couloir" choice. The line is prized for ease of access, a forgiving slope and broad walls, while still providing a very real and incredibly scenic alpine ski mountaineering experience. I had only skied Chute The Moon once before in atrocious conditions (en route to Buck Mountain's East Face), so it wasn't just Bobbi who was excited for a new descent. Approach We approached Chute The Moon via Mavericks, the large lightly gladed buttress south of 25 Short, below Peak 10,696. I had never skinned up "Mavs" before, so my crusty "I've seen this 20 times before" Grand Teton National Park approach mindset was pleasantly stimulated. We started at 9:00AM, with three friends as a party of five, but got slimmed back down to the Brandon & Bobbi show around 9,700 feet (heal up, Carl and Bailey!). While skiing with the crew would have been a blast, Chute The Moon is a true couloir with confined acreage for fresh turns and a real avalanche slope, so reduced group size wasn't the worst thing for safety's sake. Hand pits and pole probing revealed about 30 inches of well bonded snow with minimal slab formation. Skinning beneath the east face of Peak 10,696 was the crux of the day, but the wind-hammered slope showed no signs of instability. Following Bobbi's pace with a little bit of trail breaking from your's truly, we reached the ~10,200 foot saddle-summit of Chute The Moon at 12:30PM. [image] Bobbi cresting Mavericks en-route to the moon. Peak 10,696 is the highpoint straight ahead. Chuting The Moon Chute The Moon looked almost too good to be true, a dreamy canvas of white fluff deliciousness with no signs of the dreaded wind slab I'd been fearing for the past few days. The two fine gentlemen who broke trail from Mavs to the summit dropped first, making splendid work of the deep, deep pow. As we ate homemade bagel sandwiches and stared into the abyss, I could see excitement percolating through every pore of Bobbi's face. She was in the zone. I dropped first to set up for pictures, nearly front-flipping over the handlebars after an ambitious initial launch. Don't misconstrue this as a complaint, but this powder wasn't exactly quintessential Teton "cold smoke" - we'll go with lightly sweetened, wind whipped cream cheese - Oregon on a cold day - grounds to recalibrate from Teton charge mode to backseat surf mode. Watching Bobbi drop in was the highlight of the day. The difference in her skiing, from learning to link turns in Teton Pass last December to dropping into a 35 degree couloir at 10,200 feet in Grand Teton National Park with little trepidation made me too proud. She was really gettin' it! Her turns flowed soundly for the whole 650 feet, stopping only once for a little lactic acid relief. No dumps or topples, just smiles and good style - I love my days in the steep and spicy, but this right here is what skiing is all about. [image] Bobbi chutes the moon! [image] Big turns in big places [image] Shameless celebration selfies! Rain, Rocks & Potatoes The last lesson for sweet Bobbi to learn on this fine April day is one of the cruelest realities of ski mountaineering, that amazing skiing (if there even is any) is usually only about 10% of the pie. Enter stage left - the Avalanche Canyon out-track in heavy, sticky, rain smattered snow. At least we scored 1,500 feet of mostly great powder in the north fork, because the canyon bottom was on its' worst behavior. Isothermal boulder fields, a few edge-tuning rocks, abundant sidestepping, even more abundant ski base globbing, a three-quarters-melted Taggart Lake, two grouchy tourists and some tediously slow flat-land skating... if you've been there, you know. Once again, hats off to Wonder Woman for keeping a cool head. Six-some hours later we were popping LaCroix's on the trusty Hyundai hatchback, eating homemade almond butter cookies and celebrating a first couloir well shredded. Adventuring with this lady and watching her conquer her goals makes me very happy. More snow next week? Alright... alright - I guess I'll lean into this "Feburary in April" sorta deal. [video] A short top-to-bottom video of your's truly in Chute The Moon [image] My peanut butter queen ♥️ Please return the scenic rating below:

very scenic

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the difficulty of the East Face of Fossil Mountain backcountry skiing route. The difficulty should be one of the following options: easy, moderate, hard, extreme. Feel free to infer the difficulty, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: East Face-Fossil Mountain By: randosteve| Posted on: February 19, 2007 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Fossil Mountain, The Tetons | 4 comments Going solo today and might try to get above the clouds on the Middle Teton. Note: This TR is from February 17.2006. [image] [image]Last winter, Dustin, Reed and I were able to nab a coveted descent...the East Face of Fossil Mountain. I say it's coveted, cuz I haven't heard of anyone else ever skiing it, and if you've ever stood on top of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort you have no doubt seen it as it rises above the landscape to the northwest. Most of the time it doesn't realy look like it is filled in enough to ski, but you don't know until you go! 😉 [image]Last year we had a lot of snow, so we decided to go for Fossil on a Trans-Teton tour from JHMR to Darby Canyon in Idaho. We finagled a ride on an early tram and made our way to Fossil, through what seemed like all the forks of Granite Canyon. The snow pack was bomber and as we got closer it looked like the East Face would go. A huge cornice overhangs most of the face, so finding a safe entrance was the main concern. I dropped in first and skied a rib before cutting left into a thinly filled slot. Cowboy [image]powder awaited on the apron below and I watched as Dustin and Reed pick their way through the line. We were psyched to have skied Fossil, but we still had a long way to go to get out of the mountains. We negotiated some tricky terrain...finding our way into lower Darby Canyon and had to resort to headlamps for the last mile or so. It was a fun and long day! [image] Please return the difficulty below:

extreme

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the avalanche danger of the East Face of Fossil Mountain backcountry skiing route. The avalanche danger should be one of the following options: low, moderate, considerable, high, extreme. Feel free to infer the avalanche danger, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: East Face-Fossil Mountain By: randosteve| Posted on: February 19, 2007 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Fossil Mountain, The Tetons | 4 comments Going solo today and might try to get above the clouds on the Middle Teton. Note: This TR is from February 17.2006. [image] [image]Last winter, Dustin, Reed and I were able to nab a coveted descent...the East Face of Fossil Mountain. I say it's coveted, cuz I haven't heard of anyone else ever skiing it, and if you've ever stood on top of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort you have no doubt seen it as it rises above the landscape to the northwest. Most of the time it doesn't realy look like it is filled in enough to ski, but you don't know until you go! 😉 [image]Last year we had a lot of snow, so we decided to go for Fossil on a Trans-Teton tour from JHMR to Darby Canyon in Idaho. We finagled a ride on an early tram and made our way to Fossil, through what seemed like all the forks of Granite Canyon. The snow pack was bomber and as we got closer it looked like the East Face would go. A huge cornice overhangs most of the face, so finding a safe entrance was the main concern. I dropped in first and skied a rib before cutting left into a thinly filled slot. Cowboy [image]powder awaited on the apron below and I watched as Dustin and Reed pick their way through the line. We were psyched to have skied Fossil, but we still had a long way to go to get out of the mountains. We negotiated some tricky terrain...finding our way into lower Darby Canyon and had to resort to headlamps for the last mile or so. It was a fun and long day! [image] Please return the avalanche danger below:

high

Based on the text given below determine the terrain type of the East Face of Fossil Mountain backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the terrain type please return "unsure". The terrain type should be one of the following options: couloir, bowl, face, ridge, chute, traverse, trees, glacier. Feel free to provide multiple values for the terrain type. Here is the text: East Face-Fossil Mountain By: randosteve| Posted on: February 19, 2007 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Fossil Mountain, The Tetons | 4 comments Going solo today and might try to get above the clouds on the Middle Teton. Note: This TR is from February 17.2006. [image] [image]Last winter, Dustin, Reed and I were able to nab a coveted descent...the East Face of Fossil Mountain. I say it's coveted, cuz I haven't heard of anyone else ever skiing it, and if you've ever stood on top of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort you have no doubt seen it as it rises above the landscape to the northwest. Most of the time it doesn't realy look like it is filled in enough to ski, but you don't know until you go! 😉 [image]Last year we had a lot of snow, so we decided to go for Fossil on a Trans-Teton tour from JHMR to Darby Canyon in Idaho. We finagled a ride on an early tram and made our way to Fossil, through what seemed like all the forks of Granite Canyon. The snow pack was bomber and as we got closer it looked like the East Face would go. A huge cornice overhangs most of the face, so finding a safe entrance was the main concern. I dropped in first and skied a rib before cutting left into a thinly filled slot. Cowboy [image]powder awaited on the apron below and I watched as Dustin and Reed pick their way through the line. We were psyched to have skied Fossil, but we still had a long way to go to get out of the mountains. We negotiated some tricky terrain...finding our way into lower Darby Canyon and had to resort to headlamps for the last mile or so. It was a fun and long day! [image] Please return the terrain type below:

face

Based on the text given below determine the trailhead of the East Face of Fossil Mountain backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the trailhead please return "unsure". Feel free to provide multiple values for the trailhead. Here is the text: East Face-Fossil Mountain By: randosteve| Posted on: February 19, 2007 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Fossil Mountain, The Tetons | 4 comments Going solo today and might try to get above the clouds on the Middle Teton. Note: This TR is from February 17.2006. [image] [image]Last winter, Dustin, Reed and I were able to nab a coveted descent...the East Face of Fossil Mountain. I say it's coveted, cuz I haven't heard of anyone else ever skiing it, and if you've ever stood on top of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort you have no doubt seen it as it rises above the landscape to the northwest. Most of the time it doesn't realy look like it is filled in enough to ski, but you don't know until you go! 😉 [image]Last year we had a lot of snow, so we decided to go for Fossil on a Trans-Teton tour from JHMR to Darby Canyon in Idaho. We finagled a ride on an early tram and made our way to Fossil, through what seemed like all the forks of Granite Canyon. The snow pack was bomber and as we got closer it looked like the East Face would go. A huge cornice overhangs most of the face, so finding a safe entrance was the main concern. I dropped in first and skied a rib before cutting left into a thinly filled slot. Cowboy [image]powder awaited on the apron below and I watched as Dustin and Reed pick their way through the line. We were psyched to have skied Fossil, but we still had a long way to go to get out of the mountains. We negotiated some tricky terrain...finding our way into lower Darby Canyon and had to resort to headlamps for the last mile or so. It was a fun and long day! [image] Please return the trailhead below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the popularity of the East Face of Fossil Mountain backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the popularity please return "unsure". The popularity should be one of the following options: not popular, somewhat popular, very popular. Here is the text: East Face-Fossil Mountain By: randosteve| Posted on: February 19, 2007 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Fossil Mountain, The Tetons | 4 comments Going solo today and might try to get above the clouds on the Middle Teton. Note: This TR is from February 17.2006. [image] [image]Last winter, Dustin, Reed and I were able to nab a coveted descent...the East Face of Fossil Mountain. I say it's coveted, cuz I haven't heard of anyone else ever skiing it, and if you've ever stood on top of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort you have no doubt seen it as it rises above the landscape to the northwest. Most of the time it doesn't realy look like it is filled in enough to ski, but you don't know until you go! 😉 [image]Last year we had a lot of snow, so we decided to go for Fossil on a Trans-Teton tour from JHMR to Darby Canyon in Idaho. We finagled a ride on an early tram and made our way to Fossil, through what seemed like all the forks of Granite Canyon. The snow pack was bomber and as we got closer it looked like the East Face would go. A huge cornice overhangs most of the face, so finding a safe entrance was the main concern. I dropped in first and skied a rib before cutting left into a thinly filled slot. Cowboy [image]powder awaited on the apron below and I watched as Dustin and Reed pick their way through the line. We were psyched to have skied Fossil, but we still had a long way to go to get out of the mountains. We negotiated some tricky terrain...finding our way into lower Darby Canyon and had to resort to headlamps for the last mile or so. It was a fun and long day! [image] Please return the popularity below:

not popular

Based on the text given below determine the duration of the East Face of Fossil Mountain backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the duration please return "unsure". The duration should be a number with units of hours. Here is the text: East Face-Fossil Mountain By: randosteve| Posted on: February 19, 2007 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Fossil Mountain, The Tetons | 4 comments Going solo today and might try to get above the clouds on the Middle Teton. Note: This TR is from February 17.2006. [image] [image]Last winter, Dustin, Reed and I were able to nab a coveted descent...the East Face of Fossil Mountain. I say it's coveted, cuz I haven't heard of anyone else ever skiing it, and if you've ever stood on top of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort you have no doubt seen it as it rises above the landscape to the northwest. Most of the time it doesn't realy look like it is filled in enough to ski, but you don't know until you go! 😉 [image]Last year we had a lot of snow, so we decided to go for Fossil on a Trans-Teton tour from JHMR to Darby Canyon in Idaho. We finagled a ride on an early tram and made our way to Fossil, through what seemed like all the forks of Granite Canyon. The snow pack was bomber and as we got closer it looked like the East Face would go. A huge cornice overhangs most of the face, so finding a safe entrance was the main concern. I dropped in first and skied a rib before cutting left into a thinly filled slot. Cowboy [image]powder awaited on the apron below and I watched as Dustin and Reed pick their way through the line. We were psyched to have skied Fossil, but we still had a long way to go to get out of the mountains. We negotiated some tricky terrain...finding our way into lower Darby Canyon and had to resort to headlamps for the last mile or so. It was a fun and long day! [image] Please return the duration below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the snow conditions of the East Face of Fossil Mountain backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the snow conditions please return "unsure". The snow conditions should be one of the following options: powder, corn, ice, crust, wind scoured. Feel free to provide multiple values for the snow conditions. Here is the text: East Face-Fossil Mountain By: randosteve| Posted on: February 19, 2007 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Fossil Mountain, The Tetons | 4 comments Going solo today and might try to get above the clouds on the Middle Teton. Note: This TR is from February 17.2006. [image] [image]Last winter, Dustin, Reed and I were able to nab a coveted descent...the East Face of Fossil Mountain. I say it's coveted, cuz I haven't heard of anyone else ever skiing it, and if you've ever stood on top of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort you have no doubt seen it as it rises above the landscape to the northwest. Most of the time it doesn't realy look like it is filled in enough to ski, but you don't know until you go! 😉 [image]Last year we had a lot of snow, so we decided to go for Fossil on a Trans-Teton tour from JHMR to Darby Canyon in Idaho. We finagled a ride on an early tram and made our way to Fossil, through what seemed like all the forks of Granite Canyon. The snow pack was bomber and as we got closer it looked like the East Face would go. A huge cornice overhangs most of the face, so finding a safe entrance was the main concern. I dropped in first and skied a rib before cutting left into a thinly filled slot. Cowboy [image]powder awaited on the apron below and I watched as Dustin and Reed pick their way through the line. We were psyched to have skied Fossil, but we still had a long way to go to get out of the mountains. We negotiated some tricky terrain...finding our way into lower Darby Canyon and had to resort to headlamps for the last mile or so. It was a fun and long day! [image] Please return the snow conditions below:

powder

Based on the text given below determine the scenic rating of the East Face of Fossil Mountain backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the scenic rating please return "unsure". The scenic rating should be one of the following options: not scenic, somewhat scenic, very scenic. Here is the text: East Face-Fossil Mountain By: randosteve| Posted on: February 19, 2007 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Fossil Mountain, The Tetons | 4 comments Going solo today and might try to get above the clouds on the Middle Teton. Note: This TR is from February 17.2006. [image] [image]Last winter, Dustin, Reed and I were able to nab a coveted descent...the East Face of Fossil Mountain. I say it's coveted, cuz I haven't heard of anyone else ever skiing it, and if you've ever stood on top of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort you have no doubt seen it as it rises above the landscape to the northwest. Most of the time it doesn't realy look like it is filled in enough to ski, but you don't know until you go! 😉 [image]Last year we had a lot of snow, so we decided to go for Fossil on a Trans-Teton tour from JHMR to Darby Canyon in Idaho. We finagled a ride on an early tram and made our way to Fossil, through what seemed like all the forks of Granite Canyon. The snow pack was bomber and as we got closer it looked like the East Face would go. A huge cornice overhangs most of the face, so finding a safe entrance was the main concern. I dropped in first and skied a rib before cutting left into a thinly filled slot. Cowboy [image]powder awaited on the apron below and I watched as Dustin and Reed pick their way through the line. We were psyched to have skied Fossil, but we still had a long way to go to get out of the mountains. We negotiated some tricky terrain...finding our way into lower Darby Canyon and had to resort to headlamps for the last mile or so. It was a fun and long day! [image] Please return the scenic rating below:

unsure

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the difficulty of the Thanksgiving Bowl backcountry skiing route. The difficulty should be one of the following options: easy, moderate, hard, extreme. Feel free to infer the difficulty, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: Thanksgiving Bowl A short Northeast facing bowl that can be reached from the hike up Mt Elly from the top of the pass, it's often skiied in conjunction with Christmas Tree Bowl. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Teton Pass Summit There is an overflow lot where parking is permitted 1 quarter of a mile to the East of the summit of Teton Pass. Sometimes parking is closed at the top of the pass and in those times you'll have to be dropped off or hitchhike. Trip Reports 11/08/2015 - (Steve Weiss Mountain Enthusiast) 11/27/2014 - (Powder Magazine) Guide Books Jackson Hole Backcountry Skier's Guide: South by Thomas Turiano[image] (Links to guidebooks may be affiliate links) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Snake River Range, Teton Pass Please return the difficulty below:

unsure

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the avalanche danger of the Thanksgiving Bowl backcountry skiing route. The avalanche danger should be one of the following options: low, moderate, considerable, high, extreme. Feel free to infer the avalanche danger, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: Thanksgiving Bowl A short Northeast facing bowl that can be reached from the hike up Mt Elly from the top of the pass, it's often skiied in conjunction with Christmas Tree Bowl. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Teton Pass Summit There is an overflow lot where parking is permitted 1 quarter of a mile to the East of the summit of Teton Pass. Sometimes parking is closed at the top of the pass and in those times you'll have to be dropped off or hitchhike. Trip Reports 11/08/2015 - (Steve Weiss Mountain Enthusiast) 11/27/2014 - (Powder Magazine) Guide Books Jackson Hole Backcountry Skier's Guide: South by Thomas Turiano[image] (Links to guidebooks may be affiliate links) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Snake River Range, Teton Pass Please return the avalanche danger below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the terrain type of the Thanksgiving Bowl backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the terrain type please return "unsure". The terrain type should be one of the following options: couloir, bowl, face, ridge, chute, traverse, trees, glacier. Feel free to provide multiple values for the terrain type. Here is the text: Thanksgiving Bowl A short Northeast facing bowl that can be reached from the hike up Mt Elly from the top of the pass, it's often skiied in conjunction with Christmas Tree Bowl. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Teton Pass Summit There is an overflow lot where parking is permitted 1 quarter of a mile to the East of the summit of Teton Pass. Sometimes parking is closed at the top of the pass and in those times you'll have to be dropped off or hitchhike. Trip Reports 11/08/2015 - (Steve Weiss Mountain Enthusiast) 11/27/2014 - (Powder Magazine) Guide Books Jackson Hole Backcountry Skier's Guide: South by Thomas Turiano[image] (Links to guidebooks may be affiliate links) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Snake River Range, Teton Pass Please return the terrain type below:

bowl

Based on the text given below determine the trailhead of the Thanksgiving Bowl backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the trailhead please return "unsure". Feel free to provide multiple values for the trailhead. Here is the text: Thanksgiving Bowl A short Northeast facing bowl that can be reached from the hike up Mt Elly from the top of the pass, it's often skiied in conjunction with Christmas Tree Bowl. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Teton Pass Summit There is an overflow lot where parking is permitted 1 quarter of a mile to the East of the summit of Teton Pass. Sometimes parking is closed at the top of the pass and in those times you'll have to be dropped off or hitchhike. Trip Reports 11/08/2015 - (Steve Weiss Mountain Enthusiast) 11/27/2014 - (Powder Magazine) Guide Books Jackson Hole Backcountry Skier's Guide: South by Thomas Turiano[image] (Links to guidebooks may be affiliate links) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Snake River Range, Teton Pass Please return the trailhead below:

Teton Pass Summit

Based on the text given below determine the popularity of the Thanksgiving Bowl backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the popularity please return "unsure". The popularity should be one of the following options: not popular, somewhat popular, very popular. Here is the text: Thanksgiving Bowl A short Northeast facing bowl that can be reached from the hike up Mt Elly from the top of the pass, it's often skiied in conjunction with Christmas Tree Bowl. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Teton Pass Summit There is an overflow lot where parking is permitted 1 quarter of a mile to the East of the summit of Teton Pass. Sometimes parking is closed at the top of the pass and in those times you'll have to be dropped off or hitchhike. Trip Reports 11/08/2015 - (Steve Weiss Mountain Enthusiast) 11/27/2014 - (Powder Magazine) Guide Books Jackson Hole Backcountry Skier's Guide: South by Thomas Turiano[image] (Links to guidebooks may be affiliate links) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Snake River Range, Teton Pass Please return the popularity below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the duration of the Thanksgiving Bowl backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the duration please return "unsure". The duration should be a number with units of hours. Here is the text: Thanksgiving Bowl A short Northeast facing bowl that can be reached from the hike up Mt Elly from the top of the pass, it's often skiied in conjunction with Christmas Tree Bowl. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Teton Pass Summit There is an overflow lot where parking is permitted 1 quarter of a mile to the East of the summit of Teton Pass. Sometimes parking is closed at the top of the pass and in those times you'll have to be dropped off or hitchhike. Trip Reports 11/08/2015 - (Steve Weiss Mountain Enthusiast) 11/27/2014 - (Powder Magazine) Guide Books Jackson Hole Backcountry Skier's Guide: South by Thomas Turiano[image] (Links to guidebooks may be affiliate links) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Snake River Range, Teton Pass Please return the duration below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the snow conditions of the Thanksgiving Bowl backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the snow conditions please return "unsure". The snow conditions should be one of the following options: powder, corn, ice, crust, wind scoured. Feel free to provide multiple values for the snow conditions. Here is the text: Thanksgiving Bowl A short Northeast facing bowl that can be reached from the hike up Mt Elly from the top of the pass, it's often skiied in conjunction with Christmas Tree Bowl. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Teton Pass Summit There is an overflow lot where parking is permitted 1 quarter of a mile to the East of the summit of Teton Pass. Sometimes parking is closed at the top of the pass and in those times you'll have to be dropped off or hitchhike. Trip Reports 11/08/2015 - (Steve Weiss Mountain Enthusiast) 11/27/2014 - (Powder Magazine) Guide Books Jackson Hole Backcountry Skier's Guide: South by Thomas Turiano[image] (Links to guidebooks may be affiliate links) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Snake River Range, Teton Pass Please return the snow conditions below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the scenic rating of the Thanksgiving Bowl backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the scenic rating please return "unsure". The scenic rating should be one of the following options: not scenic, somewhat scenic, very scenic. Here is the text: Thanksgiving Bowl A short Northeast facing bowl that can be reached from the hike up Mt Elly from the top of the pass, it's often skiied in conjunction with Christmas Tree Bowl. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Teton Pass Summit There is an overflow lot where parking is permitted 1 quarter of a mile to the East of the summit of Teton Pass. Sometimes parking is closed at the top of the pass and in those times you'll have to be dropped off or hitchhike. Trip Reports 11/08/2015 - (Steve Weiss Mountain Enthusiast) 11/27/2014 - (Powder Magazine) Guide Books Jackson Hole Backcountry Skier's Guide: South by Thomas Turiano[image] (Links to guidebooks may be affiliate links) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Snake River Range, Teton Pass Please return the scenic rating below:

unsure

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the difficulty of the Big Four Traverse backcountry skiing route. The difficulty should be one of the following options: easy, moderate, hard, extreme. Feel free to infer the difficulty, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: Human Powered "Big Four" Traverse (Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Jed. Smith, Meek) - Tetons West (April 2020) [image] [image] Pre-Sunrise view from the saddle of Darby Canyon's South Fork I first heard mention of the Big Four Traverse, albeit not by that name, five years ago while picking the brain of a veteran lift mechanic over morning coffee at Grand Targhee Resort. He spoke of the four remote, seldom skied and closely grouped peaks, Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek, with a certain mystique, as if I was really missing out by directing all my attention as an aspiring ski mountaineer to Grand Teton National Park. At the time I wasn't ready to listen, too starstruck by classic Teton lines to venture off the beaten path; but after a half-decade of chipping away a ski resume in Teton Valley, "unconventional" strikes a certain kind of appeal. The Big Four lied well dormant until I went on my first tour with Carl Osterberg this past winter. Carl, a nordic skier and overall endurance machine, stated his intent to ski all four peaks in a single day, that the route was "something the locals do" and it had a name, the "Big Four." After several more trips with Carl, a traverse of the Palisades Range and a noteworthy descent of the Targhee classic - Treasure Bowl - talks of the Big Four began to flourish again. The more I looked into the route, the more excited I became. Not only was it a substantial challenge, but all four peaks offered a variety of excellent ski terrain, skyline prominence and the opportunity to break new ground in a range I've skied hundreds of times. After many hours of trip report scouring, Google Earth mapping and drop-car shuttling, Carl and I found ourselves in Darby Canyon at 3:02 AM, skis on our backs, headed for Fossil Mountain. [image] The Route The Big Four as we know it, is any traverse that involves climbing Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek in a single day. To my knowledge this traverse is rarely fully human powered and often assisted by snowmobile; no machines for us though, we'd be walking from the get go. Actually, I've never heard of a single report trailhead-to-trailhead on foot. From the winter closure, five miles of snow covered road stands between the car and the summer Wind Cave trailhead. From the trailhead, approximately three miles of average grade climbing takes you through the South Fork of Darby Canyon to the col at the base of Fossil's south ridge. We chose Fossil first because we planned to ski the East Face, a steep and exposed, often cornice'd line, studded with cliffs and a prime candidate for solar influenced avalanche danger. Fossil is not one of those mountains you want to be on when the day warms up. From Fossil, we planned to follow the geological crest north, up and over Bannon, Jedediah Smith and Meek, all of which offer north facing skiing less susceptible to sun effect. From the summit of Meek, we planned to ski a beautiful but relatively short couloir to the Death Shelf, where we would either re-gain Meek via "The Wedge" and ski out the Main Fork of Darby Canyon, or descend the Devil's Staircase and exit the South Fork of Teton Canyon. Undoubtedly the fastest choice would have been to ski directly into the Main Fork from the summit of Meek, but would've meant bypassing potentially the best ski descent of the day, which we were not willing to do. We left a shuttle car at Teton Canyon to give us a variety of exit options, packed our bags with as many calories as possible and prepared for an estimated 10,000 feet of elevation gain over an approximate distance of 20-22 miles. [image] Alone in the woods The Big Four 3:02AM was by far the earliest I'd ever clicked into a pair of skis, and it wasn't long before I realized why it wasn't a popular start time. After a few hours of shuffling quietly along the snow covered access road, stopping every once and a while to cross a patch of dry land, Carl and I both admitted we weren't necessarily in top notch head space. Three hours of sleep and two cups of coffee can only get you so far, and I was really feeling it. Shadows danced between the trees and snapping branches stopped us in our tracks more than once. There was something eerie about being so deep in the wilderness, wandering around a thickly wooded canyon home to grizzly bears, mountain lions and moose in the middle of the night, aided only by a uni-directional beam of light. If Carl hadn't been with me I'm not sure I would've retained sanity. Queasy and sleep deprived we continued the slog past the summer trailhead and into the South Fork of Darby, where the woods only got deeper, denser and darker. The higher we climbed the colder the morning became, dropping from a modest thirty degrees to a bone chilling fifteen. We layered up as the first glimpses of morning light illuminated the surrounding cliffs and eventually the summit of Fossil. Standing like a guardian over the basin below, the rock wrapped west face of loomed with foreboding ferocity over the canyon below, the morning wind whisping clouds and spiraling snow off the summit. Seeing the mountain did little to boost our enthusiasm; it looked wicked up there, and we had still yet seen the sun. Carl struggled to stay warm as I took the lead, forging our path to the col and continuing up the south ridge. Much to our excitement, the ridge was windswept and looked perfect for a quick climb, with plenty of rocks for traction and very little new snow. With a mere 800 feet of prominence, Fossil is less of an individual peak and more of a humongous rock perched atop a long, long, long ridge, so by the time we switched to crampons 95 percent of the work was behind us. Quickly and efficiently we climbed a mix of firm snow and ice up the modest 35-40 degree face, topping out on the 10,916 foot summit somewhere in the vicinity of 10 o'clock. [image] View of Darby Canyon's South Fork in the early morning light. [image] Carl employing spiky things on the way up Fossil [image] No time to drop the camera bag. The summit of Fossil Mountain with the Grand Teton and friends in the background Just as we expected, the East Face of Fossil Mountain was guarded with a hulking bulge of overhanging snow, putting into question whether or not we could even access our planned ski line. We brought a light rando-rope and harnesses with the intention of belaying the first skier into the face, but with the rapid warming of morning sun our confidence in the cornice's strength waned. The summit was also void of rock, meaning we would've had to build a ski anchor to rappel from. Ski anchors are notoriously sketchy to begin with, and to put the cherry atop this menacing sundae, we weren't even positive the East Face was filled in enough to ski. With half a dozen red flags glaring back at us, we swallowed our pride and opted for a conservative ski down the same face we ascended, scoring some hippie powder on the windswept ridge before traversing above a chute on the southeast ridge and popping into the lower East Face. When we looked up at our original plan, bailing was immediately validated. The East Face had avalanched recently, exposing the entire cliffband and filling the run-out with debris. Also, the school-bus sized cornice we suspected was definitely real, actively releasing wet snow and looked eager to separate from the mountain at moment's notice. We couldn't help but smile and exchange a few "Thank God's" as we scurried beneath the face to the foothills of Mount Bannon's southern ridge. [image] Looking back on the East Face of Fossil Mountain As we skinned towards Bannon the powerful, unobstructed sun unleashed it's fury. Within two hours we went from borderline frostbite to rolled up sleeves and baseball caps. Whilst certainly more comfortable, we also knew that warming to this degree could create dangerous avalanche conditions, especially with the new overnight snow. Because we were planning on skiing north for the remainder of the day, where surfaces see little sun and often remain cold, we didn't feel the need to abort ship just yet, but we were certainly on our toes. We reached the summit of 10,971 foot Mount Bannon after a relatively uneventful skin, but we weren't quick to linger. In similar fashion, our planned descent route was guarded by a nasty cornice, prompting us to once again take the tame route. We hop-turned our way through a slushy mess of solar snow on the NE Ridge before taking the first opportunity drop a safe line onto the lower portion of the North Face, scoring a few hundred feet of tremendous powder turns to the base of Mount Jedediah Smith. Looking back at a network of beautiful couloirs and ledges on the North Face, we were bummed to have left it behind, but also knew the mountain wasn't ready; we made the right choice. With the two crowning descents behind us, we savored a longer break and packed in some extra calories for the back half our day. [image] Carl doing his best radio tower impression. [image] Turn north for powder! Mount Jedediah Smith came and went with relative ease. The peak is more of a lump than an actual mountain, requiring only a few hundred feet of climbing from Bannon and a benign, moderately sloped ski on the north side. Ushered off the summit by a nasty wind surge, we battled a few hundred feet of wind scoured crust to the saddle between Jedediah and Meek, and immediately began making our way up our final climb of the day. While far from a behemoth, Mount Meek, standing tall at 10,686 feet, is deceptively larger than it's neighbor to the south. By the time the summit came into view, lactic acid was invading my legs and the piercing sun was making me dizzy. Carl didn't seem to have any trouble, but hey... I guess that's one of the perks of being a competitive nordic ski racer. He was already scouting our descent as I came up several minutes behind, tired and out of breath. From Meek I could see directly down Death Canyon to the flat-lands of Grand Teton National Park. Just north was the always impressive Grand Teton and to the west, my hometown, Victor, Idaho. To the south was Jedediah Smith, Bannon and Fossil, lined up perfectly like three ducks in a row, reflecting the first hues of late afternoon sun into my glasses. With my finger I could trace our path over all three, right to my skis on the final summit. I was overcome with a feeling of relief, accomplishment, and at the same time, the sobering realization that our adventure was far from over. By this point we'd decided conclusively on skiing Meek's North Couloir and exiting Teton Canyon. I knew roughly where the Teton Canyon parking lot was... and it wasn't close - not by a long shot. However, I had a plate full of powder to indulge in before worrying about any of the above! [image] The Big Four... well... three, from the fourth. Mount Bannon's north face looking particularly sexy. [image] Carl scoring the goods. [image] Maiden voyage complete for my trusty BD whippet! Post-ski high below the North Couloir on Mount Meek. The couloir was exactly as we'd imagined, steep, aesthetic and filled with phenomenal snow. I dropped first, skiing the line in one pull and scoring some of 2020's best turns. I pulled up below the cliffs to shoot pictures of Carl before following him out the apron and beginning our never-ending traverse along the Death Canyon Shelf, ultimately to Teton Canyon. Our post-powder highs quickly dissolved as we battled dangerously heavy snow on the Devil's Staircase, intentionally triggering a handful of wet slab avalanches to clear our path. Safely navigating to the bottom of Teton Canyon took much longer than expected, but you can't put a price on survival, so we took the delay in stride. The rest of our day involved a few miles of bushwhacking, one sketchy creek crossing, one moose encounter and 3.5 miles of cross-country skiing on the Teton Canyon road. As soon as we hit the groomed track I set Carl loose; I could tell he was anxious. When I finally reached the car around 8:00 PM, cramping feet and aching knees, he was stripped down to bare feet and sitting in the parking lot, grinning from ear to ear. The Big Four was ours, 17 hours and change, a record smashing tour for the both of us! A Spiritual Take: "Living is Victory" Diversions are part of the game in ski mountaineering, and a good mountaineer needs to be able to take them in stride. On Fossil and Bannon alike, our original objectives were barred with cornices and unsafe to descend. The first thought that flits through my mind in these situations is usually disappointment, closely followed by resistance and finally, often reluctantly, acceptance. Atop Fossil in particular, I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure a safe way onto the East Face, even though I knew we were best off leaving it behind. I let myself have these moments, so long as I see them for what they are and ultimately accept the option that brings me home safely. In the words of John Troillet, a famous french mountaineer, "living is victory." The phrase was coined during Jean and his team's 2008 attempt on the South Face of Nepal's Annapurna, where they spent over 50 days in base-camp, attempting to climb at least three times, only to return empty handed. I remind myself of Jean's words when deciding whether or not to take a risk in the mountains, and though much less dramatic, opting for the safe route down Fossil and Bannon was our way of accepting that "living is victory." To support Ten Thousand Too Far, consider a donation or subscribe below for new content! Type your email... Subscribe Join 49 other subscribers As always, a big thank you to my supporters and friends Icelantic Skis and Yostmark Mountain Equipment for all the gear, stoke and love! Check these guys out, they rock! Please return the difficulty below:

extreme

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the avalanche danger of the Big Four Traverse backcountry skiing route. The avalanche danger should be one of the following options: low, moderate, considerable, high, extreme. Feel free to infer the avalanche danger, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: Human Powered "Big Four" Traverse (Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Jed. Smith, Meek) - Tetons West (April 2020) [image] [image] Pre-Sunrise view from the saddle of Darby Canyon's South Fork I first heard mention of the Big Four Traverse, albeit not by that name, five years ago while picking the brain of a veteran lift mechanic over morning coffee at Grand Targhee Resort. He spoke of the four remote, seldom skied and closely grouped peaks, Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek, with a certain mystique, as if I was really missing out by directing all my attention as an aspiring ski mountaineer to Grand Teton National Park. At the time I wasn't ready to listen, too starstruck by classic Teton lines to venture off the beaten path; but after a half-decade of chipping away a ski resume in Teton Valley, "unconventional" strikes a certain kind of appeal. The Big Four lied well dormant until I went on my first tour with Carl Osterberg this past winter. Carl, a nordic skier and overall endurance machine, stated his intent to ski all four peaks in a single day, that the route was "something the locals do" and it had a name, the "Big Four." After several more trips with Carl, a traverse of the Palisades Range and a noteworthy descent of the Targhee classic - Treasure Bowl - talks of the Big Four began to flourish again. The more I looked into the route, the more excited I became. Not only was it a substantial challenge, but all four peaks offered a variety of excellent ski terrain, skyline prominence and the opportunity to break new ground in a range I've skied hundreds of times. After many hours of trip report scouring, Google Earth mapping and drop-car shuttling, Carl and I found ourselves in Darby Canyon at 3:02 AM, skis on our backs, headed for Fossil Mountain. [image] The Route The Big Four as we know it, is any traverse that involves climbing Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek in a single day. To my knowledge this traverse is rarely fully human powered and often assisted by snowmobile; no machines for us though, we'd be walking from the get go. Actually, I've never heard of a single report trailhead-to-trailhead on foot. From the winter closure, five miles of snow covered road stands between the car and the summer Wind Cave trailhead. From the trailhead, approximately three miles of average grade climbing takes you through the South Fork of Darby Canyon to the col at the base of Fossil's south ridge. We chose Fossil first because we planned to ski the East Face, a steep and exposed, often cornice'd line, studded with cliffs and a prime candidate for solar influenced avalanche danger. Fossil is not one of those mountains you want to be on when the day warms up. From Fossil, we planned to follow the geological crest north, up and over Bannon, Jedediah Smith and Meek, all of which offer north facing skiing less susceptible to sun effect. From the summit of Meek, we planned to ski a beautiful but relatively short couloir to the Death Shelf, where we would either re-gain Meek via "The Wedge" and ski out the Main Fork of Darby Canyon, or descend the Devil's Staircase and exit the South Fork of Teton Canyon. Undoubtedly the fastest choice would have been to ski directly into the Main Fork from the summit of Meek, but would've meant bypassing potentially the best ski descent of the day, which we were not willing to do. We left a shuttle car at Teton Canyon to give us a variety of exit options, packed our bags with as many calories as possible and prepared for an estimated 10,000 feet of elevation gain over an approximate distance of 20-22 miles. [image] Alone in the woods The Big Four 3:02AM was by far the earliest I'd ever clicked into a pair of skis, and it wasn't long before I realized why it wasn't a popular start time. After a few hours of shuffling quietly along the snow covered access road, stopping every once and a while to cross a patch of dry land, Carl and I both admitted we weren't necessarily in top notch head space. Three hours of sleep and two cups of coffee can only get you so far, and I was really feeling it. Shadows danced between the trees and snapping branches stopped us in our tracks more than once. There was something eerie about being so deep in the wilderness, wandering around a thickly wooded canyon home to grizzly bears, mountain lions and moose in the middle of the night, aided only by a uni-directional beam of light. If Carl hadn't been with me I'm not sure I would've retained sanity. Queasy and sleep deprived we continued the slog past the summer trailhead and into the South Fork of Darby, where the woods only got deeper, denser and darker. The higher we climbed the colder the morning became, dropping from a modest thirty degrees to a bone chilling fifteen. We layered up as the first glimpses of morning light illuminated the surrounding cliffs and eventually the summit of Fossil. Standing like a guardian over the basin below, the rock wrapped west face of loomed with foreboding ferocity over the canyon below, the morning wind whisping clouds and spiraling snow off the summit. Seeing the mountain did little to boost our enthusiasm; it looked wicked up there, and we had still yet seen the sun. Carl struggled to stay warm as I took the lead, forging our path to the col and continuing up the south ridge. Much to our excitement, the ridge was windswept and looked perfect for a quick climb, with plenty of rocks for traction and very little new snow. With a mere 800 feet of prominence, Fossil is less of an individual peak and more of a humongous rock perched atop a long, long, long ridge, so by the time we switched to crampons 95 percent of the work was behind us. Quickly and efficiently we climbed a mix of firm snow and ice up the modest 35-40 degree face, topping out on the 10,916 foot summit somewhere in the vicinity of 10 o'clock. [image] View of Darby Canyon's South Fork in the early morning light. [image] Carl employing spiky things on the way up Fossil [image] No time to drop the camera bag. The summit of Fossil Mountain with the Grand Teton and friends in the background Just as we expected, the East Face of Fossil Mountain was guarded with a hulking bulge of overhanging snow, putting into question whether or not we could even access our planned ski line. We brought a light rando-rope and harnesses with the intention of belaying the first skier into the face, but with the rapid warming of morning sun our confidence in the cornice's strength waned. The summit was also void of rock, meaning we would've had to build a ski anchor to rappel from. Ski anchors are notoriously sketchy to begin with, and to put the cherry atop this menacing sundae, we weren't even positive the East Face was filled in enough to ski. With half a dozen red flags glaring back at us, we swallowed our pride and opted for a conservative ski down the same face we ascended, scoring some hippie powder on the windswept ridge before traversing above a chute on the southeast ridge and popping into the lower East Face. When we looked up at our original plan, bailing was immediately validated. The East Face had avalanched recently, exposing the entire cliffband and filling the run-out with debris. Also, the school-bus sized cornice we suspected was definitely real, actively releasing wet snow and looked eager to separate from the mountain at moment's notice. We couldn't help but smile and exchange a few "Thank God's" as we scurried beneath the face to the foothills of Mount Bannon's southern ridge. [image] Looking back on the East Face of Fossil Mountain As we skinned towards Bannon the powerful, unobstructed sun unleashed it's fury. Within two hours we went from borderline frostbite to rolled up sleeves and baseball caps. Whilst certainly more comfortable, we also knew that warming to this degree could create dangerous avalanche conditions, especially with the new overnight snow. Because we were planning on skiing north for the remainder of the day, where surfaces see little sun and often remain cold, we didn't feel the need to abort ship just yet, but we were certainly on our toes. We reached the summit of 10,971 foot Mount Bannon after a relatively uneventful skin, but we weren't quick to linger. In similar fashion, our planned descent route was guarded by a nasty cornice, prompting us to once again take the tame route. We hop-turned our way through a slushy mess of solar snow on the NE Ridge before taking the first opportunity drop a safe line onto the lower portion of the North Face, scoring a few hundred feet of tremendous powder turns to the base of Mount Jedediah Smith. Looking back at a network of beautiful couloirs and ledges on the North Face, we were bummed to have left it behind, but also knew the mountain wasn't ready; we made the right choice. With the two crowning descents behind us, we savored a longer break and packed in some extra calories for the back half our day. [image] Carl doing his best radio tower impression. [image] Turn north for powder! Mount Jedediah Smith came and went with relative ease. The peak is more of a lump than an actual mountain, requiring only a few hundred feet of climbing from Bannon and a benign, moderately sloped ski on the north side. Ushered off the summit by a nasty wind surge, we battled a few hundred feet of wind scoured crust to the saddle between Jedediah and Meek, and immediately began making our way up our final climb of the day. While far from a behemoth, Mount Meek, standing tall at 10,686 feet, is deceptively larger than it's neighbor to the south. By the time the summit came into view, lactic acid was invading my legs and the piercing sun was making me dizzy. Carl didn't seem to have any trouble, but hey... I guess that's one of the perks of being a competitive nordic ski racer. He was already scouting our descent as I came up several minutes behind, tired and out of breath. From Meek I could see directly down Death Canyon to the flat-lands of Grand Teton National Park. Just north was the always impressive Grand Teton and to the west, my hometown, Victor, Idaho. To the south was Jedediah Smith, Bannon and Fossil, lined up perfectly like three ducks in a row, reflecting the first hues of late afternoon sun into my glasses. With my finger I could trace our path over all three, right to my skis on the final summit. I was overcome with a feeling of relief, accomplishment, and at the same time, the sobering realization that our adventure was far from over. By this point we'd decided conclusively on skiing Meek's North Couloir and exiting Teton Canyon. I knew roughly where the Teton Canyon parking lot was... and it wasn't close - not by a long shot. However, I had a plate full of powder to indulge in before worrying about any of the above! [image] The Big Four... well... three, from the fourth. Mount Bannon's north face looking particularly sexy. [image] Carl scoring the goods. [image] Maiden voyage complete for my trusty BD whippet! Post-ski high below the North Couloir on Mount Meek. The couloir was exactly as we'd imagined, steep, aesthetic and filled with phenomenal snow. I dropped first, skiing the line in one pull and scoring some of 2020's best turns. I pulled up below the cliffs to shoot pictures of Carl before following him out the apron and beginning our never-ending traverse along the Death Canyon Shelf, ultimately to Teton Canyon. Our post-powder highs quickly dissolved as we battled dangerously heavy snow on the Devil's Staircase, intentionally triggering a handful of wet slab avalanches to clear our path. Safely navigating to the bottom of Teton Canyon took much longer than expected, but you can't put a price on survival, so we took the delay in stride. The rest of our day involved a few miles of bushwhacking, one sketchy creek crossing, one moose encounter and 3.5 miles of cross-country skiing on the Teton Canyon road. As soon as we hit the groomed track I set Carl loose; I could tell he was anxious. When I finally reached the car around 8:00 PM, cramping feet and aching knees, he was stripped down to bare feet and sitting in the parking lot, grinning from ear to ear. The Big Four was ours, 17 hours and change, a record smashing tour for the both of us! A Spiritual Take: "Living is Victory" Diversions are part of the game in ski mountaineering, and a good mountaineer needs to be able to take them in stride. On Fossil and Bannon alike, our original objectives were barred with cornices and unsafe to descend. The first thought that flits through my mind in these situations is usually disappointment, closely followed by resistance and finally, often reluctantly, acceptance. Atop Fossil in particular, I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure a safe way onto the East Face, even though I knew we were best off leaving it behind. I let myself have these moments, so long as I see them for what they are and ultimately accept the option that brings me home safely. In the words of John Troillet, a famous french mountaineer, "living is victory." The phrase was coined during Jean and his team's 2008 attempt on the South Face of Nepal's Annapurna, where they spent over 50 days in base-camp, attempting to climb at least three times, only to return empty handed. I remind myself of Jean's words when deciding whether or not to take a risk in the mountains, and though much less dramatic, opting for the safe route down Fossil and Bannon was our way of accepting that "living is victory." To support Ten Thousand Too Far, consider a donation or subscribe below for new content! Type your email... Subscribe Join 49 other subscribers As always, a big thank you to my supporters and friends Icelantic Skis and Yostmark Mountain Equipment for all the gear, stoke and love! Check these guys out, they rock! Please return the avalanche danger below:

high

Based on the text given below determine the terrain type of the Big Four Traverse backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the terrain type please return "unsure". The terrain type should be one of the following options: couloir, bowl, face, ridge, chute, traverse, trees, glacier. Feel free to provide multiple values for the terrain type. Here is the text: Human Powered "Big Four" Traverse (Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Jed. Smith, Meek) - Tetons West (April 2020) [image] [image] Pre-Sunrise view from the saddle of Darby Canyon's South Fork I first heard mention of the Big Four Traverse, albeit not by that name, five years ago while picking the brain of a veteran lift mechanic over morning coffee at Grand Targhee Resort. He spoke of the four remote, seldom skied and closely grouped peaks, Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek, with a certain mystique, as if I was really missing out by directing all my attention as an aspiring ski mountaineer to Grand Teton National Park. At the time I wasn't ready to listen, too starstruck by classic Teton lines to venture off the beaten path; but after a half-decade of chipping away a ski resume in Teton Valley, "unconventional" strikes a certain kind of appeal. The Big Four lied well dormant until I went on my first tour with Carl Osterberg this past winter. Carl, a nordic skier and overall endurance machine, stated his intent to ski all four peaks in a single day, that the route was "something the locals do" and it had a name, the "Big Four." After several more trips with Carl, a traverse of the Palisades Range and a noteworthy descent of the Targhee classic - Treasure Bowl - talks of the Big Four began to flourish again. The more I looked into the route, the more excited I became. Not only was it a substantial challenge, but all four peaks offered a variety of excellent ski terrain, skyline prominence and the opportunity to break new ground in a range I've skied hundreds of times. After many hours of trip report scouring, Google Earth mapping and drop-car shuttling, Carl and I found ourselves in Darby Canyon at 3:02 AM, skis on our backs, headed for Fossil Mountain. [image] The Route The Big Four as we know it, is any traverse that involves climbing Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek in a single day. To my knowledge this traverse is rarely fully human powered and often assisted by snowmobile; no machines for us though, we'd be walking from the get go. Actually, I've never heard of a single report trailhead-to-trailhead on foot. From the winter closure, five miles of snow covered road stands between the car and the summer Wind Cave trailhead. From the trailhead, approximately three miles of average grade climbing takes you through the South Fork of Darby Canyon to the col at the base of Fossil's south ridge. We chose Fossil first because we planned to ski the East Face, a steep and exposed, often cornice'd line, studded with cliffs and a prime candidate for solar influenced avalanche danger. Fossil is not one of those mountains you want to be on when the day warms up. From Fossil, we planned to follow the geological crest north, up and over Bannon, Jedediah Smith and Meek, all of which offer north facing skiing less susceptible to sun effect. From the summit of Meek, we planned to ski a beautiful but relatively short couloir to the Death Shelf, where we would either re-gain Meek via "The Wedge" and ski out the Main Fork of Darby Canyon, or descend the Devil's Staircase and exit the South Fork of Teton Canyon. Undoubtedly the fastest choice would have been to ski directly into the Main Fork from the summit of Meek, but would've meant bypassing potentially the best ski descent of the day, which we were not willing to do. We left a shuttle car at Teton Canyon to give us a variety of exit options, packed our bags with as many calories as possible and prepared for an estimated 10,000 feet of elevation gain over an approximate distance of 20-22 miles. [image] Alone in the woods The Big Four 3:02AM was by far the earliest I'd ever clicked into a pair of skis, and it wasn't long before I realized why it wasn't a popular start time. After a few hours of shuffling quietly along the snow covered access road, stopping every once and a while to cross a patch of dry land, Carl and I both admitted we weren't necessarily in top notch head space. Three hours of sleep and two cups of coffee can only get you so far, and I was really feeling it. Shadows danced between the trees and snapping branches stopped us in our tracks more than once. There was something eerie about being so deep in the wilderness, wandering around a thickly wooded canyon home to grizzly bears, mountain lions and moose in the middle of the night, aided only by a uni-directional beam of light. If Carl hadn't been with me I'm not sure I would've retained sanity. Queasy and sleep deprived we continued the slog past the summer trailhead and into the South Fork of Darby, where the woods only got deeper, denser and darker. The higher we climbed the colder the morning became, dropping from a modest thirty degrees to a bone chilling fifteen. We layered up as the first glimpses of morning light illuminated the surrounding cliffs and eventually the summit of Fossil. Standing like a guardian over the basin below, the rock wrapped west face of loomed with foreboding ferocity over the canyon below, the morning wind whisping clouds and spiraling snow off the summit. Seeing the mountain did little to boost our enthusiasm; it looked wicked up there, and we had still yet seen the sun. Carl struggled to stay warm as I took the lead, forging our path to the col and continuing up the south ridge. Much to our excitement, the ridge was windswept and looked perfect for a quick climb, with plenty of rocks for traction and very little new snow. With a mere 800 feet of prominence, Fossil is less of an individual peak and more of a humongous rock perched atop a long, long, long ridge, so by the time we switched to crampons 95 percent of the work was behind us. Quickly and efficiently we climbed a mix of firm snow and ice up the modest 35-40 degree face, topping out on the 10,916 foot summit somewhere in the vicinity of 10 o'clock. [image] View of Darby Canyon's South Fork in the early morning light. [image] Carl employing spiky things on the way up Fossil [image] No time to drop the camera bag. The summit of Fossil Mountain with the Grand Teton and friends in the background Just as we expected, the East Face of Fossil Mountain was guarded with a hulking bulge of overhanging snow, putting into question whether or not we could even access our planned ski line. We brought a light rando-rope and harnesses with the intention of belaying the first skier into the face, but with the rapid warming of morning sun our confidence in the cornice's strength waned. The summit was also void of rock, meaning we would've had to build a ski anchor to rappel from. Ski anchors are notoriously sketchy to begin with, and to put the cherry atop this menacing sundae, we weren't even positive the East Face was filled in enough to ski. With half a dozen red flags glaring back at us, we swallowed our pride and opted for a conservative ski down the same face we ascended, scoring some hippie powder on the windswept ridge before traversing above a chute on the southeast ridge and popping into the lower East Face. When we looked up at our original plan, bailing was immediately validated. The East Face had avalanched recently, exposing the entire cliffband and filling the run-out with debris. Also, the school-bus sized cornice we suspected was definitely real, actively releasing wet snow and looked eager to separate from the mountain at moment's notice. We couldn't help but smile and exchange a few "Thank God's" as we scurried beneath the face to the foothills of Mount Bannon's southern ridge. [image] Looking back on the East Face of Fossil Mountain As we skinned towards Bannon the powerful, unobstructed sun unleashed it's fury. Within two hours we went from borderline frostbite to rolled up sleeves and baseball caps. Whilst certainly more comfortable, we also knew that warming to this degree could create dangerous avalanche conditions, especially with the new overnight snow. Because we were planning on skiing north for the remainder of the day, where surfaces see little sun and often remain cold, we didn't feel the need to abort ship just yet, but we were certainly on our toes. We reached the summit of 10,971 foot Mount Bannon after a relatively uneventful skin, but we weren't quick to linger. In similar fashion, our planned descent route was guarded by a nasty cornice, prompting us to once again take the tame route. We hop-turned our way through a slushy mess of solar snow on the NE Ridge before taking the first opportunity drop a safe line onto the lower portion of the North Face, scoring a few hundred feet of tremendous powder turns to the base of Mount Jedediah Smith. Looking back at a network of beautiful couloirs and ledges on the North Face, we were bummed to have left it behind, but also knew the mountain wasn't ready; we made the right choice. With the two crowning descents behind us, we savored a longer break and packed in some extra calories for the back half our day. [image] Carl doing his best radio tower impression. [image] Turn north for powder! Mount Jedediah Smith came and went with relative ease. The peak is more of a lump than an actual mountain, requiring only a few hundred feet of climbing from Bannon and a benign, moderately sloped ski on the north side. Ushered off the summit by a nasty wind surge, we battled a few hundred feet of wind scoured crust to the saddle between Jedediah and Meek, and immediately began making our way up our final climb of the day. While far from a behemoth, Mount Meek, standing tall at 10,686 feet, is deceptively larger than it's neighbor to the south. By the time the summit came into view, lactic acid was invading my legs and the piercing sun was making me dizzy. Carl didn't seem to have any trouble, but hey... I guess that's one of the perks of being a competitive nordic ski racer. He was already scouting our descent as I came up several minutes behind, tired and out of breath. From Meek I could see directly down Death Canyon to the flat-lands of Grand Teton National Park. Just north was the always impressive Grand Teton and to the west, my hometown, Victor, Idaho. To the south was Jedediah Smith, Bannon and Fossil, lined up perfectly like three ducks in a row, reflecting the first hues of late afternoon sun into my glasses. With my finger I could trace our path over all three, right to my skis on the final summit. I was overcome with a feeling of relief, accomplishment, and at the same time, the sobering realization that our adventure was far from over. By this point we'd decided conclusively on skiing Meek's North Couloir and exiting Teton Canyon. I knew roughly where the Teton Canyon parking lot was... and it wasn't close - not by a long shot. However, I had a plate full of powder to indulge in before worrying about any of the above! [image] The Big Four... well... three, from the fourth. Mount Bannon's north face looking particularly sexy. [image] Carl scoring the goods. [image] Maiden voyage complete for my trusty BD whippet! Post-ski high below the North Couloir on Mount Meek. The couloir was exactly as we'd imagined, steep, aesthetic and filled with phenomenal snow. I dropped first, skiing the line in one pull and scoring some of 2020's best turns. I pulled up below the cliffs to shoot pictures of Carl before following him out the apron and beginning our never-ending traverse along the Death Canyon Shelf, ultimately to Teton Canyon. Our post-powder highs quickly dissolved as we battled dangerously heavy snow on the Devil's Staircase, intentionally triggering a handful of wet slab avalanches to clear our path. Safely navigating to the bottom of Teton Canyon took much longer than expected, but you can't put a price on survival, so we took the delay in stride. The rest of our day involved a few miles of bushwhacking, one sketchy creek crossing, one moose encounter and 3.5 miles of cross-country skiing on the Teton Canyon road. As soon as we hit the groomed track I set Carl loose; I could tell he was anxious. When I finally reached the car around 8:00 PM, cramping feet and aching knees, he was stripped down to bare feet and sitting in the parking lot, grinning from ear to ear. The Big Four was ours, 17 hours and change, a record smashing tour for the both of us! A Spiritual Take: "Living is Victory" Diversions are part of the game in ski mountaineering, and a good mountaineer needs to be able to take them in stride. On Fossil and Bannon alike, our original objectives were barred with cornices and unsafe to descend. The first thought that flits through my mind in these situations is usually disappointment, closely followed by resistance and finally, often reluctantly, acceptance. Atop Fossil in particular, I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure a safe way onto the East Face, even though I knew we were best off leaving it behind. I let myself have these moments, so long as I see them for what they are and ultimately accept the option that brings me home safely. In the words of John Troillet, a famous french mountaineer, "living is victory." The phrase was coined during Jean and his team's 2008 attempt on the South Face of Nepal's Annapurna, where they spent over 50 days in base-camp, attempting to climb at least three times, only to return empty handed. I remind myself of Jean's words when deciding whether or not to take a risk in the mountains, and though much less dramatic, opting for the safe route down Fossil and Bannon was our way of accepting that "living is victory." To support Ten Thousand Too Far, consider a donation or subscribe below for new content! Type your email... Subscribe Join 49 other subscribers As always, a big thank you to my supporters and friends Icelantic Skis and Yostmark Mountain Equipment for all the gear, stoke and love! Check these guys out, they rock! Please return the terrain type below:

traverse

Based on the text given below determine the traverse type of the Big Four Traverse backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the traverse type please return "unsure". The traverse type should be one of the following options: out and back, point to point. Here is the text: Human Powered "Big Four" Traverse (Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Jed. Smith, Meek) - Tetons West (April 2020) [image] [image] Pre-Sunrise view from the saddle of Darby Canyon's South Fork I first heard mention of the Big Four Traverse, albeit not by that name, five years ago while picking the brain of a veteran lift mechanic over morning coffee at Grand Targhee Resort. He spoke of the four remote, seldom skied and closely grouped peaks, Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek, with a certain mystique, as if I was really missing out by directing all my attention as an aspiring ski mountaineer to Grand Teton National Park. At the time I wasn't ready to listen, too starstruck by classic Teton lines to venture off the beaten path; but after a half-decade of chipping away a ski resume in Teton Valley, "unconventional" strikes a certain kind of appeal. The Big Four lied well dormant until I went on my first tour with Carl Osterberg this past winter. Carl, a nordic skier and overall endurance machine, stated his intent to ski all four peaks in a single day, that the route was "something the locals do" and it had a name, the "Big Four." After several more trips with Carl, a traverse of the Palisades Range and a noteworthy descent of the Targhee classic - Treasure Bowl - talks of the Big Four began to flourish again. The more I looked into the route, the more excited I became. Not only was it a substantial challenge, but all four peaks offered a variety of excellent ski terrain, skyline prominence and the opportunity to break new ground in a range I've skied hundreds of times. After many hours of trip report scouring, Google Earth mapping and drop-car shuttling, Carl and I found ourselves in Darby Canyon at 3:02 AM, skis on our backs, headed for Fossil Mountain. [image] The Route The Big Four as we know it, is any traverse that involves climbing Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek in a single day. To my knowledge this traverse is rarely fully human powered and often assisted by snowmobile; no machines for us though, we'd be walking from the get go. Actually, I've never heard of a single report trailhead-to-trailhead on foot. From the winter closure, five miles of snow covered road stands between the car and the summer Wind Cave trailhead. From the trailhead, approximately three miles of average grade climbing takes you through the South Fork of Darby Canyon to the col at the base of Fossil's south ridge. We chose Fossil first because we planned to ski the East Face, a steep and exposed, often cornice'd line, studded with cliffs and a prime candidate for solar influenced avalanche danger. Fossil is not one of those mountains you want to be on when the day warms up. From Fossil, we planned to follow the geological crest north, up and over Bannon, Jedediah Smith and Meek, all of which offer north facing skiing less susceptible to sun effect. From the summit of Meek, we planned to ski a beautiful but relatively short couloir to the Death Shelf, where we would either re-gain Meek via "The Wedge" and ski out the Main Fork of Darby Canyon, or descend the Devil's Staircase and exit the South Fork of Teton Canyon. Undoubtedly the fastest choice would have been to ski directly into the Main Fork from the summit of Meek, but would've meant bypassing potentially the best ski descent of the day, which we were not willing to do. We left a shuttle car at Teton Canyon to give us a variety of exit options, packed our bags with as many calories as possible and prepared for an estimated 10,000 feet of elevation gain over an approximate distance of 20-22 miles. [image] Alone in the woods The Big Four 3:02AM was by far the earliest I'd ever clicked into a pair of skis, and it wasn't long before I realized why it wasn't a popular start time. After a few hours of shuffling quietly along the snow covered access road, stopping every once and a while to cross a patch of dry land, Carl and I both admitted we weren't necessarily in top notch head space. Three hours of sleep and two cups of coffee can only get you so far, and I was really feeling it. Shadows danced between the trees and snapping branches stopped us in our tracks more than once. There was something eerie about being so deep in the wilderness, wandering around a thickly wooded canyon home to grizzly bears, mountain lions and moose in the middle of the night, aided only by a uni-directional beam of light. If Carl hadn't been with me I'm not sure I would've retained sanity. Queasy and sleep deprived we continued the slog past the summer trailhead and into the South Fork of Darby, where the woods only got deeper, denser and darker. The higher we climbed the colder the morning became, dropping from a modest thirty degrees to a bone chilling fifteen. We layered up as the first glimpses of morning light illuminated the surrounding cliffs and eventually the summit of Fossil. Standing like a guardian over the basin below, the rock wrapped west face of loomed with foreboding ferocity over the canyon below, the morning wind whisping clouds and spiraling snow off the summit. Seeing the mountain did little to boost our enthusiasm; it looked wicked up there, and we had still yet seen the sun. Carl struggled to stay warm as I took the lead, forging our path to the col and continuing up the south ridge. Much to our excitement, the ridge was windswept and looked perfect for a quick climb, with plenty of rocks for traction and very little new snow. With a mere 800 feet of prominence, Fossil is less of an individual peak and more of a humongous rock perched atop a long, long, long ridge, so by the time we switched to crampons 95 percent of the work was behind us. Quickly and efficiently we climbed a mix of firm snow and ice up the modest 35-40 degree face, topping out on the 10,916 foot summit somewhere in the vicinity of 10 o'clock. [image] View of Darby Canyon's South Fork in the early morning light. [image] Carl employing spiky things on the way up Fossil [image] No time to drop the camera bag. The summit of Fossil Mountain with the Grand Teton and friends in the background Just as we expected, the East Face of Fossil Mountain was guarded with a hulking bulge of overhanging snow, putting into question whether or not we could even access our planned ski line. We brought a light rando-rope and harnesses with the intention of belaying the first skier into the face, but with the rapid warming of morning sun our confidence in the cornice's strength waned. The summit was also void of rock, meaning we would've had to build a ski anchor to rappel from. Ski anchors are notoriously sketchy to begin with, and to put the cherry atop this menacing sundae, we weren't even positive the East Face was filled in enough to ski. With half a dozen red flags glaring back at us, we swallowed our pride and opted for a conservative ski down the same face we ascended, scoring some hippie powder on the windswept ridge before traversing above a chute on the southeast ridge and popping into the lower East Face. When we looked up at our original plan, bailing was immediately validated. The East Face had avalanched recently, exposing the entire cliffband and filling the run-out with debris. Also, the school-bus sized cornice we suspected was definitely real, actively releasing wet snow and looked eager to separate from the mountain at moment's notice. We couldn't help but smile and exchange a few "Thank God's" as we scurried beneath the face to the foothills of Mount Bannon's southern ridge. [image] Looking back on the East Face of Fossil Mountain As we skinned towards Bannon the powerful, unobstructed sun unleashed it's fury. Within two hours we went from borderline frostbite to rolled up sleeves and baseball caps. Whilst certainly more comfortable, we also knew that warming to this degree could create dangerous avalanche conditions, especially with the new overnight snow. Because we were planning on skiing north for the remainder of the day, where surfaces see little sun and often remain cold, we didn't feel the need to abort ship just yet, but we were certainly on our toes. We reached the summit of 10,971 foot Mount Bannon after a relatively uneventful skin, but we weren't quick to linger. In similar fashion, our planned descent route was guarded by a nasty cornice, prompting us to once again take the tame route. We hop-turned our way through a slushy mess of solar snow on the NE Ridge before taking the first opportunity drop a safe line onto the lower portion of the North Face, scoring a few hundred feet of tremendous powder turns to the base of Mount Jedediah Smith. Looking back at a network of beautiful couloirs and ledges on the North Face, we were bummed to have left it behind, but also knew the mountain wasn't ready; we made the right choice. With the two crowning descents behind us, we savored a longer break and packed in some extra calories for the back half our day. [image] Carl doing his best radio tower impression. [image] Turn north for powder! Mount Jedediah Smith came and went with relative ease. The peak is more of a lump than an actual mountain, requiring only a few hundred feet of climbing from Bannon and a benign, moderately sloped ski on the north side. Ushered off the summit by a nasty wind surge, we battled a few hundred feet of wind scoured crust to the saddle between Jedediah and Meek, and immediately began making our way up our final climb of the day. While far from a behemoth, Mount Meek, standing tall at 10,686 feet, is deceptively larger than it's neighbor to the south. By the time the summit came into view, lactic acid was invading my legs and the piercing sun was making me dizzy. Carl didn't seem to have any trouble, but hey... I guess that's one of the perks of being a competitive nordic ski racer. He was already scouting our descent as I came up several minutes behind, tired and out of breath. From Meek I could see directly down Death Canyon to the flat-lands of Grand Teton National Park. Just north was the always impressive Grand Teton and to the west, my hometown, Victor, Idaho. To the south was Jedediah Smith, Bannon and Fossil, lined up perfectly like three ducks in a row, reflecting the first hues of late afternoon sun into my glasses. With my finger I could trace our path over all three, right to my skis on the final summit. I was overcome with a feeling of relief, accomplishment, and at the same time, the sobering realization that our adventure was far from over. By this point we'd decided conclusively on skiing Meek's North Couloir and exiting Teton Canyon. I knew roughly where the Teton Canyon parking lot was... and it wasn't close - not by a long shot. However, I had a plate full of powder to indulge in before worrying about any of the above! [image] The Big Four... well... three, from the fourth. Mount Bannon's north face looking particularly sexy. [image] Carl scoring the goods. [image] Maiden voyage complete for my trusty BD whippet! Post-ski high below the North Couloir on Mount Meek. The couloir was exactly as we'd imagined, steep, aesthetic and filled with phenomenal snow. I dropped first, skiing the line in one pull and scoring some of 2020's best turns. I pulled up below the cliffs to shoot pictures of Carl before following him out the apron and beginning our never-ending traverse along the Death Canyon Shelf, ultimately to Teton Canyon. Our post-powder highs quickly dissolved as we battled dangerously heavy snow on the Devil's Staircase, intentionally triggering a handful of wet slab avalanches to clear our path. Safely navigating to the bottom of Teton Canyon took much longer than expected, but you can't put a price on survival, so we took the delay in stride. The rest of our day involved a few miles of bushwhacking, one sketchy creek crossing, one moose encounter and 3.5 miles of cross-country skiing on the Teton Canyon road. As soon as we hit the groomed track I set Carl loose; I could tell he was anxious. When I finally reached the car around 8:00 PM, cramping feet and aching knees, he was stripped down to bare feet and sitting in the parking lot, grinning from ear to ear. The Big Four was ours, 17 hours and change, a record smashing tour for the both of us! A Spiritual Take: "Living is Victory" Diversions are part of the game in ski mountaineering, and a good mountaineer needs to be able to take them in stride. On Fossil and Bannon alike, our original objectives were barred with cornices and unsafe to descend. The first thought that flits through my mind in these situations is usually disappointment, closely followed by resistance and finally, often reluctantly, acceptance. Atop Fossil in particular, I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure a safe way onto the East Face, even though I knew we were best off leaving it behind. I let myself have these moments, so long as I see them for what they are and ultimately accept the option that brings me home safely. In the words of John Troillet, a famous french mountaineer, "living is victory." The phrase was coined during Jean and his team's 2008 attempt on the South Face of Nepal's Annapurna, where they spent over 50 days in base-camp, attempting to climb at least three times, only to return empty handed. I remind myself of Jean's words when deciding whether or not to take a risk in the mountains, and though much less dramatic, opting for the safe route down Fossil and Bannon was our way of accepting that "living is victory." To support Ten Thousand Too Far, consider a donation or subscribe below for new content! Type your email... Subscribe Join 49 other subscribers As always, a big thank you to my supporters and friends Icelantic Skis and Yostmark Mountain Equipment for all the gear, stoke and love! Check these guys out, they rock! Please return the traverse type below:

point to point

Based on the text given below determine the starting trailhead of the Big Four Traverse backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the starting trailhead please return "unsure". Feel free to provide multiple values for the starting trailhead. Here is the text: Human Powered "Big Four" Traverse (Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Jed. Smith, Meek) - Tetons West (April 2020) [image] [image] Pre-Sunrise view from the saddle of Darby Canyon's South Fork I first heard mention of the Big Four Traverse, albeit not by that name, five years ago while picking the brain of a veteran lift mechanic over morning coffee at Grand Targhee Resort. He spoke of the four remote, seldom skied and closely grouped peaks, Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek, with a certain mystique, as if I was really missing out by directing all my attention as an aspiring ski mountaineer to Grand Teton National Park. At the time I wasn't ready to listen, too starstruck by classic Teton lines to venture off the beaten path; but after a half-decade of chipping away a ski resume in Teton Valley, "unconventional" strikes a certain kind of appeal. The Big Four lied well dormant until I went on my first tour with Carl Osterberg this past winter. Carl, a nordic skier and overall endurance machine, stated his intent to ski all four peaks in a single day, that the route was "something the locals do" and it had a name, the "Big Four." After several more trips with Carl, a traverse of the Palisades Range and a noteworthy descent of the Targhee classic - Treasure Bowl - talks of the Big Four began to flourish again. The more I looked into the route, the more excited I became. Not only was it a substantial challenge, but all four peaks offered a variety of excellent ski terrain, skyline prominence and the opportunity to break new ground in a range I've skied hundreds of times. After many hours of trip report scouring, Google Earth mapping and drop-car shuttling, Carl and I found ourselves in Darby Canyon at 3:02 AM, skis on our backs, headed for Fossil Mountain. [image] The Route The Big Four as we know it, is any traverse that involves climbing Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek in a single day. To my knowledge this traverse is rarely fully human powered and often assisted by snowmobile; no machines for us though, we'd be walking from the get go. Actually, I've never heard of a single report trailhead-to-trailhead on foot. From the winter closure, five miles of snow covered road stands between the car and the summer Wind Cave trailhead. From the trailhead, approximately three miles of average grade climbing takes you through the South Fork of Darby Canyon to the col at the base of Fossil's south ridge. We chose Fossil first because we planned to ski the East Face, a steep and exposed, often cornice'd line, studded with cliffs and a prime candidate for solar influenced avalanche danger. Fossil is not one of those mountains you want to be on when the day warms up. From Fossil, we planned to follow the geological crest north, up and over Bannon, Jedediah Smith and Meek, all of which offer north facing skiing less susceptible to sun effect. From the summit of Meek, we planned to ski a beautiful but relatively short couloir to the Death Shelf, where we would either re-gain Meek via "The Wedge" and ski out the Main Fork of Darby Canyon, or descend the Devil's Staircase and exit the South Fork of Teton Canyon. Undoubtedly the fastest choice would have been to ski directly into the Main Fork from the summit of Meek, but would've meant bypassing potentially the best ski descent of the day, which we were not willing to do. We left a shuttle car at Teton Canyon to give us a variety of exit options, packed our bags with as many calories as possible and prepared for an estimated 10,000 feet of elevation gain over an approximate distance of 20-22 miles. [image] Alone in the woods The Big Four 3:02AM was by far the earliest I'd ever clicked into a pair of skis, and it wasn't long before I realized why it wasn't a popular start time. After a few hours of shuffling quietly along the snow covered access road, stopping every once and a while to cross a patch of dry land, Carl and I both admitted we weren't necessarily in top notch head space. Three hours of sleep and two cups of coffee can only get you so far, and I was really feeling it. Shadows danced between the trees and snapping branches stopped us in our tracks more than once. There was something eerie about being so deep in the wilderness, wandering around a thickly wooded canyon home to grizzly bears, mountain lions and moose in the middle of the night, aided only by a uni-directional beam of light. If Carl hadn't been with me I'm not sure I would've retained sanity. Queasy and sleep deprived we continued the slog past the summer trailhead and into the South Fork of Darby, where the woods only got deeper, denser and darker. The higher we climbed the colder the morning became, dropping from a modest thirty degrees to a bone chilling fifteen. We layered up as the first glimpses of morning light illuminated the surrounding cliffs and eventually the summit of Fossil. Standing like a guardian over the basin below, the rock wrapped west face of loomed with foreboding ferocity over the canyon below, the morning wind whisping clouds and spiraling snow off the summit. Seeing the mountain did little to boost our enthusiasm; it looked wicked up there, and we had still yet seen the sun. Carl struggled to stay warm as I took the lead, forging our path to the col and continuing up the south ridge. Much to our excitement, the ridge was windswept and looked perfect for a quick climb, with plenty of rocks for traction and very little new snow. With a mere 800 feet of prominence, Fossil is less of an individual peak and more of a humongous rock perched atop a long, long, long ridge, so by the time we switched to crampons 95 percent of the work was behind us. Quickly and efficiently we climbed a mix of firm snow and ice up the modest 35-40 degree face, topping out on the 10,916 foot summit somewhere in the vicinity of 10 o'clock. [image] View of Darby Canyon's South Fork in the early morning light. [image] Carl employing spiky things on the way up Fossil [image] No time to drop the camera bag. The summit of Fossil Mountain with the Grand Teton and friends in the background Just as we expected, the East Face of Fossil Mountain was guarded with a hulking bulge of overhanging snow, putting into question whether or not we could even access our planned ski line. We brought a light rando-rope and harnesses with the intention of belaying the first skier into the face, but with the rapid warming of morning sun our confidence in the cornice's strength waned. The summit was also void of rock, meaning we would've had to build a ski anchor to rappel from. Ski anchors are notoriously sketchy to begin with, and to put the cherry atop this menacing sundae, we weren't even positive the East Face was filled in enough to ski. With half a dozen red flags glaring back at us, we swallowed our pride and opted for a conservative ski down the same face we ascended, scoring some hippie powder on the windswept ridge before traversing above a chute on the southeast ridge and popping into the lower East Face. When we looked up at our original plan, bailing was immediately validated. The East Face had avalanched recently, exposing the entire cliffband and filling the run-out with debris. Also, the school-bus sized cornice we suspected was definitely real, actively releasing wet snow and looked eager to separate from the mountain at moment's notice. We couldn't help but smile and exchange a few "Thank God's" as we scurried beneath the face to the foothills of Mount Bannon's southern ridge. [image] Looking back on the East Face of Fossil Mountain As we skinned towards Bannon the powerful, unobstructed sun unleashed it's fury. Within two hours we went from borderline frostbite to rolled up sleeves and baseball caps. Whilst certainly more comfortable, we also knew that warming to this degree could create dangerous avalanche conditions, especially with the new overnight snow. Because we were planning on skiing north for the remainder of the day, where surfaces see little sun and often remain cold, we didn't feel the need to abort ship just yet, but we were certainly on our toes. We reached the summit of 10,971 foot Mount Bannon after a relatively uneventful skin, but we weren't quick to linger. In similar fashion, our planned descent route was guarded by a nasty cornice, prompting us to once again take the tame route. We hop-turned our way through a slushy mess of solar snow on the NE Ridge before taking the first opportunity drop a safe line onto the lower portion of the North Face, scoring a few hundred feet of tremendous powder turns to the base of Mount Jedediah Smith. Looking back at a network of beautiful couloirs and ledges on the North Face, we were bummed to have left it behind, but also knew the mountain wasn't ready; we made the right choice. With the two crowning descents behind us, we savored a longer break and packed in some extra calories for the back half our day. [image] Carl doing his best radio tower impression. [image] Turn north for powder! Mount Jedediah Smith came and went with relative ease. The peak is more of a lump than an actual mountain, requiring only a few hundred feet of climbing from Bannon and a benign, moderately sloped ski on the north side. Ushered off the summit by a nasty wind surge, we battled a few hundred feet of wind scoured crust to the saddle between Jedediah and Meek, and immediately began making our way up our final climb of the day. While far from a behemoth, Mount Meek, standing tall at 10,686 feet, is deceptively larger than it's neighbor to the south. By the time the summit came into view, lactic acid was invading my legs and the piercing sun was making me dizzy. Carl didn't seem to have any trouble, but hey... I guess that's one of the perks of being a competitive nordic ski racer. He was already scouting our descent as I came up several minutes behind, tired and out of breath. From Meek I could see directly down Death Canyon to the flat-lands of Grand Teton National Park. Just north was the always impressive Grand Teton and to the west, my hometown, Victor, Idaho. To the south was Jedediah Smith, Bannon and Fossil, lined up perfectly like three ducks in a row, reflecting the first hues of late afternoon sun into my glasses. With my finger I could trace our path over all three, right to my skis on the final summit. I was overcome with a feeling of relief, accomplishment, and at the same time, the sobering realization that our adventure was far from over. By this point we'd decided conclusively on skiing Meek's North Couloir and exiting Teton Canyon. I knew roughly where the Teton Canyon parking lot was... and it wasn't close - not by a long shot. However, I had a plate full of powder to indulge in before worrying about any of the above! [image] The Big Four... well... three, from the fourth. Mount Bannon's north face looking particularly sexy. [image] Carl scoring the goods. [image] Maiden voyage complete for my trusty BD whippet! Post-ski high below the North Couloir on Mount Meek. The couloir was exactly as we'd imagined, steep, aesthetic and filled with phenomenal snow. I dropped first, skiing the line in one pull and scoring some of 2020's best turns. I pulled up below the cliffs to shoot pictures of Carl before following him out the apron and beginning our never-ending traverse along the Death Canyon Shelf, ultimately to Teton Canyon. Our post-powder highs quickly dissolved as we battled dangerously heavy snow on the Devil's Staircase, intentionally triggering a handful of wet slab avalanches to clear our path. Safely navigating to the bottom of Teton Canyon took much longer than expected, but you can't put a price on survival, so we took the delay in stride. The rest of our day involved a few miles of bushwhacking, one sketchy creek crossing, one moose encounter and 3.5 miles of cross-country skiing on the Teton Canyon road. As soon as we hit the groomed track I set Carl loose; I could tell he was anxious. When I finally reached the car around 8:00 PM, cramping feet and aching knees, he was stripped down to bare feet and sitting in the parking lot, grinning from ear to ear. The Big Four was ours, 17 hours and change, a record smashing tour for the both of us! A Spiritual Take: "Living is Victory" Diversions are part of the game in ski mountaineering, and a good mountaineer needs to be able to take them in stride. On Fossil and Bannon alike, our original objectives were barred with cornices and unsafe to descend. The first thought that flits through my mind in these situations is usually disappointment, closely followed by resistance and finally, often reluctantly, acceptance. Atop Fossil in particular, I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure a safe way onto the East Face, even though I knew we were best off leaving it behind. I let myself have these moments, so long as I see them for what they are and ultimately accept the option that brings me home safely. In the words of John Troillet, a famous french mountaineer, "living is victory." The phrase was coined during Jean and his team's 2008 attempt on the South Face of Nepal's Annapurna, where they spent over 50 days in base-camp, attempting to climb at least three times, only to return empty handed. I remind myself of Jean's words when deciding whether or not to take a risk in the mountains, and though much less dramatic, opting for the safe route down Fossil and Bannon was our way of accepting that "living is victory." To support Ten Thousand Too Far, consider a donation or subscribe below for new content! Type your email... Subscribe Join 49 other subscribers As always, a big thank you to my supporters and friends Icelantic Skis and Yostmark Mountain Equipment for all the gear, stoke and love! Check these guys out, they rock! Please return the starting trailhead below:

Darby Canyon

Based on the text given below determine the ending trailhead of the Big Four Traverse backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the ending trailhead please return "unsure". Feel free to provide multiple values for the ending trailhead. Here is the text: Human Powered "Big Four" Traverse (Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Jed. Smith, Meek) - Tetons West (April 2020) [image] [image] Pre-Sunrise view from the saddle of Darby Canyon's South Fork I first heard mention of the Big Four Traverse, albeit not by that name, five years ago while picking the brain of a veteran lift mechanic over morning coffee at Grand Targhee Resort. He spoke of the four remote, seldom skied and closely grouped peaks, Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek, with a certain mystique, as if I was really missing out by directing all my attention as an aspiring ski mountaineer to Grand Teton National Park. At the time I wasn't ready to listen, too starstruck by classic Teton lines to venture off the beaten path; but after a half-decade of chipping away a ski resume in Teton Valley, "unconventional" strikes a certain kind of appeal. The Big Four lied well dormant until I went on my first tour with Carl Osterberg this past winter. Carl, a nordic skier and overall endurance machine, stated his intent to ski all four peaks in a single day, that the route was "something the locals do" and it had a name, the "Big Four." After several more trips with Carl, a traverse of the Palisades Range and a noteworthy descent of the Targhee classic - Treasure Bowl - talks of the Big Four began to flourish again. The more I looked into the route, the more excited I became. Not only was it a substantial challenge, but all four peaks offered a variety of excellent ski terrain, skyline prominence and the opportunity to break new ground in a range I've skied hundreds of times. After many hours of trip report scouring, Google Earth mapping and drop-car shuttling, Carl and I found ourselves in Darby Canyon at 3:02 AM, skis on our backs, headed for Fossil Mountain. [image] The Route The Big Four as we know it, is any traverse that involves climbing Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek in a single day. To my knowledge this traverse is rarely fully human powered and often assisted by snowmobile; no machines for us though, we'd be walking from the get go. Actually, I've never heard of a single report trailhead-to-trailhead on foot. From the winter closure, five miles of snow covered road stands between the car and the summer Wind Cave trailhead. From the trailhead, approximately three miles of average grade climbing takes you through the South Fork of Darby Canyon to the col at the base of Fossil's south ridge. We chose Fossil first because we planned to ski the East Face, a steep and exposed, often cornice'd line, studded with cliffs and a prime candidate for solar influenced avalanche danger. Fossil is not one of those mountains you want to be on when the day warms up. From Fossil, we planned to follow the geological crest north, up and over Bannon, Jedediah Smith and Meek, all of which offer north facing skiing less susceptible to sun effect. From the summit of Meek, we planned to ski a beautiful but relatively short couloir to the Death Shelf, where we would either re-gain Meek via "The Wedge" and ski out the Main Fork of Darby Canyon, or descend the Devil's Staircase and exit the South Fork of Teton Canyon. Undoubtedly the fastest choice would have been to ski directly into the Main Fork from the summit of Meek, but would've meant bypassing potentially the best ski descent of the day, which we were not willing to do. We left a shuttle car at Teton Canyon to give us a variety of exit options, packed our bags with as many calories as possible and prepared for an estimated 10,000 feet of elevation gain over an approximate distance of 20-22 miles. [image] Alone in the woods The Big Four 3:02AM was by far the earliest I'd ever clicked into a pair of skis, and it wasn't long before I realized why it wasn't a popular start time. After a few hours of shuffling quietly along the snow covered access road, stopping every once and a while to cross a patch of dry land, Carl and I both admitted we weren't necessarily in top notch head space. Three hours of sleep and two cups of coffee can only get you so far, and I was really feeling it. Shadows danced between the trees and snapping branches stopped us in our tracks more than once. There was something eerie about being so deep in the wilderness, wandering around a thickly wooded canyon home to grizzly bears, mountain lions and moose in the middle of the night, aided only by a uni-directional beam of light. If Carl hadn't been with me I'm not sure I would've retained sanity. Queasy and sleep deprived we continued the slog past the summer trailhead and into the South Fork of Darby, where the woods only got deeper, denser and darker. The higher we climbed the colder the morning became, dropping from a modest thirty degrees to a bone chilling fifteen. We layered up as the first glimpses of morning light illuminated the surrounding cliffs and eventually the summit of Fossil. Standing like a guardian over the basin below, the rock wrapped west face of loomed with foreboding ferocity over the canyon below, the morning wind whisping clouds and spiraling snow off the summit. Seeing the mountain did little to boost our enthusiasm; it looked wicked up there, and we had still yet seen the sun. Carl struggled to stay warm as I took the lead, forging our path to the col and continuing up the south ridge. Much to our excitement, the ridge was windswept and looked perfect for a quick climb, with plenty of rocks for traction and very little new snow. With a mere 800 feet of prominence, Fossil is less of an individual peak and more of a humongous rock perched atop a long, long, long ridge, so by the time we switched to crampons 95 percent of the work was behind us. Quickly and efficiently we climbed a mix of firm snow and ice up the modest 35-40 degree face, topping out on the 10,916 foot summit somewhere in the vicinity of 10 o'clock. [image] View of Darby Canyon's South Fork in the early morning light. [image] Carl employing spiky things on the way up Fossil [image] No time to drop the camera bag. The summit of Fossil Mountain with the Grand Teton and friends in the background Just as we expected, the East Face of Fossil Mountain was guarded with a hulking bulge of overhanging snow, putting into question whether or not we could even access our planned ski line. We brought a light rando-rope and harnesses with the intention of belaying the first skier into the face, but with the rapid warming of morning sun our confidence in the cornice's strength waned. The summit was also void of rock, meaning we would've had to build a ski anchor to rappel from. Ski anchors are notoriously sketchy to begin with, and to put the cherry atop this menacing sundae, we weren't even positive the East Face was filled in enough to ski. With half a dozen red flags glaring back at us, we swallowed our pride and opted for a conservative ski down the same face we ascended, scoring some hippie powder on the windswept ridge before traversing above a chute on the southeast ridge and popping into the lower East Face. When we looked up at our original plan, bailing was immediately validated. The East Face had avalanched recently, exposing the entire cliffband and filling the run-out with debris. Also, the school-bus sized cornice we suspected was definitely real, actively releasing wet snow and looked eager to separate from the mountain at moment's notice. We couldn't help but smile and exchange a few "Thank God's" as we scurried beneath the face to the foothills of Mount Bannon's southern ridge. [image] Looking back on the East Face of Fossil Mountain As we skinned towards Bannon the powerful, unobstructed sun unleashed it's fury. Within two hours we went from borderline frostbite to rolled up sleeves and baseball caps. Whilst certainly more comfortable, we also knew that warming to this degree could create dangerous avalanche conditions, especially with the new overnight snow. Because we were planning on skiing north for the remainder of the day, where surfaces see little sun and often remain cold, we didn't feel the need to abort ship just yet, but we were certainly on our toes. We reached the summit of 10,971 foot Mount Bannon after a relatively uneventful skin, but we weren't quick to linger. In similar fashion, our planned descent route was guarded by a nasty cornice, prompting us to once again take the tame route. We hop-turned our way through a slushy mess of solar snow on the NE Ridge before taking the first opportunity drop a safe line onto the lower portion of the North Face, scoring a few hundred feet of tremendous powder turns to the base of Mount Jedediah Smith. Looking back at a network of beautiful couloirs and ledges on the North Face, we were bummed to have left it behind, but also knew the mountain wasn't ready; we made the right choice. With the two crowning descents behind us, we savored a longer break and packed in some extra calories for the back half our day. [image] Carl doing his best radio tower impression. [image] Turn north for powder! Mount Jedediah Smith came and went with relative ease. The peak is more of a lump than an actual mountain, requiring only a few hundred feet of climbing from Bannon and a benign, moderately sloped ski on the north side. Ushered off the summit by a nasty wind surge, we battled a few hundred feet of wind scoured crust to the saddle between Jedediah and Meek, and immediately began making our way up our final climb of the day. While far from a behemoth, Mount Meek, standing tall at 10,686 feet, is deceptively larger than it's neighbor to the south. By the time the summit came into view, lactic acid was invading my legs and the piercing sun was making me dizzy. Carl didn't seem to have any trouble, but hey... I guess that's one of the perks of being a competitive nordic ski racer. He was already scouting our descent as I came up several minutes behind, tired and out of breath. From Meek I could see directly down Death Canyon to the flat-lands of Grand Teton National Park. Just north was the always impressive Grand Teton and to the west, my hometown, Victor, Idaho. To the south was Jedediah Smith, Bannon and Fossil, lined up perfectly like three ducks in a row, reflecting the first hues of late afternoon sun into my glasses. With my finger I could trace our path over all three, right to my skis on the final summit. I was overcome with a feeling of relief, accomplishment, and at the same time, the sobering realization that our adventure was far from over. By this point we'd decided conclusively on skiing Meek's North Couloir and exiting Teton Canyon. I knew roughly where the Teton Canyon parking lot was... and it wasn't close - not by a long shot. However, I had a plate full of powder to indulge in before worrying about any of the above! [image] The Big Four... well... three, from the fourth. Mount Bannon's north face looking particularly sexy. [image] Carl scoring the goods. [image] Maiden voyage complete for my trusty BD whippet! Post-ski high below the North Couloir on Mount Meek. The couloir was exactly as we'd imagined, steep, aesthetic and filled with phenomenal snow. I dropped first, skiing the line in one pull and scoring some of 2020's best turns. I pulled up below the cliffs to shoot pictures of Carl before following him out the apron and beginning our never-ending traverse along the Death Canyon Shelf, ultimately to Teton Canyon. Our post-powder highs quickly dissolved as we battled dangerously heavy snow on the Devil's Staircase, intentionally triggering a handful of wet slab avalanches to clear our path. Safely navigating to the bottom of Teton Canyon took much longer than expected, but you can't put a price on survival, so we took the delay in stride. The rest of our day involved a few miles of bushwhacking, one sketchy creek crossing, one moose encounter and 3.5 miles of cross-country skiing on the Teton Canyon road. As soon as we hit the groomed track I set Carl loose; I could tell he was anxious. When I finally reached the car around 8:00 PM, cramping feet and aching knees, he was stripped down to bare feet and sitting in the parking lot, grinning from ear to ear. The Big Four was ours, 17 hours and change, a record smashing tour for the both of us! A Spiritual Take: "Living is Victory" Diversions are part of the game in ski mountaineering, and a good mountaineer needs to be able to take them in stride. On Fossil and Bannon alike, our original objectives were barred with cornices and unsafe to descend. The first thought that flits through my mind in these situations is usually disappointment, closely followed by resistance and finally, often reluctantly, acceptance. Atop Fossil in particular, I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure a safe way onto the East Face, even though I knew we were best off leaving it behind. I let myself have these moments, so long as I see them for what they are and ultimately accept the option that brings me home safely. In the words of John Troillet, a famous french mountaineer, "living is victory." The phrase was coined during Jean and his team's 2008 attempt on the South Face of Nepal's Annapurna, where they spent over 50 days in base-camp, attempting to climb at least three times, only to return empty handed. I remind myself of Jean's words when deciding whether or not to take a risk in the mountains, and though much less dramatic, opting for the safe route down Fossil and Bannon was our way of accepting that "living is victory." To support Ten Thousand Too Far, consider a donation or subscribe below for new content! Type your email... Subscribe Join 49 other subscribers As always, a big thank you to my supporters and friends Icelantic Skis and Yostmark Mountain Equipment for all the gear, stoke and love! Check these guys out, they rock! Please return the ending trailhead below:

Teton Canyon

Based on the text given below determine the popularity of the Big Four Traverse backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the popularity please return "unsure". The popularity should be one of the following options: not popular, somewhat popular, very popular. Here is the text: Human Powered "Big Four" Traverse (Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Jed. Smith, Meek) - Tetons West (April 2020) [image] [image] Pre-Sunrise view from the saddle of Darby Canyon's South Fork I first heard mention of the Big Four Traverse, albeit not by that name, five years ago while picking the brain of a veteran lift mechanic over morning coffee at Grand Targhee Resort. He spoke of the four remote, seldom skied and closely grouped peaks, Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek, with a certain mystique, as if I was really missing out by directing all my attention as an aspiring ski mountaineer to Grand Teton National Park. At the time I wasn't ready to listen, too starstruck by classic Teton lines to venture off the beaten path; but after a half-decade of chipping away a ski resume in Teton Valley, "unconventional" strikes a certain kind of appeal. The Big Four lied well dormant until I went on my first tour with Carl Osterberg this past winter. Carl, a nordic skier and overall endurance machine, stated his intent to ski all four peaks in a single day, that the route was "something the locals do" and it had a name, the "Big Four." After several more trips with Carl, a traverse of the Palisades Range and a noteworthy descent of the Targhee classic - Treasure Bowl - talks of the Big Four began to flourish again. The more I looked into the route, the more excited I became. Not only was it a substantial challenge, but all four peaks offered a variety of excellent ski terrain, skyline prominence and the opportunity to break new ground in a range I've skied hundreds of times. After many hours of trip report scouring, Google Earth mapping and drop-car shuttling, Carl and I found ourselves in Darby Canyon at 3:02 AM, skis on our backs, headed for Fossil Mountain. [image] The Route The Big Four as we know it, is any traverse that involves climbing Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek in a single day. To my knowledge this traverse is rarely fully human powered and often assisted by snowmobile; no machines for us though, we'd be walking from the get go. Actually, I've never heard of a single report trailhead-to-trailhead on foot. From the winter closure, five miles of snow covered road stands between the car and the summer Wind Cave trailhead. From the trailhead, approximately three miles of average grade climbing takes you through the South Fork of Darby Canyon to the col at the base of Fossil's south ridge. We chose Fossil first because we planned to ski the East Face, a steep and exposed, often cornice'd line, studded with cliffs and a prime candidate for solar influenced avalanche danger. Fossil is not one of those mountains you want to be on when the day warms up. From Fossil, we planned to follow the geological crest north, up and over Bannon, Jedediah Smith and Meek, all of which offer north facing skiing less susceptible to sun effect. From the summit of Meek, we planned to ski a beautiful but relatively short couloir to the Death Shelf, where we would either re-gain Meek via "The Wedge" and ski out the Main Fork of Darby Canyon, or descend the Devil's Staircase and exit the South Fork of Teton Canyon. Undoubtedly the fastest choice would have been to ski directly into the Main Fork from the summit of Meek, but would've meant bypassing potentially the best ski descent of the day, which we were not willing to do. We left a shuttle car at Teton Canyon to give us a variety of exit options, packed our bags with as many calories as possible and prepared for an estimated 10,000 feet of elevation gain over an approximate distance of 20-22 miles. [image] Alone in the woods The Big Four 3:02AM was by far the earliest I'd ever clicked into a pair of skis, and it wasn't long before I realized why it wasn't a popular start time. After a few hours of shuffling quietly along the snow covered access road, stopping every once and a while to cross a patch of dry land, Carl and I both admitted we weren't necessarily in top notch head space. Three hours of sleep and two cups of coffee can only get you so far, and I was really feeling it. Shadows danced between the trees and snapping branches stopped us in our tracks more than once. There was something eerie about being so deep in the wilderness, wandering around a thickly wooded canyon home to grizzly bears, mountain lions and moose in the middle of the night, aided only by a uni-directional beam of light. If Carl hadn't been with me I'm not sure I would've retained sanity. Queasy and sleep deprived we continued the slog past the summer trailhead and into the South Fork of Darby, where the woods only got deeper, denser and darker. The higher we climbed the colder the morning became, dropping from a modest thirty degrees to a bone chilling fifteen. We layered up as the first glimpses of morning light illuminated the surrounding cliffs and eventually the summit of Fossil. Standing like a guardian over the basin below, the rock wrapped west face of loomed with foreboding ferocity over the canyon below, the morning wind whisping clouds and spiraling snow off the summit. Seeing the mountain did little to boost our enthusiasm; it looked wicked up there, and we had still yet seen the sun. Carl struggled to stay warm as I took the lead, forging our path to the col and continuing up the south ridge. Much to our excitement, the ridge was windswept and looked perfect for a quick climb, with plenty of rocks for traction and very little new snow. With a mere 800 feet of prominence, Fossil is less of an individual peak and more of a humongous rock perched atop a long, long, long ridge, so by the time we switched to crampons 95 percent of the work was behind us. Quickly and efficiently we climbed a mix of firm snow and ice up the modest 35-40 degree face, topping out on the 10,916 foot summit somewhere in the vicinity of 10 o'clock. [image] View of Darby Canyon's South Fork in the early morning light. [image] Carl employing spiky things on the way up Fossil [image] No time to drop the camera bag. The summit of Fossil Mountain with the Grand Teton and friends in the background Just as we expected, the East Face of Fossil Mountain was guarded with a hulking bulge of overhanging snow, putting into question whether or not we could even access our planned ski line. We brought a light rando-rope and harnesses with the intention of belaying the first skier into the face, but with the rapid warming of morning sun our confidence in the cornice's strength waned. The summit was also void of rock, meaning we would've had to build a ski anchor to rappel from. Ski anchors are notoriously sketchy to begin with, and to put the cherry atop this menacing sundae, we weren't even positive the East Face was filled in enough to ski. With half a dozen red flags glaring back at us, we swallowed our pride and opted for a conservative ski down the same face we ascended, scoring some hippie powder on the windswept ridge before traversing above a chute on the southeast ridge and popping into the lower East Face. When we looked up at our original plan, bailing was immediately validated. The East Face had avalanched recently, exposing the entire cliffband and filling the run-out with debris. Also, the school-bus sized cornice we suspected was definitely real, actively releasing wet snow and looked eager to separate from the mountain at moment's notice. We couldn't help but smile and exchange a few "Thank God's" as we scurried beneath the face to the foothills of Mount Bannon's southern ridge. [image] Looking back on the East Face of Fossil Mountain As we skinned towards Bannon the powerful, unobstructed sun unleashed it's fury. Within two hours we went from borderline frostbite to rolled up sleeves and baseball caps. Whilst certainly more comfortable, we also knew that warming to this degree could create dangerous avalanche conditions, especially with the new overnight snow. Because we were planning on skiing north for the remainder of the day, where surfaces see little sun and often remain cold, we didn't feel the need to abort ship just yet, but we were certainly on our toes. We reached the summit of 10,971 foot Mount Bannon after a relatively uneventful skin, but we weren't quick to linger. In similar fashion, our planned descent route was guarded by a nasty cornice, prompting us to once again take the tame route. We hop-turned our way through a slushy mess of solar snow on the NE Ridge before taking the first opportunity drop a safe line onto the lower portion of the North Face, scoring a few hundred feet of tremendous powder turns to the base of Mount Jedediah Smith. Looking back at a network of beautiful couloirs and ledges on the North Face, we were bummed to have left it behind, but also knew the mountain wasn't ready; we made the right choice. With the two crowning descents behind us, we savored a longer break and packed in some extra calories for the back half our day. [image] Carl doing his best radio tower impression. [image] Turn north for powder! Mount Jedediah Smith came and went with relative ease. The peak is more of a lump than an actual mountain, requiring only a few hundred feet of climbing from Bannon and a benign, moderately sloped ski on the north side. Ushered off the summit by a nasty wind surge, we battled a few hundred feet of wind scoured crust to the saddle between Jedediah and Meek, and immediately began making our way up our final climb of the day. While far from a behemoth, Mount Meek, standing tall at 10,686 feet, is deceptively larger than it's neighbor to the south. By the time the summit came into view, lactic acid was invading my legs and the piercing sun was making me dizzy. Carl didn't seem to have any trouble, but hey... I guess that's one of the perks of being a competitive nordic ski racer. He was already scouting our descent as I came up several minutes behind, tired and out of breath. From Meek I could see directly down Death Canyon to the flat-lands of Grand Teton National Park. Just north was the always impressive Grand Teton and to the west, my hometown, Victor, Idaho. To the south was Jedediah Smith, Bannon and Fossil, lined up perfectly like three ducks in a row, reflecting the first hues of late afternoon sun into my glasses. With my finger I could trace our path over all three, right to my skis on the final summit. I was overcome with a feeling of relief, accomplishment, and at the same time, the sobering realization that our adventure was far from over. By this point we'd decided conclusively on skiing Meek's North Couloir and exiting Teton Canyon. I knew roughly where the Teton Canyon parking lot was... and it wasn't close - not by a long shot. However, I had a plate full of powder to indulge in before worrying about any of the above! [image] The Big Four... well... three, from the fourth. Mount Bannon's north face looking particularly sexy. [image] Carl scoring the goods. [image] Maiden voyage complete for my trusty BD whippet! Post-ski high below the North Couloir on Mount Meek. The couloir was exactly as we'd imagined, steep, aesthetic and filled with phenomenal snow. I dropped first, skiing the line in one pull and scoring some of 2020's best turns. I pulled up below the cliffs to shoot pictures of Carl before following him out the apron and beginning our never-ending traverse along the Death Canyon Shelf, ultimately to Teton Canyon. Our post-powder highs quickly dissolved as we battled dangerously heavy snow on the Devil's Staircase, intentionally triggering a handful of wet slab avalanches to clear our path. Safely navigating to the bottom of Teton Canyon took much longer than expected, but you can't put a price on survival, so we took the delay in stride. The rest of our day involved a few miles of bushwhacking, one sketchy creek crossing, one moose encounter and 3.5 miles of cross-country skiing on the Teton Canyon road. As soon as we hit the groomed track I set Carl loose; I could tell he was anxious. When I finally reached the car around 8:00 PM, cramping feet and aching knees, he was stripped down to bare feet and sitting in the parking lot, grinning from ear to ear. The Big Four was ours, 17 hours and change, a record smashing tour for the both of us! A Spiritual Take: "Living is Victory" Diversions are part of the game in ski mountaineering, and a good mountaineer needs to be able to take them in stride. On Fossil and Bannon alike, our original objectives were barred with cornices and unsafe to descend. The first thought that flits through my mind in these situations is usually disappointment, closely followed by resistance and finally, often reluctantly, acceptance. Atop Fossil in particular, I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure a safe way onto the East Face, even though I knew we were best off leaving it behind. I let myself have these moments, so long as I see them for what they are and ultimately accept the option that brings me home safely. In the words of John Troillet, a famous french mountaineer, "living is victory." The phrase was coined during Jean and his team's 2008 attempt on the South Face of Nepal's Annapurna, where they spent over 50 days in base-camp, attempting to climb at least three times, only to return empty handed. I remind myself of Jean's words when deciding whether or not to take a risk in the mountains, and though much less dramatic, opting for the safe route down Fossil and Bannon was our way of accepting that "living is victory." To support Ten Thousand Too Far, consider a donation or subscribe below for new content! Type your email... Subscribe Join 49 other subscribers As always, a big thank you to my supporters and friends Icelantic Skis and Yostmark Mountain Equipment for all the gear, stoke and love! Check these guys out, they rock! Please return the popularity below:

not popular

Based on the text given below determine the duration of the Big Four Traverse backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the duration please return "unsure". The duration should be a number with units of hours. Here is the text: Human Powered "Big Four" Traverse (Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Jed. Smith, Meek) - Tetons West (April 2020) [image] [image] Pre-Sunrise view from the saddle of Darby Canyon's South Fork I first heard mention of the Big Four Traverse, albeit not by that name, five years ago while picking the brain of a veteran lift mechanic over morning coffee at Grand Targhee Resort. He spoke of the four remote, seldom skied and closely grouped peaks, Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek, with a certain mystique, as if I was really missing out by directing all my attention as an aspiring ski mountaineer to Grand Teton National Park. At the time I wasn't ready to listen, too starstruck by classic Teton lines to venture off the beaten path; but after a half-decade of chipping away a ski resume in Teton Valley, "unconventional" strikes a certain kind of appeal. The Big Four lied well dormant until I went on my first tour with Carl Osterberg this past winter. Carl, a nordic skier and overall endurance machine, stated his intent to ski all four peaks in a single day, that the route was "something the locals do" and it had a name, the "Big Four." After several more trips with Carl, a traverse of the Palisades Range and a noteworthy descent of the Targhee classic - Treasure Bowl - talks of the Big Four began to flourish again. The more I looked into the route, the more excited I became. Not only was it a substantial challenge, but all four peaks offered a variety of excellent ski terrain, skyline prominence and the opportunity to break new ground in a range I've skied hundreds of times. After many hours of trip report scouring, Google Earth mapping and drop-car shuttling, Carl and I found ourselves in Darby Canyon at 3:02 AM, skis on our backs, headed for Fossil Mountain. [image] The Route The Big Four as we know it, is any traverse that involves climbing Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek in a single day. To my knowledge this traverse is rarely fully human powered and often assisted by snowmobile; no machines for us though, we'd be walking from the get go. Actually, I've never heard of a single report trailhead-to-trailhead on foot. From the winter closure, five miles of snow covered road stands between the car and the summer Wind Cave trailhead. From the trailhead, approximately three miles of average grade climbing takes you through the South Fork of Darby Canyon to the col at the base of Fossil's south ridge. We chose Fossil first because we planned to ski the East Face, a steep and exposed, often cornice'd line, studded with cliffs and a prime candidate for solar influenced avalanche danger. Fossil is not one of those mountains you want to be on when the day warms up. From Fossil, we planned to follow the geological crest north, up and over Bannon, Jedediah Smith and Meek, all of which offer north facing skiing less susceptible to sun effect. From the summit of Meek, we planned to ski a beautiful but relatively short couloir to the Death Shelf, where we would either re-gain Meek via "The Wedge" and ski out the Main Fork of Darby Canyon, or descend the Devil's Staircase and exit the South Fork of Teton Canyon. Undoubtedly the fastest choice would have been to ski directly into the Main Fork from the summit of Meek, but would've meant bypassing potentially the best ski descent of the day, which we were not willing to do. We left a shuttle car at Teton Canyon to give us a variety of exit options, packed our bags with as many calories as possible and prepared for an estimated 10,000 feet of elevation gain over an approximate distance of 20-22 miles. [image] Alone in the woods The Big Four 3:02AM was by far the earliest I'd ever clicked into a pair of skis, and it wasn't long before I realized why it wasn't a popular start time. After a few hours of shuffling quietly along the snow covered access road, stopping every once and a while to cross a patch of dry land, Carl and I both admitted we weren't necessarily in top notch head space. Three hours of sleep and two cups of coffee can only get you so far, and I was really feeling it. Shadows danced between the trees and snapping branches stopped us in our tracks more than once. There was something eerie about being so deep in the wilderness, wandering around a thickly wooded canyon home to grizzly bears, mountain lions and moose in the middle of the night, aided only by a uni-directional beam of light. If Carl hadn't been with me I'm not sure I would've retained sanity. Queasy and sleep deprived we continued the slog past the summer trailhead and into the South Fork of Darby, where the woods only got deeper, denser and darker. The higher we climbed the colder the morning became, dropping from a modest thirty degrees to a bone chilling fifteen. We layered up as the first glimpses of morning light illuminated the surrounding cliffs and eventually the summit of Fossil. Standing like a guardian over the basin below, the rock wrapped west face of loomed with foreboding ferocity over the canyon below, the morning wind whisping clouds and spiraling snow off the summit. Seeing the mountain did little to boost our enthusiasm; it looked wicked up there, and we had still yet seen the sun. Carl struggled to stay warm as I took the lead, forging our path to the col and continuing up the south ridge. Much to our excitement, the ridge was windswept and looked perfect for a quick climb, with plenty of rocks for traction and very little new snow. With a mere 800 feet of prominence, Fossil is less of an individual peak and more of a humongous rock perched atop a long, long, long ridge, so by the time we switched to crampons 95 percent of the work was behind us. Quickly and efficiently we climbed a mix of firm snow and ice up the modest 35-40 degree face, topping out on the 10,916 foot summit somewhere in the vicinity of 10 o'clock. [image] View of Darby Canyon's South Fork in the early morning light. [image] Carl employing spiky things on the way up Fossil [image] No time to drop the camera bag. The summit of Fossil Mountain with the Grand Teton and friends in the background Just as we expected, the East Face of Fossil Mountain was guarded with a hulking bulge of overhanging snow, putting into question whether or not we could even access our planned ski line. We brought a light rando-rope and harnesses with the intention of belaying the first skier into the face, but with the rapid warming of morning sun our confidence in the cornice's strength waned. The summit was also void of rock, meaning we would've had to build a ski anchor to rappel from. Ski anchors are notoriously sketchy to begin with, and to put the cherry atop this menacing sundae, we weren't even positive the East Face was filled in enough to ski. With half a dozen red flags glaring back at us, we swallowed our pride and opted for a conservative ski down the same face we ascended, scoring some hippie powder on the windswept ridge before traversing above a chute on the southeast ridge and popping into the lower East Face. When we looked up at our original plan, bailing was immediately validated. The East Face had avalanched recently, exposing the entire cliffband and filling the run-out with debris. Also, the school-bus sized cornice we suspected was definitely real, actively releasing wet snow and looked eager to separate from the mountain at moment's notice. We couldn't help but smile and exchange a few "Thank God's" as we scurried beneath the face to the foothills of Mount Bannon's southern ridge. [image] Looking back on the East Face of Fossil Mountain As we skinned towards Bannon the powerful, unobstructed sun unleashed it's fury. Within two hours we went from borderline frostbite to rolled up sleeves and baseball caps. Whilst certainly more comfortable, we also knew that warming to this degree could create dangerous avalanche conditions, especially with the new overnight snow. Because we were planning on skiing north for the remainder of the day, where surfaces see little sun and often remain cold, we didn't feel the need to abort ship just yet, but we were certainly on our toes. We reached the summit of 10,971 foot Mount Bannon after a relatively uneventful skin, but we weren't quick to linger. In similar fashion, our planned descent route was guarded by a nasty cornice, prompting us to once again take the tame route. We hop-turned our way through a slushy mess of solar snow on the NE Ridge before taking the first opportunity drop a safe line onto the lower portion of the North Face, scoring a few hundred feet of tremendous powder turns to the base of Mount Jedediah Smith. Looking back at a network of beautiful couloirs and ledges on the North Face, we were bummed to have left it behind, but also knew the mountain wasn't ready; we made the right choice. With the two crowning descents behind us, we savored a longer break and packed in some extra calories for the back half our day. [image] Carl doing his best radio tower impression. [image] Turn north for powder! Mount Jedediah Smith came and went with relative ease. The peak is more of a lump than an actual mountain, requiring only a few hundred feet of climbing from Bannon and a benign, moderately sloped ski on the north side. Ushered off the summit by a nasty wind surge, we battled a few hundred feet of wind scoured crust to the saddle between Jedediah and Meek, and immediately began making our way up our final climb of the day. While far from a behemoth, Mount Meek, standing tall at 10,686 feet, is deceptively larger than it's neighbor to the south. By the time the summit came into view, lactic acid was invading my legs and the piercing sun was making me dizzy. Carl didn't seem to have any trouble, but hey... I guess that's one of the perks of being a competitive nordic ski racer. He was already scouting our descent as I came up several minutes behind, tired and out of breath. From Meek I could see directly down Death Canyon to the flat-lands of Grand Teton National Park. Just north was the always impressive Grand Teton and to the west, my hometown, Victor, Idaho. To the south was Jedediah Smith, Bannon and Fossil, lined up perfectly like three ducks in a row, reflecting the first hues of late afternoon sun into my glasses. With my finger I could trace our path over all three, right to my skis on the final summit. I was overcome with a feeling of relief, accomplishment, and at the same time, the sobering realization that our adventure was far from over. By this point we'd decided conclusively on skiing Meek's North Couloir and exiting Teton Canyon. I knew roughly where the Teton Canyon parking lot was... and it wasn't close - not by a long shot. However, I had a plate full of powder to indulge in before worrying about any of the above! [image] The Big Four... well... three, from the fourth. Mount Bannon's north face looking particularly sexy. [image] Carl scoring the goods. [image] Maiden voyage complete for my trusty BD whippet! Post-ski high below the North Couloir on Mount Meek. The couloir was exactly as we'd imagined, steep, aesthetic and filled with phenomenal snow. I dropped first, skiing the line in one pull and scoring some of 2020's best turns. I pulled up below the cliffs to shoot pictures of Carl before following him out the apron and beginning our never-ending traverse along the Death Canyon Shelf, ultimately to Teton Canyon. Our post-powder highs quickly dissolved as we battled dangerously heavy snow on the Devil's Staircase, intentionally triggering a handful of wet slab avalanches to clear our path. Safely navigating to the bottom of Teton Canyon took much longer than expected, but you can't put a price on survival, so we took the delay in stride. The rest of our day involved a few miles of bushwhacking, one sketchy creek crossing, one moose encounter and 3.5 miles of cross-country skiing on the Teton Canyon road. As soon as we hit the groomed track I set Carl loose; I could tell he was anxious. When I finally reached the car around 8:00 PM, cramping feet and aching knees, he was stripped down to bare feet and sitting in the parking lot, grinning from ear to ear. The Big Four was ours, 17 hours and change, a record smashing tour for the both of us! A Spiritual Take: "Living is Victory" Diversions are part of the game in ski mountaineering, and a good mountaineer needs to be able to take them in stride. On Fossil and Bannon alike, our original objectives were barred with cornices and unsafe to descend. The first thought that flits through my mind in these situations is usually disappointment, closely followed by resistance and finally, often reluctantly, acceptance. Atop Fossil in particular, I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure a safe way onto the East Face, even though I knew we were best off leaving it behind. I let myself have these moments, so long as I see them for what they are and ultimately accept the option that brings me home safely. In the words of John Troillet, a famous french mountaineer, "living is victory." The phrase was coined during Jean and his team's 2008 attempt on the South Face of Nepal's Annapurna, where they spent over 50 days in base-camp, attempting to climb at least three times, only to return empty handed. I remind myself of Jean's words when deciding whether or not to take a risk in the mountains, and though much less dramatic, opting for the safe route down Fossil and Bannon was our way of accepting that "living is victory." To support Ten Thousand Too Far, consider a donation or subscribe below for new content! Type your email... Subscribe Join 49 other subscribers As always, a big thank you to my supporters and friends Icelantic Skis and Yostmark Mountain Equipment for all the gear, stoke and love! Check these guys out, they rock! Please return the duration below:

17-18 hours

Based on the text given below determine the snow conditions of the Big Four Traverse backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the snow conditions please return "unsure". The snow conditions should be one of the following options: powder, corn, ice, crust, wind scoured. Feel free to provide multiple values for the snow conditions. Here is the text: Human Powered "Big Four" Traverse (Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Jed. Smith, Meek) - Tetons West (April 2020) [image] [image] Pre-Sunrise view from the saddle of Darby Canyon's South Fork I first heard mention of the Big Four Traverse, albeit not by that name, five years ago while picking the brain of a veteran lift mechanic over morning coffee at Grand Targhee Resort. He spoke of the four remote, seldom skied and closely grouped peaks, Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek, with a certain mystique, as if I was really missing out by directing all my attention as an aspiring ski mountaineer to Grand Teton National Park. At the time I wasn't ready to listen, too starstruck by classic Teton lines to venture off the beaten path; but after a half-decade of chipping away a ski resume in Teton Valley, "unconventional" strikes a certain kind of appeal. The Big Four lied well dormant until I went on my first tour with Carl Osterberg this past winter. Carl, a nordic skier and overall endurance machine, stated his intent to ski all four peaks in a single day, that the route was "something the locals do" and it had a name, the "Big Four." After several more trips with Carl, a traverse of the Palisades Range and a noteworthy descent of the Targhee classic - Treasure Bowl - talks of the Big Four began to flourish again. The more I looked into the route, the more excited I became. Not only was it a substantial challenge, but all four peaks offered a variety of excellent ski terrain, skyline prominence and the opportunity to break new ground in a range I've skied hundreds of times. After many hours of trip report scouring, Google Earth mapping and drop-car shuttling, Carl and I found ourselves in Darby Canyon at 3:02 AM, skis on our backs, headed for Fossil Mountain. [image] The Route The Big Four as we know it, is any traverse that involves climbing Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek in a single day. To my knowledge this traverse is rarely fully human powered and often assisted by snowmobile; no machines for us though, we'd be walking from the get go. Actually, I've never heard of a single report trailhead-to-trailhead on foot. From the winter closure, five miles of snow covered road stands between the car and the summer Wind Cave trailhead. From the trailhead, approximately three miles of average grade climbing takes you through the South Fork of Darby Canyon to the col at the base of Fossil's south ridge. We chose Fossil first because we planned to ski the East Face, a steep and exposed, often cornice'd line, studded with cliffs and a prime candidate for solar influenced avalanche danger. Fossil is not one of those mountains you want to be on when the day warms up. From Fossil, we planned to follow the geological crest north, up and over Bannon, Jedediah Smith and Meek, all of which offer north facing skiing less susceptible to sun effect. From the summit of Meek, we planned to ski a beautiful but relatively short couloir to the Death Shelf, where we would either re-gain Meek via "The Wedge" and ski out the Main Fork of Darby Canyon, or descend the Devil's Staircase and exit the South Fork of Teton Canyon. Undoubtedly the fastest choice would have been to ski directly into the Main Fork from the summit of Meek, but would've meant bypassing potentially the best ski descent of the day, which we were not willing to do. We left a shuttle car at Teton Canyon to give us a variety of exit options, packed our bags with as many calories as possible and prepared for an estimated 10,000 feet of elevation gain over an approximate distance of 20-22 miles. [image] Alone in the woods The Big Four 3:02AM was by far the earliest I'd ever clicked into a pair of skis, and it wasn't long before I realized why it wasn't a popular start time. After a few hours of shuffling quietly along the snow covered access road, stopping every once and a while to cross a patch of dry land, Carl and I both admitted we weren't necessarily in top notch head space. Three hours of sleep and two cups of coffee can only get you so far, and I was really feeling it. Shadows danced between the trees and snapping branches stopped us in our tracks more than once. There was something eerie about being so deep in the wilderness, wandering around a thickly wooded canyon home to grizzly bears, mountain lions and moose in the middle of the night, aided only by a uni-directional beam of light. If Carl hadn't been with me I'm not sure I would've retained sanity. Queasy and sleep deprived we continued the slog past the summer trailhead and into the South Fork of Darby, where the woods only got deeper, denser and darker. The higher we climbed the colder the morning became, dropping from a modest thirty degrees to a bone chilling fifteen. We layered up as the first glimpses of morning light illuminated the surrounding cliffs and eventually the summit of Fossil. Standing like a guardian over the basin below, the rock wrapped west face of loomed with foreboding ferocity over the canyon below, the morning wind whisping clouds and spiraling snow off the summit. Seeing the mountain did little to boost our enthusiasm; it looked wicked up there, and we had still yet seen the sun. Carl struggled to stay warm as I took the lead, forging our path to the col and continuing up the south ridge. Much to our excitement, the ridge was windswept and looked perfect for a quick climb, with plenty of rocks for traction and very little new snow. With a mere 800 feet of prominence, Fossil is less of an individual peak and more of a humongous rock perched atop a long, long, long ridge, so by the time we switched to crampons 95 percent of the work was behind us. Quickly and efficiently we climbed a mix of firm snow and ice up the modest 35-40 degree face, topping out on the 10,916 foot summit somewhere in the vicinity of 10 o'clock. [image] View of Darby Canyon's South Fork in the early morning light. [image] Carl employing spiky things on the way up Fossil [image] No time to drop the camera bag. The summit of Fossil Mountain with the Grand Teton and friends in the background Just as we expected, the East Face of Fossil Mountain was guarded with a hulking bulge of overhanging snow, putting into question whether or not we could even access our planned ski line. We brought a light rando-rope and harnesses with the intention of belaying the first skier into the face, but with the rapid warming of morning sun our confidence in the cornice's strength waned. The summit was also void of rock, meaning we would've had to build a ski anchor to rappel from. Ski anchors are notoriously sketchy to begin with, and to put the cherry atop this menacing sundae, we weren't even positive the East Face was filled in enough to ski. With half a dozen red flags glaring back at us, we swallowed our pride and opted for a conservative ski down the same face we ascended, scoring some hippie powder on the windswept ridge before traversing above a chute on the southeast ridge and popping into the lower East Face. When we looked up at our original plan, bailing was immediately validated. The East Face had avalanched recently, exposing the entire cliffband and filling the run-out with debris. Also, the school-bus sized cornice we suspected was definitely real, actively releasing wet snow and looked eager to separate from the mountain at moment's notice. We couldn't help but smile and exchange a few "Thank God's" as we scurried beneath the face to the foothills of Mount Bannon's southern ridge. [image] Looking back on the East Face of Fossil Mountain As we skinned towards Bannon the powerful, unobstructed sun unleashed it's fury. Within two hours we went from borderline frostbite to rolled up sleeves and baseball caps. Whilst certainly more comfortable, we also knew that warming to this degree could create dangerous avalanche conditions, especially with the new overnight snow. Because we were planning on skiing north for the remainder of the day, where surfaces see little sun and often remain cold, we didn't feel the need to abort ship just yet, but we were certainly on our toes. We reached the summit of 10,971 foot Mount Bannon after a relatively uneventful skin, but we weren't quick to linger. In similar fashion, our planned descent route was guarded by a nasty cornice, prompting us to once again take the tame route. We hop-turned our way through a slushy mess of solar snow on the NE Ridge before taking the first opportunity drop a safe line onto the lower portion of the North Face, scoring a few hundred feet of tremendous powder turns to the base of Mount Jedediah Smith. Looking back at a network of beautiful couloirs and ledges on the North Face, we were bummed to have left it behind, but also knew the mountain wasn't ready; we made the right choice. With the two crowning descents behind us, we savored a longer break and packed in some extra calories for the back half our day. [image] Carl doing his best radio tower impression. [image] Turn north for powder! Mount Jedediah Smith came and went with relative ease. The peak is more of a lump than an actual mountain, requiring only a few hundred feet of climbing from Bannon and a benign, moderately sloped ski on the north side. Ushered off the summit by a nasty wind surge, we battled a few hundred feet of wind scoured crust to the saddle between Jedediah and Meek, and immediately began making our way up our final climb of the day. While far from a behemoth, Mount Meek, standing tall at 10,686 feet, is deceptively larger than it's neighbor to the south. By the time the summit came into view, lactic acid was invading my legs and the piercing sun was making me dizzy. Carl didn't seem to have any trouble, but hey... I guess that's one of the perks of being a competitive nordic ski racer. He was already scouting our descent as I came up several minutes behind, tired and out of breath. From Meek I could see directly down Death Canyon to the flat-lands of Grand Teton National Park. Just north was the always impressive Grand Teton and to the west, my hometown, Victor, Idaho. To the south was Jedediah Smith, Bannon and Fossil, lined up perfectly like three ducks in a row, reflecting the first hues of late afternoon sun into my glasses. With my finger I could trace our path over all three, right to my skis on the final summit. I was overcome with a feeling of relief, accomplishment, and at the same time, the sobering realization that our adventure was far from over. By this point we'd decided conclusively on skiing Meek's North Couloir and exiting Teton Canyon. I knew roughly where the Teton Canyon parking lot was... and it wasn't close - not by a long shot. However, I had a plate full of powder to indulge in before worrying about any of the above! [image] The Big Four... well... three, from the fourth. Mount Bannon's north face looking particularly sexy. [image] Carl scoring the goods. [image] Maiden voyage complete for my trusty BD whippet! Post-ski high below the North Couloir on Mount Meek. The couloir was exactly as we'd imagined, steep, aesthetic and filled with phenomenal snow. I dropped first, skiing the line in one pull and scoring some of 2020's best turns. I pulled up below the cliffs to shoot pictures of Carl before following him out the apron and beginning our never-ending traverse along the Death Canyon Shelf, ultimately to Teton Canyon. Our post-powder highs quickly dissolved as we battled dangerously heavy snow on the Devil's Staircase, intentionally triggering a handful of wet slab avalanches to clear our path. Safely navigating to the bottom of Teton Canyon took much longer than expected, but you can't put a price on survival, so we took the delay in stride. The rest of our day involved a few miles of bushwhacking, one sketchy creek crossing, one moose encounter and 3.5 miles of cross-country skiing on the Teton Canyon road. As soon as we hit the groomed track I set Carl loose; I could tell he was anxious. When I finally reached the car around 8:00 PM, cramping feet and aching knees, he was stripped down to bare feet and sitting in the parking lot, grinning from ear to ear. The Big Four was ours, 17 hours and change, a record smashing tour for the both of us! A Spiritual Take: "Living is Victory" Diversions are part of the game in ski mountaineering, and a good mountaineer needs to be able to take them in stride. On Fossil and Bannon alike, our original objectives were barred with cornices and unsafe to descend. The first thought that flits through my mind in these situations is usually disappointment, closely followed by resistance and finally, often reluctantly, acceptance. Atop Fossil in particular, I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure a safe way onto the East Face, even though I knew we were best off leaving it behind. I let myself have these moments, so long as I see them for what they are and ultimately accept the option that brings me home safely. In the words of John Troillet, a famous french mountaineer, "living is victory." The phrase was coined during Jean and his team's 2008 attempt on the South Face of Nepal's Annapurna, where they spent over 50 days in base-camp, attempting to climb at least three times, only to return empty handed. I remind myself of Jean's words when deciding whether or not to take a risk in the mountains, and though much less dramatic, opting for the safe route down Fossil and Bannon was our way of accepting that "living is victory." To support Ten Thousand Too Far, consider a donation or subscribe below for new content! Type your email... Subscribe Join 49 other subscribers As always, a big thank you to my supporters and friends Icelantic Skis and Yostmark Mountain Equipment for all the gear, stoke and love! Check these guys out, they rock! Please return the snow conditions below:

powder, wind scoured, corn

Based on the text given below determine the scenic rating of the Big Four Traverse backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the scenic rating please return "unsure". The scenic rating should be one of the following options: not scenic, somewhat scenic, very scenic. Here is the text: Human Powered "Big Four" Traverse (Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Jed. Smith, Meek) - Tetons West (April 2020) [image] [image] Pre-Sunrise view from the saddle of Darby Canyon's South Fork I first heard mention of the Big Four Traverse, albeit not by that name, five years ago while picking the brain of a veteran lift mechanic over morning coffee at Grand Targhee Resort. He spoke of the four remote, seldom skied and closely grouped peaks, Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek, with a certain mystique, as if I was really missing out by directing all my attention as an aspiring ski mountaineer to Grand Teton National Park. At the time I wasn't ready to listen, too starstruck by classic Teton lines to venture off the beaten path; but after a half-decade of chipping away a ski resume in Teton Valley, "unconventional" strikes a certain kind of appeal. The Big Four lied well dormant until I went on my first tour with Carl Osterberg this past winter. Carl, a nordic skier and overall endurance machine, stated his intent to ski all four peaks in a single day, that the route was "something the locals do" and it had a name, the "Big Four." After several more trips with Carl, a traverse of the Palisades Range and a noteworthy descent of the Targhee classic - Treasure Bowl - talks of the Big Four began to flourish again. The more I looked into the route, the more excited I became. Not only was it a substantial challenge, but all four peaks offered a variety of excellent ski terrain, skyline prominence and the opportunity to break new ground in a range I've skied hundreds of times. After many hours of trip report scouring, Google Earth mapping and drop-car shuttling, Carl and I found ourselves in Darby Canyon at 3:02 AM, skis on our backs, headed for Fossil Mountain. [image] The Route The Big Four as we know it, is any traverse that involves climbing Fossil Mountain, Mount Bannon, Mount Jedediah Smith and Mount Meek in a single day. To my knowledge this traverse is rarely fully human powered and often assisted by snowmobile; no machines for us though, we'd be walking from the get go. Actually, I've never heard of a single report trailhead-to-trailhead on foot. From the winter closure, five miles of snow covered road stands between the car and the summer Wind Cave trailhead. From the trailhead, approximately three miles of average grade climbing takes you through the South Fork of Darby Canyon to the col at the base of Fossil's south ridge. We chose Fossil first because we planned to ski the East Face, a steep and exposed, often cornice'd line, studded with cliffs and a prime candidate for solar influenced avalanche danger. Fossil is not one of those mountains you want to be on when the day warms up. From Fossil, we planned to follow the geological crest north, up and over Bannon, Jedediah Smith and Meek, all of which offer north facing skiing less susceptible to sun effect. From the summit of Meek, we planned to ski a beautiful but relatively short couloir to the Death Shelf, where we would either re-gain Meek via "The Wedge" and ski out the Main Fork of Darby Canyon, or descend the Devil's Staircase and exit the South Fork of Teton Canyon. Undoubtedly the fastest choice would have been to ski directly into the Main Fork from the summit of Meek, but would've meant bypassing potentially the best ski descent of the day, which we were not willing to do. We left a shuttle car at Teton Canyon to give us a variety of exit options, packed our bags with as many calories as possible and prepared for an estimated 10,000 feet of elevation gain over an approximate distance of 20-22 miles. [image] Alone in the woods The Big Four 3:02AM was by far the earliest I'd ever clicked into a pair of skis, and it wasn't long before I realized why it wasn't a popular start time. After a few hours of shuffling quietly along the snow covered access road, stopping every once and a while to cross a patch of dry land, Carl and I both admitted we weren't necessarily in top notch head space. Three hours of sleep and two cups of coffee can only get you so far, and I was really feeling it. Shadows danced between the trees and snapping branches stopped us in our tracks more than once. There was something eerie about being so deep in the wilderness, wandering around a thickly wooded canyon home to grizzly bears, mountain lions and moose in the middle of the night, aided only by a uni-directional beam of light. If Carl hadn't been with me I'm not sure I would've retained sanity. Queasy and sleep deprived we continued the slog past the summer trailhead and into the South Fork of Darby, where the woods only got deeper, denser and darker. The higher we climbed the colder the morning became, dropping from a modest thirty degrees to a bone chilling fifteen. We layered up as the first glimpses of morning light illuminated the surrounding cliffs and eventually the summit of Fossil. Standing like a guardian over the basin below, the rock wrapped west face of loomed with foreboding ferocity over the canyon below, the morning wind whisping clouds and spiraling snow off the summit. Seeing the mountain did little to boost our enthusiasm; it looked wicked up there, and we had still yet seen the sun. Carl struggled to stay warm as I took the lead, forging our path to the col and continuing up the south ridge. Much to our excitement, the ridge was windswept and looked perfect for a quick climb, with plenty of rocks for traction and very little new snow. With a mere 800 feet of prominence, Fossil is less of an individual peak and more of a humongous rock perched atop a long, long, long ridge, so by the time we switched to crampons 95 percent of the work was behind us. Quickly and efficiently we climbed a mix of firm snow and ice up the modest 35-40 degree face, topping out on the 10,916 foot summit somewhere in the vicinity of 10 o'clock. [image] View of Darby Canyon's South Fork in the early morning light. [image] Carl employing spiky things on the way up Fossil [image] No time to drop the camera bag. The summit of Fossil Mountain with the Grand Teton and friends in the background Just as we expected, the East Face of Fossil Mountain was guarded with a hulking bulge of overhanging snow, putting into question whether or not we could even access our planned ski line. We brought a light rando-rope and harnesses with the intention of belaying the first skier into the face, but with the rapid warming of morning sun our confidence in the cornice's strength waned. The summit was also void of rock, meaning we would've had to build a ski anchor to rappel from. Ski anchors are notoriously sketchy to begin with, and to put the cherry atop this menacing sundae, we weren't even positive the East Face was filled in enough to ski. With half a dozen red flags glaring back at us, we swallowed our pride and opted for a conservative ski down the same face we ascended, scoring some hippie powder on the windswept ridge before traversing above a chute on the southeast ridge and popping into the lower East Face. When we looked up at our original plan, bailing was immediately validated. The East Face had avalanched recently, exposing the entire cliffband and filling the run-out with debris. Also, the school-bus sized cornice we suspected was definitely real, actively releasing wet snow and looked eager to separate from the mountain at moment's notice. We couldn't help but smile and exchange a few "Thank God's" as we scurried beneath the face to the foothills of Mount Bannon's southern ridge. [image] Looking back on the East Face of Fossil Mountain As we skinned towards Bannon the powerful, unobstructed sun unleashed it's fury. Within two hours we went from borderline frostbite to rolled up sleeves and baseball caps. Whilst certainly more comfortable, we also knew that warming to this degree could create dangerous avalanche conditions, especially with the new overnight snow. Because we were planning on skiing north for the remainder of the day, where surfaces see little sun and often remain cold, we didn't feel the need to abort ship just yet, but we were certainly on our toes. We reached the summit of 10,971 foot Mount Bannon after a relatively uneventful skin, but we weren't quick to linger. In similar fashion, our planned descent route was guarded by a nasty cornice, prompting us to once again take the tame route. We hop-turned our way through a slushy mess of solar snow on the NE Ridge before taking the first opportunity drop a safe line onto the lower portion of the North Face, scoring a few hundred feet of tremendous powder turns to the base of Mount Jedediah Smith. Looking back at a network of beautiful couloirs and ledges on the North Face, we were bummed to have left it behind, but also knew the mountain wasn't ready; we made the right choice. With the two crowning descents behind us, we savored a longer break and packed in some extra calories for the back half our day. [image] Carl doing his best radio tower impression. [image] Turn north for powder! Mount Jedediah Smith came and went with relative ease. The peak is more of a lump than an actual mountain, requiring only a few hundred feet of climbing from Bannon and a benign, moderately sloped ski on the north side. Ushered off the summit by a nasty wind surge, we battled a few hundred feet of wind scoured crust to the saddle between Jedediah and Meek, and immediately began making our way up our final climb of the day. While far from a behemoth, Mount Meek, standing tall at 10,686 feet, is deceptively larger than it's neighbor to the south. By the time the summit came into view, lactic acid was invading my legs and the piercing sun was making me dizzy. Carl didn't seem to have any trouble, but hey... I guess that's one of the perks of being a competitive nordic ski racer. He was already scouting our descent as I came up several minutes behind, tired and out of breath. From Meek I could see directly down Death Canyon to the flat-lands of Grand Teton National Park. Just north was the always impressive Grand Teton and to the west, my hometown, Victor, Idaho. To the south was Jedediah Smith, Bannon and Fossil, lined up perfectly like three ducks in a row, reflecting the first hues of late afternoon sun into my glasses. With my finger I could trace our path over all three, right to my skis on the final summit. I was overcome with a feeling of relief, accomplishment, and at the same time, the sobering realization that our adventure was far from over. By this point we'd decided conclusively on skiing Meek's North Couloir and exiting Teton Canyon. I knew roughly where the Teton Canyon parking lot was... and it wasn't close - not by a long shot. However, I had a plate full of powder to indulge in before worrying about any of the above! [image] The Big Four... well... three, from the fourth. Mount Bannon's north face looking particularly sexy. [image] Carl scoring the goods. [image] Maiden voyage complete for my trusty BD whippet! Post-ski high below the North Couloir on Mount Meek. The couloir was exactly as we'd imagined, steep, aesthetic and filled with phenomenal snow. I dropped first, skiing the line in one pull and scoring some of 2020's best turns. I pulled up below the cliffs to shoot pictures of Carl before following him out the apron and beginning our never-ending traverse along the Death Canyon Shelf, ultimately to Teton Canyon. Our post-powder highs quickly dissolved as we battled dangerously heavy snow on the Devil's Staircase, intentionally triggering a handful of wet slab avalanches to clear our path. Safely navigating to the bottom of Teton Canyon took much longer than expected, but you can't put a price on survival, so we took the delay in stride. The rest of our day involved a few miles of bushwhacking, one sketchy creek crossing, one moose encounter and 3.5 miles of cross-country skiing on the Teton Canyon road. As soon as we hit the groomed track I set Carl loose; I could tell he was anxious. When I finally reached the car around 8:00 PM, cramping feet and aching knees, he was stripped down to bare feet and sitting in the parking lot, grinning from ear to ear. The Big Four was ours, 17 hours and change, a record smashing tour for the both of us! A Spiritual Take: "Living is Victory" Diversions are part of the game in ski mountaineering, and a good mountaineer needs to be able to take them in stride. On Fossil and Bannon alike, our original objectives were barred with cornices and unsafe to descend. The first thought that flits through my mind in these situations is usually disappointment, closely followed by resistance and finally, often reluctantly, acceptance. Atop Fossil in particular, I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure a safe way onto the East Face, even though I knew we were best off leaving it behind. I let myself have these moments, so long as I see them for what they are and ultimately accept the option that brings me home safely. In the words of John Troillet, a famous french mountaineer, "living is victory." The phrase was coined during Jean and his team's 2008 attempt on the South Face of Nepal's Annapurna, where they spent over 50 days in base-camp, attempting to climb at least three times, only to return empty handed. I remind myself of Jean's words when deciding whether or not to take a risk in the mountains, and though much less dramatic, opting for the safe route down Fossil and Bannon was our way of accepting that "living is victory." To support Ten Thousand Too Far, consider a donation or subscribe below for new content! Type your email... Subscribe Join 49 other subscribers As always, a big thank you to my supporters and friends Icelantic Skis and Yostmark Mountain Equipment for all the gear, stoke and love! Check these guys out, they rock! Please return the scenic rating below:

very scenic

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the difficulty of the V-Notch Couloir backcountry skiing route. The difficulty should be one of the following options: easy, moderate, hard, extreme. Feel free to infer the difficulty, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: V-Notch Couloir A steep NE facing couloir on Prospectors Mountain. The top is a rocky chokepoint that will block you if you're climbing up and require a rappel if you're coming from the top. Avalanche danger in this zone is extreme. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Granite Canyon Trailhead The Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Death Canyon Junction The Northern Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Trip Reports 03/28/2015 - (Andy Sherpa Blog) 02/14/2015 - (Noah Howell Near-Life Experiences) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Grand Teton National Park, Teton Range Please return the difficulty below:

extreme

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the avalanche danger of the V-Notch Couloir backcountry skiing route. The avalanche danger should be one of the following options: low, moderate, considerable, high, extreme. Feel free to infer the avalanche danger, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: V-Notch Couloir A steep NE facing couloir on Prospectors Mountain. The top is a rocky chokepoint that will block you if you're climbing up and require a rappel if you're coming from the top. Avalanche danger in this zone is extreme. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Granite Canyon Trailhead The Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Death Canyon Junction The Northern Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Trip Reports 03/28/2015 - (Andy Sherpa Blog) 02/14/2015 - (Noah Howell Near-Life Experiences) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Grand Teton National Park, Teton Range Please return the avalanche danger below:

extreme

Based on the text given below determine the terrain type of the V-Notch Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the terrain type please return "unsure". The terrain type should be one of the following options: couloir, bowl, face, ridge, chute, traverse, trees, glacier. Feel free to provide multiple values for the terrain type. Here is the text: V-Notch Couloir A steep NE facing couloir on Prospectors Mountain. The top is a rocky chokepoint that will block you if you're climbing up and require a rappel if you're coming from the top. Avalanche danger in this zone is extreme. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Granite Canyon Trailhead The Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Death Canyon Junction The Northern Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Trip Reports 03/28/2015 - (Andy Sherpa Blog) 02/14/2015 - (Noah Howell Near-Life Experiences) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Grand Teton National Park, Teton Range Please return the terrain type below:

couloir

Based on the text given below determine the trailhead of the V-Notch Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the trailhead please return "unsure". Feel free to provide multiple values for the trailhead. Here is the text: V-Notch Couloir A steep NE facing couloir on Prospectors Mountain. The top is a rocky chokepoint that will block you if you're climbing up and require a rappel if you're coming from the top. Avalanche danger in this zone is extreme. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Granite Canyon Trailhead The Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Death Canyon Junction The Northern Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Trip Reports 03/28/2015 - (Andy Sherpa Blog) 02/14/2015 - (Noah Howell Near-Life Experiences) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Grand Teton National Park, Teton Range Please return the trailhead below:

Granite Canyon, Death Canyon

Based on the text given below determine the popularity of the V-Notch Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the popularity please return "unsure". The popularity should be one of the following options: not popular, somewhat popular, very popular. Here is the text: V-Notch Couloir A steep NE facing couloir on Prospectors Mountain. The top is a rocky chokepoint that will block you if you're climbing up and require a rappel if you're coming from the top. Avalanche danger in this zone is extreme. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Granite Canyon Trailhead The Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Death Canyon Junction The Northern Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Trip Reports 03/28/2015 - (Andy Sherpa Blog) 02/14/2015 - (Noah Howell Near-Life Experiences) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Grand Teton National Park, Teton Range Please return the popularity below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the duration of the V-Notch Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the duration please return "unsure". The duration should be a number with units of hours. Here is the text: V-Notch Couloir A steep NE facing couloir on Prospectors Mountain. The top is a rocky chokepoint that will block you if you're climbing up and require a rappel if you're coming from the top. Avalanche danger in this zone is extreme. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Granite Canyon Trailhead The Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Death Canyon Junction The Northern Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Trip Reports 03/28/2015 - (Andy Sherpa Blog) 02/14/2015 - (Noah Howell Near-Life Experiences) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Grand Teton National Park, Teton Range Please return the duration below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the snow conditions of the V-Notch Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the snow conditions please return "unsure". The snow conditions should be one of the following options: powder, corn, ice, crust, wind scoured. Feel free to provide multiple values for the snow conditions. Here is the text: V-Notch Couloir A steep NE facing couloir on Prospectors Mountain. The top is a rocky chokepoint that will block you if you're climbing up and require a rappel if you're coming from the top. Avalanche danger in this zone is extreme. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Granite Canyon Trailhead The Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Death Canyon Junction The Northern Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Trip Reports 03/28/2015 - (Andy Sherpa Blog) 02/14/2015 - (Noah Howell Near-Life Experiences) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Grand Teton National Park, Teton Range Please return the snow conditions below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the scenic rating of the V-Notch Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the scenic rating please return "unsure". The scenic rating should be one of the following options: not scenic, somewhat scenic, very scenic. Here is the text: V-Notch Couloir A steep NE facing couloir on Prospectors Mountain. The top is a rocky chokepoint that will block you if you're climbing up and require a rappel if you're coming from the top. Avalanche danger in this zone is extreme. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trailheads Granite Canyon Trailhead The Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Death Canyon Junction The Northern Winter closure of Moose-Wilson Rd Trip Reports 03/28/2015 - (Andy Sherpa Blog) 02/14/2015 - (Noah Howell Near-Life Experiences) Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Grand Teton National Park, Teton Range Please return the scenic rating below:

unsure

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the difficulty of the Northwest Passage backcountry skiing route. The difficulty should be one of the following options: easy, moderate, hard, extreme. Feel free to infer the difficulty, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: Guest TR: Is This Triple A?, By Mark Fellermann By: randosteve| Posted on: December 4, 2008 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People, Random Teton Posts, The Tetons | 10 comments [image] Dan carving calculated turns down the half-pipe. The voice came from above. It wasn't God. "Are you guys OK?" Dan was pounding a piton into a seam and I was flaking the ropes. We looked quizzically at each other, and then up at the couple poised on the edge of the natural half-pipe. We both began to snicker. The humor of the situation swelled deep inside. We confirmed that we were fine. "Is this Triple A?" We cracked and began openly laughing. Unfortunately for them, it was not AAA and we relayed that information to them. Dan asked if they had harnesses in their packs. The misguided duo didn't and I'm not sure what would have happened if they had. We knew their pickle precisely, for we had booted out of this location while on a recon mission a few days earlier. On that day, Dan and I made our way up and over into the depths of the Northwest Passage. Their disappointment would only be matched by the difficulty of putting a boot-pack in the fresh snow to a friendlier location...hopefully to AAA. We informed them that the only way out was up and returned to the task at hand. The mood was much lighter after this encounter, chasing away some of the jitters as we set what would be the first rappel. [image] The rappelling section of the line as seen from near Granite Creek. Dan Petrus and I were not just packing ropes and seeing what kind of trouble we could get into. We had noticed a chimney system in the cleft of rock known as the Northwest Passage (Granite Canyon, Grand Teton National Park) and planned to take advantage of the rock's weakness. [image] [image]Somewhere between the NW Passage and AAA lies a steep entrance. Beyond which, a few more turns brought us to a downed tree that acted as a gate to a unique clearing. On the left side of this clearing was a natural half-pipe that funnels into what I, much to my mother's chagrin, term "Death Air". The snow was a couple days old, shin deep and stable. We skirted by the log sentry toward the half pipe making precise pow turns up and down the drain. At the bottom of the funnel, we peeled out to the right where some exposed rock afforded a good anchor location. Dan, with a small interruption from our visitors, equalized a very good piton placement and a brassy with some cord. Going on rappel, Dan and I showed all those ladies out there that we don't have commitment issues. After descending over a huge chock-stone that created a deep cave, it became apparent that this would not be the rappel, but rather...the first rappel. Below the cave, a hanging snowfield stretched out to a snow-schroomed aerie. I could easily imagine a Yeti living in the cave and tossing the bones of wayward skiers out onto the snowfield and down the chimney. [image] "Death Air" does not exist when a rope is properly employed. The second anchor was a near-perfect horizontal piton placement backed up by what honestly wasn't much more than a shrubbery; albeit a solid pine variety. We, of course, had hoped that this would put us squarely on the canyon floor, but instead we ended up perched on a snowy shelf in a five foot wide chimney without enough rope to deck. The mood had shifted to a more serious tone as we began clearing the sugar-snow in order to expose the rock, knowing full well that a bollard was out of the question in this kind of snow and in such a tight area. There were no usable cracks, but we did find what would be our crystal ticket to terra-firma. The four-inch diameter ice pillar that revealed itself was more transparent than some of the lead-glass windows in my parent's Victorian farmhouse. Serendipity. [image] The ice pillar anchor. We inspected the connection points of the shaft that spanned a little over a foot and were unable to break the ice chunk free. A lot of questions floated around, without any answers to keep them company as we threaded the ropes. We each took hold of the strands and shock loaded our icy friend as best we could, without risking a ground fall if it failed. I was immediately convinced. Dan was not as sure and I said, "It's good", with a reassuring smile. I knew that he was going first, which, I am ashamed to admit, may have influenced my thoughts.[image] Keep in mind that I would also be in quite a quandary if it blew. Dan locked in and tentatively lowered himself down the shaft. A cloudburst of obscenities filled the air as the ropes went taut. I was unable to see from my vantage point, but a coffin sized sugar-cube broke loose, violently adding its weight to the system before Dan could shake it down to the snow apron below. The pillar held and I followed without incident. [image] Sweet turns to Granite Creek. Once we were both safely down, we pulled the ropes from the most amazing anchor I have ever seen and enjoyed making turns in a seldom skied pocket down to Granite Creek. After stashing our gear for the granite shuffle, we exited as if it were just another stroll in the park. Please return the difficulty below:

extreme

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the avalanche danger of the Northwest Passage backcountry skiing route. The avalanche danger should be one of the following options: low, moderate, considerable, high, extreme. Feel free to infer the avalanche danger, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: Guest TR: Is This Triple A?, By Mark Fellermann By: randosteve| Posted on: December 4, 2008 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People, Random Teton Posts, The Tetons | 10 comments [image] Dan carving calculated turns down the half-pipe. The voice came from above. It wasn't God. "Are you guys OK?" Dan was pounding a piton into a seam and I was flaking the ropes. We looked quizzically at each other, and then up at the couple poised on the edge of the natural half-pipe. We both began to snicker. The humor of the situation swelled deep inside. We confirmed that we were fine. "Is this Triple A?" We cracked and began openly laughing. Unfortunately for them, it was not AAA and we relayed that information to them. Dan asked if they had harnesses in their packs. The misguided duo didn't and I'm not sure what would have happened if they had. We knew their pickle precisely, for we had booted out of this location while on a recon mission a few days earlier. On that day, Dan and I made our way up and over into the depths of the Northwest Passage. Their disappointment would only be matched by the difficulty of putting a boot-pack in the fresh snow to a friendlier location...hopefully to AAA. We informed them that the only way out was up and returned to the task at hand. The mood was much lighter after this encounter, chasing away some of the jitters as we set what would be the first rappel. [image] The rappelling section of the line as seen from near Granite Creek. Dan Petrus and I were not just packing ropes and seeing what kind of trouble we could get into. We had noticed a chimney system in the cleft of rock known as the Northwest Passage (Granite Canyon, Grand Teton National Park) and planned to take advantage of the rock's weakness. [image] [image]Somewhere between the NW Passage and AAA lies a steep entrance. Beyond which, a few more turns brought us to a downed tree that acted as a gate to a unique clearing. On the left side of this clearing was a natural half-pipe that funnels into what I, much to my mother's chagrin, term "Death Air". The snow was a couple days old, shin deep and stable. We skirted by the log sentry toward the half pipe making precise pow turns up and down the drain. At the bottom of the funnel, we peeled out to the right where some exposed rock afforded a good anchor location. Dan, with a small interruption from our visitors, equalized a very good piton placement and a brassy with some cord. Going on rappel, Dan and I showed all those ladies out there that we don't have commitment issues. After descending over a huge chock-stone that created a deep cave, it became apparent that this would not be the rappel, but rather...the first rappel. Below the cave, a hanging snowfield stretched out to a snow-schroomed aerie. I could easily imagine a Yeti living in the cave and tossing the bones of wayward skiers out onto the snowfield and down the chimney. [image] "Death Air" does not exist when a rope is properly employed. The second anchor was a near-perfect horizontal piton placement backed up by what honestly wasn't much more than a shrubbery; albeit a solid pine variety. We, of course, had hoped that this would put us squarely on the canyon floor, but instead we ended up perched on a snowy shelf in a five foot wide chimney without enough rope to deck. The mood had shifted to a more serious tone as we began clearing the sugar-snow in order to expose the rock, knowing full well that a bollard was out of the question in this kind of snow and in such a tight area. There were no usable cracks, but we did find what would be our crystal ticket to terra-firma. The four-inch diameter ice pillar that revealed itself was more transparent than some of the lead-glass windows in my parent's Victorian farmhouse. Serendipity. [image] The ice pillar anchor. We inspected the connection points of the shaft that spanned a little over a foot and were unable to break the ice chunk free. A lot of questions floated around, without any answers to keep them company as we threaded the ropes. We each took hold of the strands and shock loaded our icy friend as best we could, without risking a ground fall if it failed. I was immediately convinced. Dan was not as sure and I said, "It's good", with a reassuring smile. I knew that he was going first, which, I am ashamed to admit, may have influenced my thoughts.[image] Keep in mind that I would also be in quite a quandary if it blew. Dan locked in and tentatively lowered himself down the shaft. A cloudburst of obscenities filled the air as the ropes went taut. I was unable to see from my vantage point, but a coffin sized sugar-cube broke loose, violently adding its weight to the system before Dan could shake it down to the snow apron below. The pillar held and I followed without incident. [image] Sweet turns to Granite Creek. Once we were both safely down, we pulled the ropes from the most amazing anchor I have ever seen and enjoyed making turns in a seldom skied pocket down to Granite Creek. After stashing our gear for the granite shuffle, we exited as if it were just another stroll in the park. Please return the avalanche danger below:

extreme

Based on the text given below determine the terrain type of the Northwest Passage backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the terrain type please return "unsure". The terrain type should be one of the following options: couloir, bowl, face, ridge, chute, traverse, trees, glacier. Feel free to provide multiple values for the terrain type. Here is the text: Guest TR: Is This Triple A?, By Mark Fellermann By: randosteve| Posted on: December 4, 2008 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People, Random Teton Posts, The Tetons | 10 comments [image] Dan carving calculated turns down the half-pipe. The voice came from above. It wasn't God. "Are you guys OK?" Dan was pounding a piton into a seam and I was flaking the ropes. We looked quizzically at each other, and then up at the couple poised on the edge of the natural half-pipe. We both began to snicker. The humor of the situation swelled deep inside. We confirmed that we were fine. "Is this Triple A?" We cracked and began openly laughing. Unfortunately for them, it was not AAA and we relayed that information to them. Dan asked if they had harnesses in their packs. The misguided duo didn't and I'm not sure what would have happened if they had. We knew their pickle precisely, for we had booted out of this location while on a recon mission a few days earlier. On that day, Dan and I made our way up and over into the depths of the Northwest Passage. Their disappointment would only be matched by the difficulty of putting a boot-pack in the fresh snow to a friendlier location...hopefully to AAA. We informed them that the only way out was up and returned to the task at hand. The mood was much lighter after this encounter, chasing away some of the jitters as we set what would be the first rappel. [image] The rappelling section of the line as seen from near Granite Creek. Dan Petrus and I were not just packing ropes and seeing what kind of trouble we could get into. We had noticed a chimney system in the cleft of rock known as the Northwest Passage (Granite Canyon, Grand Teton National Park) and planned to take advantage of the rock's weakness. [image] [image]Somewhere between the NW Passage and AAA lies a steep entrance. Beyond which, a few more turns brought us to a downed tree that acted as a gate to a unique clearing. On the left side of this clearing was a natural half-pipe that funnels into what I, much to my mother's chagrin, term "Death Air". The snow was a couple days old, shin deep and stable. We skirted by the log sentry toward the half pipe making precise pow turns up and down the drain. At the bottom of the funnel, we peeled out to the right where some exposed rock afforded a good anchor location. Dan, with a small interruption from our visitors, equalized a very good piton placement and a brassy with some cord. Going on rappel, Dan and I showed all those ladies out there that we don't have commitment issues. After descending over a huge chock-stone that created a deep cave, it became apparent that this would not be the rappel, but rather...the first rappel. Below the cave, a hanging snowfield stretched out to a snow-schroomed aerie. I could easily imagine a Yeti living in the cave and tossing the bones of wayward skiers out onto the snowfield and down the chimney. [image] "Death Air" does not exist when a rope is properly employed. The second anchor was a near-perfect horizontal piton placement backed up by what honestly wasn't much more than a shrubbery; albeit a solid pine variety. We, of course, had hoped that this would put us squarely on the canyon floor, but instead we ended up perched on a snowy shelf in a five foot wide chimney without enough rope to deck. The mood had shifted to a more serious tone as we began clearing the sugar-snow in order to expose the rock, knowing full well that a bollard was out of the question in this kind of snow and in such a tight area. There were no usable cracks, but we did find what would be our crystal ticket to terra-firma. The four-inch diameter ice pillar that revealed itself was more transparent than some of the lead-glass windows in my parent's Victorian farmhouse. Serendipity. [image] The ice pillar anchor. We inspected the connection points of the shaft that spanned a little over a foot and were unable to break the ice chunk free. A lot of questions floated around, without any answers to keep them company as we threaded the ropes. We each took hold of the strands and shock loaded our icy friend as best we could, without risking a ground fall if it failed. I was immediately convinced. Dan was not as sure and I said, "It's good", with a reassuring smile. I knew that he was going first, which, I am ashamed to admit, may have influenced my thoughts.[image] Keep in mind that I would also be in quite a quandary if it blew. Dan locked in and tentatively lowered himself down the shaft. A cloudburst of obscenities filled the air as the ropes went taut. I was unable to see from my vantage point, but a coffin sized sugar-cube broke loose, violently adding its weight to the system before Dan could shake it down to the snow apron below. The pillar held and I followed without incident. [image] Sweet turns to Granite Creek. Once we were both safely down, we pulled the ropes from the most amazing anchor I have ever seen and enjoyed making turns in a seldom skied pocket down to Granite Creek. After stashing our gear for the granite shuffle, we exited as if it were just another stroll in the park. Please return the terrain type below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the trailhead of the Northwest Passage backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the trailhead please return "unsure". Feel free to provide multiple values for the trailhead. Here is the text: Guest TR: Is This Triple A?, By Mark Fellermann By: randosteve| Posted on: December 4, 2008 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People, Random Teton Posts, The Tetons | 10 comments [image] Dan carving calculated turns down the half-pipe. The voice came from above. It wasn't God. "Are you guys OK?" Dan was pounding a piton into a seam and I was flaking the ropes. We looked quizzically at each other, and then up at the couple poised on the edge of the natural half-pipe. We both began to snicker. The humor of the situation swelled deep inside. We confirmed that we were fine. "Is this Triple A?" We cracked and began openly laughing. Unfortunately for them, it was not AAA and we relayed that information to them. Dan asked if they had harnesses in their packs. The misguided duo didn't and I'm not sure what would have happened if they had. We knew their pickle precisely, for we had booted out of this location while on a recon mission a few days earlier. On that day, Dan and I made our way up and over into the depths of the Northwest Passage. Their disappointment would only be matched by the difficulty of putting a boot-pack in the fresh snow to a friendlier location...hopefully to AAA. We informed them that the only way out was up and returned to the task at hand. The mood was much lighter after this encounter, chasing away some of the jitters as we set what would be the first rappel. [image] The rappelling section of the line as seen from near Granite Creek. Dan Petrus and I were not just packing ropes and seeing what kind of trouble we could get into. We had noticed a chimney system in the cleft of rock known as the Northwest Passage (Granite Canyon, Grand Teton National Park) and planned to take advantage of the rock's weakness. [image] [image]Somewhere between the NW Passage and AAA lies a steep entrance. Beyond which, a few more turns brought us to a downed tree that acted as a gate to a unique clearing. On the left side of this clearing was a natural half-pipe that funnels into what I, much to my mother's chagrin, term "Death Air". The snow was a couple days old, shin deep and stable. We skirted by the log sentry toward the half pipe making precise pow turns up and down the drain. At the bottom of the funnel, we peeled out to the right where some exposed rock afforded a good anchor location. Dan, with a small interruption from our visitors, equalized a very good piton placement and a brassy with some cord. Going on rappel, Dan and I showed all those ladies out there that we don't have commitment issues. After descending over a huge chock-stone that created a deep cave, it became apparent that this would not be the rappel, but rather...the first rappel. Below the cave, a hanging snowfield stretched out to a snow-schroomed aerie. I could easily imagine a Yeti living in the cave and tossing the bones of wayward skiers out onto the snowfield and down the chimney. [image] "Death Air" does not exist when a rope is properly employed. The second anchor was a near-perfect horizontal piton placement backed up by what honestly wasn't much more than a shrubbery; albeit a solid pine variety. We, of course, had hoped that this would put us squarely on the canyon floor, but instead we ended up perched on a snowy shelf in a five foot wide chimney without enough rope to deck. The mood had shifted to a more serious tone as we began clearing the sugar-snow in order to expose the rock, knowing full well that a bollard was out of the question in this kind of snow and in such a tight area. There were no usable cracks, but we did find what would be our crystal ticket to terra-firma. The four-inch diameter ice pillar that revealed itself was more transparent than some of the lead-glass windows in my parent's Victorian farmhouse. Serendipity. [image] The ice pillar anchor. We inspected the connection points of the shaft that spanned a little over a foot and were unable to break the ice chunk free. A lot of questions floated around, without any answers to keep them company as we threaded the ropes. We each took hold of the strands and shock loaded our icy friend as best we could, without risking a ground fall if it failed. I was immediately convinced. Dan was not as sure and I said, "It's good", with a reassuring smile. I knew that he was going first, which, I am ashamed to admit, may have influenced my thoughts.[image] Keep in mind that I would also be in quite a quandary if it blew. Dan locked in and tentatively lowered himself down the shaft. A cloudburst of obscenities filled the air as the ropes went taut. I was unable to see from my vantage point, but a coffin sized sugar-cube broke loose, violently adding its weight to the system before Dan could shake it down to the snow apron below. The pillar held and I followed without incident. [image] Sweet turns to Granite Creek. Once we were both safely down, we pulled the ropes from the most amazing anchor I have ever seen and enjoyed making turns in a seldom skied pocket down to Granite Creek. After stashing our gear for the granite shuffle, we exited as if it were just another stroll in the park. Please return the trailhead below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the popularity of the Northwest Passage backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the popularity please return "unsure". The popularity should be one of the following options: not popular, somewhat popular, very popular. Here is the text: Guest TR: Is This Triple A?, By Mark Fellermann By: randosteve| Posted on: December 4, 2008 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People, Random Teton Posts, The Tetons | 10 comments [image] Dan carving calculated turns down the half-pipe. The voice came from above. It wasn't God. "Are you guys OK?" Dan was pounding a piton into a seam and I was flaking the ropes. We looked quizzically at each other, and then up at the couple poised on the edge of the natural half-pipe. We both began to snicker. The humor of the situation swelled deep inside. We confirmed that we were fine. "Is this Triple A?" We cracked and began openly laughing. Unfortunately for them, it was not AAA and we relayed that information to them. Dan asked if they had harnesses in their packs. The misguided duo didn't and I'm not sure what would have happened if they had. We knew their pickle precisely, for we had booted out of this location while on a recon mission a few days earlier. On that day, Dan and I made our way up and over into the depths of the Northwest Passage. Their disappointment would only be matched by the difficulty of putting a boot-pack in the fresh snow to a friendlier location...hopefully to AAA. We informed them that the only way out was up and returned to the task at hand. The mood was much lighter after this encounter, chasing away some of the jitters as we set what would be the first rappel. [image] The rappelling section of the line as seen from near Granite Creek. Dan Petrus and I were not just packing ropes and seeing what kind of trouble we could get into. We had noticed a chimney system in the cleft of rock known as the Northwest Passage (Granite Canyon, Grand Teton National Park) and planned to take advantage of the rock's weakness. [image] [image]Somewhere between the NW Passage and AAA lies a steep entrance. Beyond which, a few more turns brought us to a downed tree that acted as a gate to a unique clearing. On the left side of this clearing was a natural half-pipe that funnels into what I, much to my mother's chagrin, term "Death Air". The snow was a couple days old, shin deep and stable. We skirted by the log sentry toward the half pipe making precise pow turns up and down the drain. At the bottom of the funnel, we peeled out to the right where some exposed rock afforded a good anchor location. Dan, with a small interruption from our visitors, equalized a very good piton placement and a brassy with some cord. Going on rappel, Dan and I showed all those ladies out there that we don't have commitment issues. After descending over a huge chock-stone that created a deep cave, it became apparent that this would not be the rappel, but rather...the first rappel. Below the cave, a hanging snowfield stretched out to a snow-schroomed aerie. I could easily imagine a Yeti living in the cave and tossing the bones of wayward skiers out onto the snowfield and down the chimney. [image] "Death Air" does not exist when a rope is properly employed. The second anchor was a near-perfect horizontal piton placement backed up by what honestly wasn't much more than a shrubbery; albeit a solid pine variety. We, of course, had hoped that this would put us squarely on the canyon floor, but instead we ended up perched on a snowy shelf in a five foot wide chimney without enough rope to deck. The mood had shifted to a more serious tone as we began clearing the sugar-snow in order to expose the rock, knowing full well that a bollard was out of the question in this kind of snow and in such a tight area. There were no usable cracks, but we did find what would be our crystal ticket to terra-firma. The four-inch diameter ice pillar that revealed itself was more transparent than some of the lead-glass windows in my parent's Victorian farmhouse. Serendipity. [image] The ice pillar anchor. We inspected the connection points of the shaft that spanned a little over a foot and were unable to break the ice chunk free. A lot of questions floated around, without any answers to keep them company as we threaded the ropes. We each took hold of the strands and shock loaded our icy friend as best we could, without risking a ground fall if it failed. I was immediately convinced. Dan was not as sure and I said, "It's good", with a reassuring smile. I knew that he was going first, which, I am ashamed to admit, may have influenced my thoughts.[image] Keep in mind that I would also be in quite a quandary if it blew. Dan locked in and tentatively lowered himself down the shaft. A cloudburst of obscenities filled the air as the ropes went taut. I was unable to see from my vantage point, but a coffin sized sugar-cube broke loose, violently adding its weight to the system before Dan could shake it down to the snow apron below. The pillar held and I followed without incident. [image] Sweet turns to Granite Creek. Once we were both safely down, we pulled the ropes from the most amazing anchor I have ever seen and enjoyed making turns in a seldom skied pocket down to Granite Creek. After stashing our gear for the granite shuffle, we exited as if it were just another stroll in the park. Please return the popularity below:

not popular

Based on the text given below determine the duration of the Northwest Passage backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the duration please return "unsure". The duration should be a number with units of hours. Here is the text: Guest TR: Is This Triple A?, By Mark Fellermann By: randosteve| Posted on: December 4, 2008 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People, Random Teton Posts, The Tetons | 10 comments [image] Dan carving calculated turns down the half-pipe. The voice came from above. It wasn't God. "Are you guys OK?" Dan was pounding a piton into a seam and I was flaking the ropes. We looked quizzically at each other, and then up at the couple poised on the edge of the natural half-pipe. We both began to snicker. The humor of the situation swelled deep inside. We confirmed that we were fine. "Is this Triple A?" We cracked and began openly laughing. Unfortunately for them, it was not AAA and we relayed that information to them. Dan asked if they had harnesses in their packs. The misguided duo didn't and I'm not sure what would have happened if they had. We knew their pickle precisely, for we had booted out of this location while on a recon mission a few days earlier. On that day, Dan and I made our way up and over into the depths of the Northwest Passage. Their disappointment would only be matched by the difficulty of putting a boot-pack in the fresh snow to a friendlier location...hopefully to AAA. We informed them that the only way out was up and returned to the task at hand. The mood was much lighter after this encounter, chasing away some of the jitters as we set what would be the first rappel. [image] The rappelling section of the line as seen from near Granite Creek. Dan Petrus and I were not just packing ropes and seeing what kind of trouble we could get into. We had noticed a chimney system in the cleft of rock known as the Northwest Passage (Granite Canyon, Grand Teton National Park) and planned to take advantage of the rock's weakness. [image] [image]Somewhere between the NW Passage and AAA lies a steep entrance. Beyond which, a few more turns brought us to a downed tree that acted as a gate to a unique clearing. On the left side of this clearing was a natural half-pipe that funnels into what I, much to my mother's chagrin, term "Death Air". The snow was a couple days old, shin deep and stable. We skirted by the log sentry toward the half pipe making precise pow turns up and down the drain. At the bottom of the funnel, we peeled out to the right where some exposed rock afforded a good anchor location. Dan, with a small interruption from our visitors, equalized a very good piton placement and a brassy with some cord. Going on rappel, Dan and I showed all those ladies out there that we don't have commitment issues. After descending over a huge chock-stone that created a deep cave, it became apparent that this would not be the rappel, but rather...the first rappel. Below the cave, a hanging snowfield stretched out to a snow-schroomed aerie. I could easily imagine a Yeti living in the cave and tossing the bones of wayward skiers out onto the snowfield and down the chimney. [image] "Death Air" does not exist when a rope is properly employed. The second anchor was a near-perfect horizontal piton placement backed up by what honestly wasn't much more than a shrubbery; albeit a solid pine variety. We, of course, had hoped that this would put us squarely on the canyon floor, but instead we ended up perched on a snowy shelf in a five foot wide chimney without enough rope to deck. The mood had shifted to a more serious tone as we began clearing the sugar-snow in order to expose the rock, knowing full well that a bollard was out of the question in this kind of snow and in such a tight area. There were no usable cracks, but we did find what would be our crystal ticket to terra-firma. The four-inch diameter ice pillar that revealed itself was more transparent than some of the lead-glass windows in my parent's Victorian farmhouse. Serendipity. [image] The ice pillar anchor. We inspected the connection points of the shaft that spanned a little over a foot and were unable to break the ice chunk free. A lot of questions floated around, without any answers to keep them company as we threaded the ropes. We each took hold of the strands and shock loaded our icy friend as best we could, without risking a ground fall if it failed. I was immediately convinced. Dan was not as sure and I said, "It's good", with a reassuring smile. I knew that he was going first, which, I am ashamed to admit, may have influenced my thoughts.[image] Keep in mind that I would also be in quite a quandary if it blew. Dan locked in and tentatively lowered himself down the shaft. A cloudburst of obscenities filled the air as the ropes went taut. I was unable to see from my vantage point, but a coffin sized sugar-cube broke loose, violently adding its weight to the system before Dan could shake it down to the snow apron below. The pillar held and I followed without incident. [image] Sweet turns to Granite Creek. Once we were both safely down, we pulled the ropes from the most amazing anchor I have ever seen and enjoyed making turns in a seldom skied pocket down to Granite Creek. After stashing our gear for the granite shuffle, we exited as if it were just another stroll in the park. Please return the duration below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the snow conditions of the Northwest Passage backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the snow conditions please return "unsure". The snow conditions should be one of the following options: powder, corn, ice, crust, wind scoured. Feel free to provide multiple values for the snow conditions. Here is the text: Guest TR: Is This Triple A?, By Mark Fellermann By: randosteve| Posted on: December 4, 2008 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People, Random Teton Posts, The Tetons | 10 comments [image] Dan carving calculated turns down the half-pipe. The voice came from above. It wasn't God. "Are you guys OK?" Dan was pounding a piton into a seam and I was flaking the ropes. We looked quizzically at each other, and then up at the couple poised on the edge of the natural half-pipe. We both began to snicker. The humor of the situation swelled deep inside. We confirmed that we were fine. "Is this Triple A?" We cracked and began openly laughing. Unfortunately for them, it was not AAA and we relayed that information to them. Dan asked if they had harnesses in their packs. The misguided duo didn't and I'm not sure what would have happened if they had. We knew their pickle precisely, for we had booted out of this location while on a recon mission a few days earlier. On that day, Dan and I made our way up and over into the depths of the Northwest Passage. Their disappointment would only be matched by the difficulty of putting a boot-pack in the fresh snow to a friendlier location...hopefully to AAA. We informed them that the only way out was up and returned to the task at hand. The mood was much lighter after this encounter, chasing away some of the jitters as we set what would be the first rappel. [image] The rappelling section of the line as seen from near Granite Creek. Dan Petrus and I were not just packing ropes and seeing what kind of trouble we could get into. We had noticed a chimney system in the cleft of rock known as the Northwest Passage (Granite Canyon, Grand Teton National Park) and planned to take advantage of the rock's weakness. [image] [image]Somewhere between the NW Passage and AAA lies a steep entrance. Beyond which, a few more turns brought us to a downed tree that acted as a gate to a unique clearing. On the left side of this clearing was a natural half-pipe that funnels into what I, much to my mother's chagrin, term "Death Air". The snow was a couple days old, shin deep and stable. We skirted by the log sentry toward the half pipe making precise pow turns up and down the drain. At the bottom of the funnel, we peeled out to the right where some exposed rock afforded a good anchor location. Dan, with a small interruption from our visitors, equalized a very good piton placement and a brassy with some cord. Going on rappel, Dan and I showed all those ladies out there that we don't have commitment issues. After descending over a huge chock-stone that created a deep cave, it became apparent that this would not be the rappel, but rather...the first rappel. Below the cave, a hanging snowfield stretched out to a snow-schroomed aerie. I could easily imagine a Yeti living in the cave and tossing the bones of wayward skiers out onto the snowfield and down the chimney. [image] "Death Air" does not exist when a rope is properly employed. The second anchor was a near-perfect horizontal piton placement backed up by what honestly wasn't much more than a shrubbery; albeit a solid pine variety. We, of course, had hoped that this would put us squarely on the canyon floor, but instead we ended up perched on a snowy shelf in a five foot wide chimney without enough rope to deck. The mood had shifted to a more serious tone as we began clearing the sugar-snow in order to expose the rock, knowing full well that a bollard was out of the question in this kind of snow and in such a tight area. There were no usable cracks, but we did find what would be our crystal ticket to terra-firma. The four-inch diameter ice pillar that revealed itself was more transparent than some of the lead-glass windows in my parent's Victorian farmhouse. Serendipity. [image] The ice pillar anchor. We inspected the connection points of the shaft that spanned a little over a foot and were unable to break the ice chunk free. A lot of questions floated around, without any answers to keep them company as we threaded the ropes. We each took hold of the strands and shock loaded our icy friend as best we could, without risking a ground fall if it failed. I was immediately convinced. Dan was not as sure and I said, "It's good", with a reassuring smile. I knew that he was going first, which, I am ashamed to admit, may have influenced my thoughts.[image] Keep in mind that I would also be in quite a quandary if it blew. Dan locked in and tentatively lowered himself down the shaft. A cloudburst of obscenities filled the air as the ropes went taut. I was unable to see from my vantage point, but a coffin sized sugar-cube broke loose, violently adding its weight to the system before Dan could shake it down to the snow apron below. The pillar held and I followed without incident. [image] Sweet turns to Granite Creek. Once we were both safely down, we pulled the ropes from the most amazing anchor I have ever seen and enjoyed making turns in a seldom skied pocket down to Granite Creek. After stashing our gear for the granite shuffle, we exited as if it were just another stroll in the park. Please return the snow conditions below:

powder

Based on the text given below determine the scenic rating of the Northwest Passage backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the scenic rating please return "unsure". The scenic rating should be one of the following options: not scenic, somewhat scenic, very scenic. Here is the text: Guest TR: Is This Triple A?, By Mark Fellermann By: randosteve| Posted on: December 4, 2008 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People, Random Teton Posts, The Tetons | 10 comments [image] Dan carving calculated turns down the half-pipe. The voice came from above. It wasn't God. "Are you guys OK?" Dan was pounding a piton into a seam and I was flaking the ropes. We looked quizzically at each other, and then up at the couple poised on the edge of the natural half-pipe. We both began to snicker. The humor of the situation swelled deep inside. We confirmed that we were fine. "Is this Triple A?" We cracked and began openly laughing. Unfortunately for them, it was not AAA and we relayed that information to them. Dan asked if they had harnesses in their packs. The misguided duo didn't and I'm not sure what would have happened if they had. We knew their pickle precisely, for we had booted out of this location while on a recon mission a few days earlier. On that day, Dan and I made our way up and over into the depths of the Northwest Passage. Their disappointment would only be matched by the difficulty of putting a boot-pack in the fresh snow to a friendlier location...hopefully to AAA. We informed them that the only way out was up and returned to the task at hand. The mood was much lighter after this encounter, chasing away some of the jitters as we set what would be the first rappel. [image] The rappelling section of the line as seen from near Granite Creek. Dan Petrus and I were not just packing ropes and seeing what kind of trouble we could get into. We had noticed a chimney system in the cleft of rock known as the Northwest Passage (Granite Canyon, Grand Teton National Park) and planned to take advantage of the rock's weakness. [image] [image]Somewhere between the NW Passage and AAA lies a steep entrance. Beyond which, a few more turns brought us to a downed tree that acted as a gate to a unique clearing. On the left side of this clearing was a natural half-pipe that funnels into what I, much to my mother's chagrin, term "Death Air". The snow was a couple days old, shin deep and stable. We skirted by the log sentry toward the half pipe making precise pow turns up and down the drain. At the bottom of the funnel, we peeled out to the right where some exposed rock afforded a good anchor location. Dan, with a small interruption from our visitors, equalized a very good piton placement and a brassy with some cord. Going on rappel, Dan and I showed all those ladies out there that we don't have commitment issues. After descending over a huge chock-stone that created a deep cave, it became apparent that this would not be the rappel, but rather...the first rappel. Below the cave, a hanging snowfield stretched out to a snow-schroomed aerie. I could easily imagine a Yeti living in the cave and tossing the bones of wayward skiers out onto the snowfield and down the chimney. [image] "Death Air" does not exist when a rope is properly employed. The second anchor was a near-perfect horizontal piton placement backed up by what honestly wasn't much more than a shrubbery; albeit a solid pine variety. We, of course, had hoped that this would put us squarely on the canyon floor, but instead we ended up perched on a snowy shelf in a five foot wide chimney without enough rope to deck. The mood had shifted to a more serious tone as we began clearing the sugar-snow in order to expose the rock, knowing full well that a bollard was out of the question in this kind of snow and in such a tight area. There were no usable cracks, but we did find what would be our crystal ticket to terra-firma. The four-inch diameter ice pillar that revealed itself was more transparent than some of the lead-glass windows in my parent's Victorian farmhouse. Serendipity. [image] The ice pillar anchor. We inspected the connection points of the shaft that spanned a little over a foot and were unable to break the ice chunk free. A lot of questions floated around, without any answers to keep them company as we threaded the ropes. We each took hold of the strands and shock loaded our icy friend as best we could, without risking a ground fall if it failed. I was immediately convinced. Dan was not as sure and I said, "It's good", with a reassuring smile. I knew that he was going first, which, I am ashamed to admit, may have influenced my thoughts.[image] Keep in mind that I would also be in quite a quandary if it blew. Dan locked in and tentatively lowered himself down the shaft. A cloudburst of obscenities filled the air as the ropes went taut. I was unable to see from my vantage point, but a coffin sized sugar-cube broke loose, violently adding its weight to the system before Dan could shake it down to the snow apron below. The pillar held and I followed without incident. [image] Sweet turns to Granite Creek. Once we were both safely down, we pulled the ropes from the most amazing anchor I have ever seen and enjoyed making turns in a seldom skied pocket down to Granite Creek. After stashing our gear for the granite shuffle, we exited as if it were just another stroll in the park. Please return the scenic rating below:

unsure

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the difficulty of the Alpenglow Ridge backcountry skiing route. The difficulty should be one of the following options: easy, moderate, hard, extreme. Feel free to infer the difficulty, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge By: randosteve| Posted on: December 14, 2006 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People | Comments Off on Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge We are getting bundles of snow right now, a foot last night, and I am sampleing the goods today. Avy danger is way up and I'm sure it will only continue to rise as I hear another 15″ is predicted for tonight. My good friend Reed Finlay did an long tour on Alpenglow Ridge on the west side of the Tetons last week. He said it was a 12+ hr day...enjoy! [image]The first time I attempted to ski Alpenglow Ridge I got caught in a vertigo-inducing whiteout. So Friday presented the perfect opportunity for a renewed attempt with blue skies, warm temps and a light, wicking breeze. This aesthetic tour, a sinuous ridgeline running from Housetop Mountain to Peak 10, 262, can be seen WSW from the top of Rendezvous Mountain (aka JH Mountain Resort). Running along the border between Grand Teton National Park and the Bridger-Teton National Forest, Alpenglow Ridge winds up and over six or seven summits. I had heard of folks hiking this route in summer and know a few hearty souls who have made the trip in winter. [image] Last Friday, Alpenglow presented the perfect option for an early season tour given the boney conditions. I met Mike Warner and Carol Viau in the Albertson's parking lot at 6 a.m., knowing we'd need all the daylight we could get with such short days. One upside to this winter's lack of snow is that it allowed us to drop a car at the summer trailhead at Moose Creek, which is usually snowed in by now. [image]Then we drove to the Fox Creek Trailhead and had a nice leisurely walk on the summer trail up to the Baldy Knoll Yurt. This yurt accesses some amazing ski terrain on the west side of the Tetons and is definitely recommended. It looked like someone had been up there recently and put in a nice track for us all the way up Acid Ridge. Once we passed the yurt the fun began as we ascended up Peak 10, 024' and followed the steep and narrow ridge to Housetop, the highpoint of the tour. The next section involved walking down the south ridge over windswept terrain 'til we finally got back to some snow. It was amazing to me during this trip how much wind must have blown through here over the past couple of weeks. Lots of rock and some interesting cornices and drift patterns abounded. We pretty much walked the knife-edge ridges and when we skied we rarely took off our skins, a method of travel we call "jake-braking." We didn't finish until well after dark, with our headlamps lighting the way, picking our way through the forest where rocks and downed trees lurked above the snow. We didn't get to the Plummer Canyon Highlands until twilight (about 5 p.m. these days) so it made finding the way out a bit of an adventure! We ultimately made it out and enjoyed a hearty burger and fries at the renowned Knotty Pine Supper Club in Victor. Now that we we're getting some snow it's nice to have a tour like Alpenglow behind us. For me it was something to do early season in low snow conditions, before the high lines and other shots on "the list" fill in. Alpenglow Ridge was definitely about "getting further away." Please return the difficulty below:

hard

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the avalanche danger of the Alpenglow Ridge backcountry skiing route. The avalanche danger should be one of the following options: low, moderate, considerable, high, extreme. Feel free to infer the avalanche danger, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge By: randosteve| Posted on: December 14, 2006 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People | Comments Off on Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge We are getting bundles of snow right now, a foot last night, and I am sampleing the goods today. Avy danger is way up and I'm sure it will only continue to rise as I hear another 15″ is predicted for tonight. My good friend Reed Finlay did an long tour on Alpenglow Ridge on the west side of the Tetons last week. He said it was a 12+ hr day...enjoy! [image]The first time I attempted to ski Alpenglow Ridge I got caught in a vertigo-inducing whiteout. So Friday presented the perfect opportunity for a renewed attempt with blue skies, warm temps and a light, wicking breeze. This aesthetic tour, a sinuous ridgeline running from Housetop Mountain to Peak 10, 262, can be seen WSW from the top of Rendezvous Mountain (aka JH Mountain Resort). Running along the border between Grand Teton National Park and the Bridger-Teton National Forest, Alpenglow Ridge winds up and over six or seven summits. I had heard of folks hiking this route in summer and know a few hearty souls who have made the trip in winter. [image] Last Friday, Alpenglow presented the perfect option for an early season tour given the boney conditions. I met Mike Warner and Carol Viau in the Albertson's parking lot at 6 a.m., knowing we'd need all the daylight we could get with such short days. One upside to this winter's lack of snow is that it allowed us to drop a car at the summer trailhead at Moose Creek, which is usually snowed in by now. [image]Then we drove to the Fox Creek Trailhead and had a nice leisurely walk on the summer trail up to the Baldy Knoll Yurt. This yurt accesses some amazing ski terrain on the west side of the Tetons and is definitely recommended. It looked like someone had been up there recently and put in a nice track for us all the way up Acid Ridge. Once we passed the yurt the fun began as we ascended up Peak 10, 024' and followed the steep and narrow ridge to Housetop, the highpoint of the tour. The next section involved walking down the south ridge over windswept terrain 'til we finally got back to some snow. It was amazing to me during this trip how much wind must have blown through here over the past couple of weeks. Lots of rock and some interesting cornices and drift patterns abounded. We pretty much walked the knife-edge ridges and when we skied we rarely took off our skins, a method of travel we call "jake-braking." We didn't finish until well after dark, with our headlamps lighting the way, picking our way through the forest where rocks and downed trees lurked above the snow. We didn't get to the Plummer Canyon Highlands until twilight (about 5 p.m. these days) so it made finding the way out a bit of an adventure! We ultimately made it out and enjoyed a hearty burger and fries at the renowned Knotty Pine Supper Club in Victor. Now that we we're getting some snow it's nice to have a tour like Alpenglow behind us. For me it was something to do early season in low snow conditions, before the high lines and other shots on "the list" fill in. Alpenglow Ridge was definitely about "getting further away." Please return the avalanche danger below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the terrain type of the Alpenglow Ridge backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the terrain type please return "unsure". The terrain type should be one of the following options: couloir, bowl, face, ridge, chute, traverse, trees, glacier. Feel free to provide multiple values for the terrain type. Here is the text: Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge By: randosteve| Posted on: December 14, 2006 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People | Comments Off on Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge We are getting bundles of snow right now, a foot last night, and I am sampleing the goods today. Avy danger is way up and I'm sure it will only continue to rise as I hear another 15″ is predicted for tonight. My good friend Reed Finlay did an long tour on Alpenglow Ridge on the west side of the Tetons last week. He said it was a 12+ hr day...enjoy! [image]The first time I attempted to ski Alpenglow Ridge I got caught in a vertigo-inducing whiteout. So Friday presented the perfect opportunity for a renewed attempt with blue skies, warm temps and a light, wicking breeze. This aesthetic tour, a sinuous ridgeline running from Housetop Mountain to Peak 10, 262, can be seen WSW from the top of Rendezvous Mountain (aka JH Mountain Resort). Running along the border between Grand Teton National Park and the Bridger-Teton National Forest, Alpenglow Ridge winds up and over six or seven summits. I had heard of folks hiking this route in summer and know a few hearty souls who have made the trip in winter. [image] Last Friday, Alpenglow presented the perfect option for an early season tour given the boney conditions. I met Mike Warner and Carol Viau in the Albertson's parking lot at 6 a.m., knowing we'd need all the daylight we could get with such short days. One upside to this winter's lack of snow is that it allowed us to drop a car at the summer trailhead at Moose Creek, which is usually snowed in by now. [image]Then we drove to the Fox Creek Trailhead and had a nice leisurely walk on the summer trail up to the Baldy Knoll Yurt. This yurt accesses some amazing ski terrain on the west side of the Tetons and is definitely recommended. It looked like someone had been up there recently and put in a nice track for us all the way up Acid Ridge. Once we passed the yurt the fun began as we ascended up Peak 10, 024' and followed the steep and narrow ridge to Housetop, the highpoint of the tour. The next section involved walking down the south ridge over windswept terrain 'til we finally got back to some snow. It was amazing to me during this trip how much wind must have blown through here over the past couple of weeks. Lots of rock and some interesting cornices and drift patterns abounded. We pretty much walked the knife-edge ridges and when we skied we rarely took off our skins, a method of travel we call "jake-braking." We didn't finish until well after dark, with our headlamps lighting the way, picking our way through the forest where rocks and downed trees lurked above the snow. We didn't get to the Plummer Canyon Highlands until twilight (about 5 p.m. these days) so it made finding the way out a bit of an adventure! We ultimately made it out and enjoyed a hearty burger and fries at the renowned Knotty Pine Supper Club in Victor. Now that we we're getting some snow it's nice to have a tour like Alpenglow behind us. For me it was something to do early season in low snow conditions, before the high lines and other shots on "the list" fill in. Alpenglow Ridge was definitely about "getting further away." Please return the terrain type below:

traverse

Based on the text given below determine the traverse type of the Alpenglow Ridge backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the traverse type please return "unsure". The traverse type should be one of the following options: out and back, point to point. Here is the text: Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge By: randosteve| Posted on: December 14, 2006 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People | Comments Off on Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge We are getting bundles of snow right now, a foot last night, and I am sampleing the goods today. Avy danger is way up and I'm sure it will only continue to rise as I hear another 15″ is predicted for tonight. My good friend Reed Finlay did an long tour on Alpenglow Ridge on the west side of the Tetons last week. He said it was a 12+ hr day...enjoy! [image]The first time I attempted to ski Alpenglow Ridge I got caught in a vertigo-inducing whiteout. So Friday presented the perfect opportunity for a renewed attempt with blue skies, warm temps and a light, wicking breeze. This aesthetic tour, a sinuous ridgeline running from Housetop Mountain to Peak 10, 262, can be seen WSW from the top of Rendezvous Mountain (aka JH Mountain Resort). Running along the border between Grand Teton National Park and the Bridger-Teton National Forest, Alpenglow Ridge winds up and over six or seven summits. I had heard of folks hiking this route in summer and know a few hearty souls who have made the trip in winter. [image] Last Friday, Alpenglow presented the perfect option for an early season tour given the boney conditions. I met Mike Warner and Carol Viau in the Albertson's parking lot at 6 a.m., knowing we'd need all the daylight we could get with such short days. One upside to this winter's lack of snow is that it allowed us to drop a car at the summer trailhead at Moose Creek, which is usually snowed in by now. [image]Then we drove to the Fox Creek Trailhead and had a nice leisurely walk on the summer trail up to the Baldy Knoll Yurt. This yurt accesses some amazing ski terrain on the west side of the Tetons and is definitely recommended. It looked like someone had been up there recently and put in a nice track for us all the way up Acid Ridge. Once we passed the yurt the fun began as we ascended up Peak 10, 024' and followed the steep and narrow ridge to Housetop, the highpoint of the tour. The next section involved walking down the south ridge over windswept terrain 'til we finally got back to some snow. It was amazing to me during this trip how much wind must have blown through here over the past couple of weeks. Lots of rock and some interesting cornices and drift patterns abounded. We pretty much walked the knife-edge ridges and when we skied we rarely took off our skins, a method of travel we call "jake-braking." We didn't finish until well after dark, with our headlamps lighting the way, picking our way through the forest where rocks and downed trees lurked above the snow. We didn't get to the Plummer Canyon Highlands until twilight (about 5 p.m. these days) so it made finding the way out a bit of an adventure! We ultimately made it out and enjoyed a hearty burger and fries at the renowned Knotty Pine Supper Club in Victor. Now that we we're getting some snow it's nice to have a tour like Alpenglow behind us. For me it was something to do early season in low snow conditions, before the high lines and other shots on "the list" fill in. Alpenglow Ridge was definitely about "getting further away." Please return the traverse type below:

point to point

Based on the text given below determine the starting trailhead of the Alpenglow Ridge backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the starting trailhead please return "unsure". Feel free to provide multiple values for the starting trailhead. Here is the text: Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge By: randosteve| Posted on: December 14, 2006 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People | Comments Off on Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge We are getting bundles of snow right now, a foot last night, and I am sampleing the goods today. Avy danger is way up and I'm sure it will only continue to rise as I hear another 15″ is predicted for tonight. My good friend Reed Finlay did an long tour on Alpenglow Ridge on the west side of the Tetons last week. He said it was a 12+ hr day...enjoy! [image]The first time I attempted to ski Alpenglow Ridge I got caught in a vertigo-inducing whiteout. So Friday presented the perfect opportunity for a renewed attempt with blue skies, warm temps and a light, wicking breeze. This aesthetic tour, a sinuous ridgeline running from Housetop Mountain to Peak 10, 262, can be seen WSW from the top of Rendezvous Mountain (aka JH Mountain Resort). Running along the border between Grand Teton National Park and the Bridger-Teton National Forest, Alpenglow Ridge winds up and over six or seven summits. I had heard of folks hiking this route in summer and know a few hearty souls who have made the trip in winter. [image] Last Friday, Alpenglow presented the perfect option for an early season tour given the boney conditions. I met Mike Warner and Carol Viau in the Albertson's parking lot at 6 a.m., knowing we'd need all the daylight we could get with such short days. One upside to this winter's lack of snow is that it allowed us to drop a car at the summer trailhead at Moose Creek, which is usually snowed in by now. [image]Then we drove to the Fox Creek Trailhead and had a nice leisurely walk on the summer trail up to the Baldy Knoll Yurt. This yurt accesses some amazing ski terrain on the west side of the Tetons and is definitely recommended. It looked like someone had been up there recently and put in a nice track for us all the way up Acid Ridge. Once we passed the yurt the fun began as we ascended up Peak 10, 024' and followed the steep and narrow ridge to Housetop, the highpoint of the tour. The next section involved walking down the south ridge over windswept terrain 'til we finally got back to some snow. It was amazing to me during this trip how much wind must have blown through here over the past couple of weeks. Lots of rock and some interesting cornices and drift patterns abounded. We pretty much walked the knife-edge ridges and when we skied we rarely took off our skins, a method of travel we call "jake-braking." We didn't finish until well after dark, with our headlamps lighting the way, picking our way through the forest where rocks and downed trees lurked above the snow. We didn't get to the Plummer Canyon Highlands until twilight (about 5 p.m. these days) so it made finding the way out a bit of an adventure! We ultimately made it out and enjoyed a hearty burger and fries at the renowned Knotty Pine Supper Club in Victor. Now that we we're getting some snow it's nice to have a tour like Alpenglow behind us. For me it was something to do early season in low snow conditions, before the high lines and other shots on "the list" fill in. Alpenglow Ridge was definitely about "getting further away." Please return the starting trailhead below:

Fox Creek

Based on the text given below determine the ending trailhead of the Alpenglow Ridge backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the ending trailhead please return "unsure". Feel free to provide multiple values for the ending trailhead. Here is the text: Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge By: randosteve| Posted on: December 14, 2006 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People | Comments Off on Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge We are getting bundles of snow right now, a foot last night, and I am sampleing the goods today. Avy danger is way up and I'm sure it will only continue to rise as I hear another 15″ is predicted for tonight. My good friend Reed Finlay did an long tour on Alpenglow Ridge on the west side of the Tetons last week. He said it was a 12+ hr day...enjoy! [image]The first time I attempted to ski Alpenglow Ridge I got caught in a vertigo-inducing whiteout. So Friday presented the perfect opportunity for a renewed attempt with blue skies, warm temps and a light, wicking breeze. This aesthetic tour, a sinuous ridgeline running from Housetop Mountain to Peak 10, 262, can be seen WSW from the top of Rendezvous Mountain (aka JH Mountain Resort). Running along the border between Grand Teton National Park and the Bridger-Teton National Forest, Alpenglow Ridge winds up and over six or seven summits. I had heard of folks hiking this route in summer and know a few hearty souls who have made the trip in winter. [image] Last Friday, Alpenglow presented the perfect option for an early season tour given the boney conditions. I met Mike Warner and Carol Viau in the Albertson's parking lot at 6 a.m., knowing we'd need all the daylight we could get with such short days. One upside to this winter's lack of snow is that it allowed us to drop a car at the summer trailhead at Moose Creek, which is usually snowed in by now. [image]Then we drove to the Fox Creek Trailhead and had a nice leisurely walk on the summer trail up to the Baldy Knoll Yurt. This yurt accesses some amazing ski terrain on the west side of the Tetons and is definitely recommended. It looked like someone had been up there recently and put in a nice track for us all the way up Acid Ridge. Once we passed the yurt the fun began as we ascended up Peak 10, 024' and followed the steep and narrow ridge to Housetop, the highpoint of the tour. The next section involved walking down the south ridge over windswept terrain 'til we finally got back to some snow. It was amazing to me during this trip how much wind must have blown through here over the past couple of weeks. Lots of rock and some interesting cornices and drift patterns abounded. We pretty much walked the knife-edge ridges and when we skied we rarely took off our skins, a method of travel we call "jake-braking." We didn't finish until well after dark, with our headlamps lighting the way, picking our way through the forest where rocks and downed trees lurked above the snow. We didn't get to the Plummer Canyon Highlands until twilight (about 5 p.m. these days) so it made finding the way out a bit of an adventure! We ultimately made it out and enjoyed a hearty burger and fries at the renowned Knotty Pine Supper Club in Victor. Now that we we're getting some snow it's nice to have a tour like Alpenglow behind us. For me it was something to do early season in low snow conditions, before the high lines and other shots on "the list" fill in. Alpenglow Ridge was definitely about "getting further away." Please return the ending trailhead below:

Moose Creek

Based on the text given below determine the popularity of the Alpenglow Ridge backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the popularity please return "unsure". The popularity should be one of the following options: not popular, somewhat popular, very popular. Here is the text: Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge By: randosteve| Posted on: December 14, 2006 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People | Comments Off on Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge We are getting bundles of snow right now, a foot last night, and I am sampleing the goods today. Avy danger is way up and I'm sure it will only continue to rise as I hear another 15″ is predicted for tonight. My good friend Reed Finlay did an long tour on Alpenglow Ridge on the west side of the Tetons last week. He said it was a 12+ hr day...enjoy! [image]The first time I attempted to ski Alpenglow Ridge I got caught in a vertigo-inducing whiteout. So Friday presented the perfect opportunity for a renewed attempt with blue skies, warm temps and a light, wicking breeze. This aesthetic tour, a sinuous ridgeline running from Housetop Mountain to Peak 10, 262, can be seen WSW from the top of Rendezvous Mountain (aka JH Mountain Resort). Running along the border between Grand Teton National Park and the Bridger-Teton National Forest, Alpenglow Ridge winds up and over six or seven summits. I had heard of folks hiking this route in summer and know a few hearty souls who have made the trip in winter. [image] Last Friday, Alpenglow presented the perfect option for an early season tour given the boney conditions. I met Mike Warner and Carol Viau in the Albertson's parking lot at 6 a.m., knowing we'd need all the daylight we could get with such short days. One upside to this winter's lack of snow is that it allowed us to drop a car at the summer trailhead at Moose Creek, which is usually snowed in by now. [image]Then we drove to the Fox Creek Trailhead and had a nice leisurely walk on the summer trail up to the Baldy Knoll Yurt. This yurt accesses some amazing ski terrain on the west side of the Tetons and is definitely recommended. It looked like someone had been up there recently and put in a nice track for us all the way up Acid Ridge. Once we passed the yurt the fun began as we ascended up Peak 10, 024' and followed the steep and narrow ridge to Housetop, the highpoint of the tour. The next section involved walking down the south ridge over windswept terrain 'til we finally got back to some snow. It was amazing to me during this trip how much wind must have blown through here over the past couple of weeks. Lots of rock and some interesting cornices and drift patterns abounded. We pretty much walked the knife-edge ridges and when we skied we rarely took off our skins, a method of travel we call "jake-braking." We didn't finish until well after dark, with our headlamps lighting the way, picking our way through the forest where rocks and downed trees lurked above the snow. We didn't get to the Plummer Canyon Highlands until twilight (about 5 p.m. these days) so it made finding the way out a bit of an adventure! We ultimately made it out and enjoyed a hearty burger and fries at the renowned Knotty Pine Supper Club in Victor. Now that we we're getting some snow it's nice to have a tour like Alpenglow behind us. For me it was something to do early season in low snow conditions, before the high lines and other shots on "the list" fill in. Alpenglow Ridge was definitely about "getting further away." Please return the popularity below:

not popular

Based on the text given below determine the duration of the Alpenglow Ridge backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the duration please return "unsure". The duration should be a number with units of hours. Here is the text: Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge By: randosteve| Posted on: December 14, 2006 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People | Comments Off on Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge We are getting bundles of snow right now, a foot last night, and I am sampleing the goods today. Avy danger is way up and I'm sure it will only continue to rise as I hear another 15″ is predicted for tonight. My good friend Reed Finlay did an long tour on Alpenglow Ridge on the west side of the Tetons last week. He said it was a 12+ hr day...enjoy! [image]The first time I attempted to ski Alpenglow Ridge I got caught in a vertigo-inducing whiteout. So Friday presented the perfect opportunity for a renewed attempt with blue skies, warm temps and a light, wicking breeze. This aesthetic tour, a sinuous ridgeline running from Housetop Mountain to Peak 10, 262, can be seen WSW from the top of Rendezvous Mountain (aka JH Mountain Resort). Running along the border between Grand Teton National Park and the Bridger-Teton National Forest, Alpenglow Ridge winds up and over six or seven summits. I had heard of folks hiking this route in summer and know a few hearty souls who have made the trip in winter. [image] Last Friday, Alpenglow presented the perfect option for an early season tour given the boney conditions. I met Mike Warner and Carol Viau in the Albertson's parking lot at 6 a.m., knowing we'd need all the daylight we could get with such short days. One upside to this winter's lack of snow is that it allowed us to drop a car at the summer trailhead at Moose Creek, which is usually snowed in by now. [image]Then we drove to the Fox Creek Trailhead and had a nice leisurely walk on the summer trail up to the Baldy Knoll Yurt. This yurt accesses some amazing ski terrain on the west side of the Tetons and is definitely recommended. It looked like someone had been up there recently and put in a nice track for us all the way up Acid Ridge. Once we passed the yurt the fun began as we ascended up Peak 10, 024' and followed the steep and narrow ridge to Housetop, the highpoint of the tour. The next section involved walking down the south ridge over windswept terrain 'til we finally got back to some snow. It was amazing to me during this trip how much wind must have blown through here over the past couple of weeks. Lots of rock and some interesting cornices and drift patterns abounded. We pretty much walked the knife-edge ridges and when we skied we rarely took off our skins, a method of travel we call "jake-braking." We didn't finish until well after dark, with our headlamps lighting the way, picking our way through the forest where rocks and downed trees lurked above the snow. We didn't get to the Plummer Canyon Highlands until twilight (about 5 p.m. these days) so it made finding the way out a bit of an adventure! We ultimately made it out and enjoyed a hearty burger and fries at the renowned Knotty Pine Supper Club in Victor. Now that we we're getting some snow it's nice to have a tour like Alpenglow behind us. For me it was something to do early season in low snow conditions, before the high lines and other shots on "the list" fill in. Alpenglow Ridge was definitely about "getting further away." Please return the duration below:

12-13 hours

Based on the text given below determine the snow conditions of the Alpenglow Ridge backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the snow conditions please return "unsure". The snow conditions should be one of the following options: powder, corn, ice, crust, wind scoured. Feel free to provide multiple values for the snow conditions. Here is the text: Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge By: randosteve| Posted on: December 14, 2006 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People | Comments Off on Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge We are getting bundles of snow right now, a foot last night, and I am sampleing the goods today. Avy danger is way up and I'm sure it will only continue to rise as I hear another 15″ is predicted for tonight. My good friend Reed Finlay did an long tour on Alpenglow Ridge on the west side of the Tetons last week. He said it was a 12+ hr day...enjoy! [image]The first time I attempted to ski Alpenglow Ridge I got caught in a vertigo-inducing whiteout. So Friday presented the perfect opportunity for a renewed attempt with blue skies, warm temps and a light, wicking breeze. This aesthetic tour, a sinuous ridgeline running from Housetop Mountain to Peak 10, 262, can be seen WSW from the top of Rendezvous Mountain (aka JH Mountain Resort). Running along the border between Grand Teton National Park and the Bridger-Teton National Forest, Alpenglow Ridge winds up and over six or seven summits. I had heard of folks hiking this route in summer and know a few hearty souls who have made the trip in winter. [image] Last Friday, Alpenglow presented the perfect option for an early season tour given the boney conditions. I met Mike Warner and Carol Viau in the Albertson's parking lot at 6 a.m., knowing we'd need all the daylight we could get with such short days. One upside to this winter's lack of snow is that it allowed us to drop a car at the summer trailhead at Moose Creek, which is usually snowed in by now. [image]Then we drove to the Fox Creek Trailhead and had a nice leisurely walk on the summer trail up to the Baldy Knoll Yurt. This yurt accesses some amazing ski terrain on the west side of the Tetons and is definitely recommended. It looked like someone had been up there recently and put in a nice track for us all the way up Acid Ridge. Once we passed the yurt the fun began as we ascended up Peak 10, 024' and followed the steep and narrow ridge to Housetop, the highpoint of the tour. The next section involved walking down the south ridge over windswept terrain 'til we finally got back to some snow. It was amazing to me during this trip how much wind must have blown through here over the past couple of weeks. Lots of rock and some interesting cornices and drift patterns abounded. We pretty much walked the knife-edge ridges and when we skied we rarely took off our skins, a method of travel we call "jake-braking." We didn't finish until well after dark, with our headlamps lighting the way, picking our way through the forest where rocks and downed trees lurked above the snow. We didn't get to the Plummer Canyon Highlands until twilight (about 5 p.m. these days) so it made finding the way out a bit of an adventure! We ultimately made it out and enjoyed a hearty burger and fries at the renowned Knotty Pine Supper Club in Victor. Now that we we're getting some snow it's nice to have a tour like Alpenglow behind us. For me it was something to do early season in low snow conditions, before the high lines and other shots on "the list" fill in. Alpenglow Ridge was definitely about "getting further away." Please return the snow conditions below:

wind scoured

Based on the text given below determine the scenic rating of the Alpenglow Ridge backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the scenic rating please return "unsure". The scenic rating should be one of the following options: not scenic, somewhat scenic, very scenic. Here is the text: Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge By: randosteve| Posted on: December 14, 2006 | Posted in: Broken Link to Photo/Video, Guest Posts, People | Comments Off on Guest Blog: Reed Finlay and Friends Tour Alpenglow Ridge We are getting bundles of snow right now, a foot last night, and I am sampleing the goods today. Avy danger is way up and I'm sure it will only continue to rise as I hear another 15″ is predicted for tonight. My good friend Reed Finlay did an long tour on Alpenglow Ridge on the west side of the Tetons last week. He said it was a 12+ hr day...enjoy! [image]The first time I attempted to ski Alpenglow Ridge I got caught in a vertigo-inducing whiteout. So Friday presented the perfect opportunity for a renewed attempt with blue skies, warm temps and a light, wicking breeze. This aesthetic tour, a sinuous ridgeline running from Housetop Mountain to Peak 10, 262, can be seen WSW from the top of Rendezvous Mountain (aka JH Mountain Resort). Running along the border between Grand Teton National Park and the Bridger-Teton National Forest, Alpenglow Ridge winds up and over six or seven summits. I had heard of folks hiking this route in summer and know a few hearty souls who have made the trip in winter. [image] Last Friday, Alpenglow presented the perfect option for an early season tour given the boney conditions. I met Mike Warner and Carol Viau in the Albertson's parking lot at 6 a.m., knowing we'd need all the daylight we could get with such short days. One upside to this winter's lack of snow is that it allowed us to drop a car at the summer trailhead at Moose Creek, which is usually snowed in by now. [image]Then we drove to the Fox Creek Trailhead and had a nice leisurely walk on the summer trail up to the Baldy Knoll Yurt. This yurt accesses some amazing ski terrain on the west side of the Tetons and is definitely recommended. It looked like someone had been up there recently and put in a nice track for us all the way up Acid Ridge. Once we passed the yurt the fun began as we ascended up Peak 10, 024' and followed the steep and narrow ridge to Housetop, the highpoint of the tour. The next section involved walking down the south ridge over windswept terrain 'til we finally got back to some snow. It was amazing to me during this trip how much wind must have blown through here over the past couple of weeks. Lots of rock and some interesting cornices and drift patterns abounded. We pretty much walked the knife-edge ridges and when we skied we rarely took off our skins, a method of travel we call "jake-braking." We didn't finish until well after dark, with our headlamps lighting the way, picking our way through the forest where rocks and downed trees lurked above the snow. We didn't get to the Plummer Canyon Highlands until twilight (about 5 p.m. these days) so it made finding the way out a bit of an adventure! We ultimately made it out and enjoyed a hearty burger and fries at the renowned Knotty Pine Supper Club in Victor. Now that we we're getting some snow it's nice to have a tour like Alpenglow behind us. For me it was something to do early season in low snow conditions, before the high lines and other shots on "the list" fill in. Alpenglow Ridge was definitely about "getting further away." Please return the scenic rating below:

very scenic

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the difficulty of the Horseshoe Couloir backcountry skiing route. The difficulty should be one of the following options: easy, moderate, hard, extreme. Feel free to infer the difficulty, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: Horseshoe Couloir A steep and dangerous NE facing couloir with a medium to large rappel or mandatory air halfway down, depending on how well it's filled in. It could be between 5 and 25 feet. Scout it before you ski it and make sure you're comfortable stopping and setting up a rappel halfway down a couloir, or if it's a big snow year, make sure you're comfortable landing the drop if you drop it. You don't want to crash in a couloir like this one. The risk is high in this line, and the threat of avalanche is very real. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trip Reports 12/07/2014 - (Jess McMillan Blog) 03/25/2013 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/12/2012 - (David Hewett Blog) 03/11/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/07/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) Websites Unofficial Networks Videos All videos are Copyright their respective owners. These are 3rd party videos hosted on YouTube or Vimeo and we make no guarantees as to their accuracy or relevance. Shralping the Horseshoe Couloir in Jackson Hole by Connor Cook: 03/11/2014 [video] Horseshoe 2012 by Tanner Flanagan: 04/07/2012 [iframe] Holiday Horseshoe Unwrapping, Jackson, WY by Unofficial Networks: 12/25/2010 [iframe] Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Southern Tetons, Teton Range Please return the difficulty below:

extreme

Based on the text given below give me a rating of the avalanche danger of the Horseshoe Couloir backcountry skiing route. The avalanche danger should be one of the following options: low, moderate, considerable, high, extreme. Feel free to infer the avalanche danger, but if don't have enough information to make an inference please return "unsure". Here is the text: Horseshoe Couloir A steep and dangerous NE facing couloir with a medium to large rappel or mandatory air halfway down, depending on how well it's filled in. It could be between 5 and 25 feet. Scout it before you ski it and make sure you're comfortable stopping and setting up a rappel halfway down a couloir, or if it's a big snow year, make sure you're comfortable landing the drop if you drop it. You don't want to crash in a couloir like this one. The risk is high in this line, and the threat of avalanche is very real. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trip Reports 12/07/2014 - (Jess McMillan Blog) 03/25/2013 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/12/2012 - (David Hewett Blog) 03/11/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/07/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) Websites Unofficial Networks Videos All videos are Copyright their respective owners. These are 3rd party videos hosted on YouTube or Vimeo and we make no guarantees as to their accuracy or relevance. Shralping the Horseshoe Couloir in Jackson Hole by Connor Cook: 03/11/2014 [video] Horseshoe 2012 by Tanner Flanagan: 04/07/2012 [iframe] Holiday Horseshoe Unwrapping, Jackson, WY by Unofficial Networks: 12/25/2010 [iframe] Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Southern Tetons, Teton Range Please return the avalanche danger below:

high

Based on the text given below determine the terrain type of the Horseshoe Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the terrain type please return "unsure". The terrain type should be one of the following options: couloir, bowl, face, ridge, chute, traverse, trees, glacier. Feel free to provide multiple values for the terrain type. Here is the text: Horseshoe Couloir A steep and dangerous NE facing couloir with a medium to large rappel or mandatory air halfway down, depending on how well it's filled in. It could be between 5 and 25 feet. Scout it before you ski it and make sure you're comfortable stopping and setting up a rappel halfway down a couloir, or if it's a big snow year, make sure you're comfortable landing the drop if you drop it. You don't want to crash in a couloir like this one. The risk is high in this line, and the threat of avalanche is very real. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trip Reports 12/07/2014 - (Jess McMillan Blog) 03/25/2013 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/12/2012 - (David Hewett Blog) 03/11/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/07/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) Websites Unofficial Networks Videos All videos are Copyright their respective owners. These are 3rd party videos hosted on YouTube or Vimeo and we make no guarantees as to their accuracy or relevance. Shralping the Horseshoe Couloir in Jackson Hole by Connor Cook: 03/11/2014 [video] Horseshoe 2012 by Tanner Flanagan: 04/07/2012 [iframe] Holiday Horseshoe Unwrapping, Jackson, WY by Unofficial Networks: 12/25/2010 [iframe] Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Southern Tetons, Teton Range Please return the terrain type below:

couloir

Based on the text given below determine the trailhead of the Horseshoe Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the trailhead please return "unsure". Feel free to provide multiple values for the trailhead. Here is the text: Horseshoe Couloir A steep and dangerous NE facing couloir with a medium to large rappel or mandatory air halfway down, depending on how well it's filled in. It could be between 5 and 25 feet. Scout it before you ski it and make sure you're comfortable stopping and setting up a rappel halfway down a couloir, or if it's a big snow year, make sure you're comfortable landing the drop if you drop it. You don't want to crash in a couloir like this one. The risk is high in this line, and the threat of avalanche is very real. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trip Reports 12/07/2014 - (Jess McMillan Blog) 03/25/2013 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/12/2012 - (David Hewett Blog) 03/11/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/07/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) Websites Unofficial Networks Videos All videos are Copyright their respective owners. These are 3rd party videos hosted on YouTube or Vimeo and we make no guarantees as to their accuracy or relevance. Shralping the Horseshoe Couloir in Jackson Hole by Connor Cook: 03/11/2014 [video] Horseshoe 2012 by Tanner Flanagan: 04/07/2012 [iframe] Holiday Horseshoe Unwrapping, Jackson, WY by Unofficial Networks: 12/25/2010 [iframe] Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Southern Tetons, Teton Range Please return the trailhead below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the popularity of the Horseshoe Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the popularity please return "unsure". The popularity should be one of the following options: not popular, somewhat popular, very popular. Here is the text: Horseshoe Couloir A steep and dangerous NE facing couloir with a medium to large rappel or mandatory air halfway down, depending on how well it's filled in. It could be between 5 and 25 feet. Scout it before you ski it and make sure you're comfortable stopping and setting up a rappel halfway down a couloir, or if it's a big snow year, make sure you're comfortable landing the drop if you drop it. You don't want to crash in a couloir like this one. The risk is high in this line, and the threat of avalanche is very real. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trip Reports 12/07/2014 - (Jess McMillan Blog) 03/25/2013 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/12/2012 - (David Hewett Blog) 03/11/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/07/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) Websites Unofficial Networks Videos All videos are Copyright their respective owners. These are 3rd party videos hosted on YouTube or Vimeo and we make no guarantees as to their accuracy or relevance. Shralping the Horseshoe Couloir in Jackson Hole by Connor Cook: 03/11/2014 [video] Horseshoe 2012 by Tanner Flanagan: 04/07/2012 [iframe] Holiday Horseshoe Unwrapping, Jackson, WY by Unofficial Networks: 12/25/2010 [iframe] Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Southern Tetons, Teton Range Please return the popularity below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the duration of the Horseshoe Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the duration please return "unsure". The duration should be a number with units of hours. Here is the text: Horseshoe Couloir A steep and dangerous NE facing couloir with a medium to large rappel or mandatory air halfway down, depending on how well it's filled in. It could be between 5 and 25 feet. Scout it before you ski it and make sure you're comfortable stopping and setting up a rappel halfway down a couloir, or if it's a big snow year, make sure you're comfortable landing the drop if you drop it. You don't want to crash in a couloir like this one. The risk is high in this line, and the threat of avalanche is very real. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trip Reports 12/07/2014 - (Jess McMillan Blog) 03/25/2013 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/12/2012 - (David Hewett Blog) 03/11/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/07/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) Websites Unofficial Networks Videos All videos are Copyright their respective owners. These are 3rd party videos hosted on YouTube or Vimeo and we make no guarantees as to their accuracy or relevance. Shralping the Horseshoe Couloir in Jackson Hole by Connor Cook: 03/11/2014 [video] Horseshoe 2012 by Tanner Flanagan: 04/07/2012 [iframe] Holiday Horseshoe Unwrapping, Jackson, WY by Unofficial Networks: 12/25/2010 [iframe] Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Southern Tetons, Teton Range Please return the duration below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the snow conditions of the Horseshoe Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the snow conditions please return "unsure". The snow conditions should be one of the following options: powder, corn, ice, crust, wind scoured. Feel free to provide multiple values for the snow conditions. Here is the text: Horseshoe Couloir A steep and dangerous NE facing couloir with a medium to large rappel or mandatory air halfway down, depending on how well it's filled in. It could be between 5 and 25 feet. Scout it before you ski it and make sure you're comfortable stopping and setting up a rappel halfway down a couloir, or if it's a big snow year, make sure you're comfortable landing the drop if you drop it. You don't want to crash in a couloir like this one. The risk is high in this line, and the threat of avalanche is very real. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trip Reports 12/07/2014 - (Jess McMillan Blog) 03/25/2013 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/12/2012 - (David Hewett Blog) 03/11/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/07/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) Websites Unofficial Networks Videos All videos are Copyright their respective owners. These are 3rd party videos hosted on YouTube or Vimeo and we make no guarantees as to their accuracy or relevance. Shralping the Horseshoe Couloir in Jackson Hole by Connor Cook: 03/11/2014 [video] Horseshoe 2012 by Tanner Flanagan: 04/07/2012 [iframe] Holiday Horseshoe Unwrapping, Jackson, WY by Unofficial Networks: 12/25/2010 [iframe] Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Southern Tetons, Teton Range Please return the snow conditions below:

unsure

Based on the text given below determine the scenic rating of the Horseshoe Couloir backcountry skiing route. If the text doesn't mention the scenic rating please return "unsure". The scenic rating should be one of the following options: not scenic, somewhat scenic, very scenic. Here is the text: Horseshoe Couloir A steep and dangerous NE facing couloir with a medium to large rappel or mandatory air halfway down, depending on how well it's filled in. It could be between 5 and 25 feet. Scout it before you ski it and make sure you're comfortable stopping and setting up a rappel halfway down a couloir, or if it's a big snow year, make sure you're comfortable landing the drop if you drop it. You don't want to crash in a couloir like this one. The risk is high in this line, and the threat of avalanche is very real. Maps *All Mapped Areas are Approximations Trip Reports 12/07/2014 - (Jess McMillan Blog) 03/25/2013 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/12/2012 - (David Hewett Blog) 03/11/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) 03/07/2010 - (Ungrounded Productions) Websites Unofficial Networks Videos All videos are Copyright their respective owners. These are 3rd party videos hosted on YouTube or Vimeo and we make no guarantees as to their accuracy or relevance. Shralping the Horseshoe Couloir in Jackson Hole by Connor Cook: 03/11/2014 [video] Horseshoe 2012 by Tanner Flanagan: 04/07/2012 [iframe] Holiday Horseshoe Unwrapping, Jackson, WY by Unofficial Networks: 12/25/2010 [iframe] Find Nearby Zones *All Mapped Areas are Approximations tagged: Southern Tetons, Teton Range Please return the scenic rating below:

unsure