Idaho goods

This weekend brought great adventures while visiting Mr. Mike McClure in his new found hometown. After a couple quick tasks, I was leaving work mid morning to load the van and hit the road. After 5.5 hours of desolate western highway driving, admiring the endless possiblilities of the Southern Madison Range and the Henery's Fork Mountains, later trying to stay cool crossing the desert of the INL site, I arrived and Mike's house and he generously showed me his private fishing stash with productive result.

I was somewhat surprised to see such a low snow line on the range. That of course means hoofing it with skis on backs. 

Where's the snow?

Mike's recent pruning efforts provided efficient travel on the initial hike that followed a climber's/game trail up the creek. 

A surprise companion on the trip was Lloyd Corwin of Idaho Falls. Mike, amazed to see skis on a random vehicle in town before my arrival approached Lloyd in the cafe, demanded an explanation, and invited him for a day in the hills. Lloyd is a nuclear engineer at INL living in Idaho Falls, a former ski instructor, and one hell of an awesome dude!

Lloyd Corwin at the ski/foot transition.

Once we reached the skin line, I noticed a lone skinner higher in the basin. Was this a real person or a rock or stump? I watched longer and sure enough it was a real person moving! But from where did this person come? There were no other vehicles at the "trailhead". Did he descend Brietenback from the other side of the range and was now skining back out? Mike, again craving ski partners, raced away from Lloyd and I to attempt a meeting with the mysterious skinner. We missed him but later on our ascent, the mysterious skinner skied to us and we met Steve from Pokey, an experienced ski mountaineer of the region. He and Mike exchanged numbers, he skinned up with us for another 1000', and descended from our day. We learned he had approached from the Super Gully trailhead on Lost River Mountain. Leaving Steve, we were making quick work as we entered the upper basin. 

Mike McClure making quick work of the nice grade into the upper basin.

After some technical skinning with one ski on steep talus while the other was relying gratuitously on a detached cornice, we reached the false-summit of Mt. Breihtenbach (~12,000). 

McClure refuels before a Spring decent with Mt. Breihtenbach in the background. 

Once refueled and primed, the decent commenced. We traversed the ridge, crossing several scree sections taking little precautions for base preservation with the objective nearing and the stoke high. Oddly, after seeing McClure step through rocky sections, without any communication or Mike's attention, green Lloyd descended abruptly down the main face. I shrugged at the notion and contemplated yelling for him to stop. Figuring he seemed okay and the risk was only somewhat prevalent, I simply watched until he was below a roll over and rejoined Mike to a few more rock traverses until we reached our objective. Lesson: ensure the entire party is aware of the objective and communicate. Naturally, we assumed he would just follow us, eventually it turned out okay but in winter conditions this would be completely unacceptable form. Not all to blame on Lloyd though as his nickname implies, he's somewhat green around the edges and obviously we had no formal discussion of "the plan" so are equally at fault. After we observed Lloyd safely clear his run, we descended. As a great guide does, Mike offered me first corn tracks down the prominent double coulair. I won't exaggerate, the semi-quality spring snow was somewhat challenging but once I found a rhythm balancing weight and momentum of my turns to the penetrable and heavy upper 12" of the snowpack, I was shredding the line without hesitation. Mike followed with a repeat of the coulair he skied the past weekend only to traverse into my coulair mid-face. 

Mike executing flawless form on spring snow. 

We decided rather than another lap, we should descend to the laborious hike out followed by cold beer that awaited in the truck. 

What a great day! Mike and I made a new friend and we all shredded a high alpine peak in (mostly) great spring corn!

Mike and I were contemplating the next day's objective. We drove north to observe how the snowpack was holding up on those mountians. We initially were considering Dickey Peak but serious lack of snow drove our attention to the Grand Prize that is Mt. Borah, Idaho's highest peak. Should we take it easy so I can get home early and be ready for work Monday? HELL NO! Not that old yet! At 12,699 ft, the standard route climbs 5,500' in 3.5 miles from the trailhead. 

Mt. Borah from US HWY 93.

We decided to get a mildly early start, leaving Mike's house at 6 am for a 7 am trailhead departure. Making quick work of the elevation gain, we took a break and relished the viewshed. 

The objective is the looker's right coulair starting clean at the top ending in a mess of outcroppings.

After more ridgeline slogging we reached "chicken out ridge". Being the highest peak in Idaho, the venue sees a large number of regular attempts ranging from mountain experts to semi-advanced hikers. As the name implies, a large portion of all attempts end at the chicken out ridge due to its attention getting exposure and required confidence. For gripping reasons, I took only a few photos along the ridge which conveniently turned out blurry. Geez, these darn smartphones can't even consistently take crisp, balanced pictures. 

We finally reached the summit after some gripping knife-edged ridge traversing and front pointing. Again practicing good guide form, Mike sensed my anxiety and offered to start off the descent. 

Quite a long run, I'm guessing around 3,000', we leapfrogged our way through the upper coulair where "mostly" consistent snow made for great turns. 

We arrived at the technical lower section of the face where Mike executed perfect steep skiing form.

 And approached the crux section (WI2). 

After some traversing of the bottom face, we cursed as we skied through recent wet slide debris and awful snowpack. Ever have your tips sink no matter how far you lean back? We finally reached the transition zone and bountifully hiked through soft forest and meadow to the car. 

Wow, I almost forgot the classic "Reverse McClure" descent technique. He's actually faster than myself walking normal down a steep slope and his knees feel great!

What a great trip. I owe many thanks to my unpaid guide Mike. He graciously showed me his treasures and I eagerly accepted! Looking forward to subsequent visits. Certainly one for the memory books. After returning to work the last couple days I can't wait until the weekend when I can venture into the mountains again and continue to have vividly real experiences like these that make me really feel alive!