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Dawn broke on Sunday
in a ridiculous fashion. Sunrise from my tent door
down the North Fork, over the owens valley, and to
countless desert ranges to the east was nothing short
of inspiring. I jumped out of my sleeping bag
and was fired up to seize the day.
Today was the big day
for skiing. Fred and I had wanted to tour up the
T-bolt glacier to Winchell Col to get the view over
Dusy Basin to the peaks of Kings Canyon beyond. Chris
pulled me aside and confided that this was not
going to be a touring day for him. "I'm riding chutes
today, man. Sick, steep, awful looking chutes." I
considered this as I looked up at the U-notch, my
knees buckling as I thought about skiing that sick,
steep, awful looking chute. We convened on the
moraine. Nate, Fred, John, Dave and I had
decided to ski over to Winchell Col. Robb
climbed up from camp and without missing a beat,
looked over at Chris and said, "I'm thinkin' U".
So together they ascended up to the base of the
U-notch. Since I wasn't going, I loaned Robb my helmet
to protect against rockfall in the couloir. The rest
of us headed for the friendlier confines of the
Thunderbolt glacier. Sam and Rick were feeling the
effects of altitude and lack of sleep, so they chilled
in camp.
Our group dropped
down to the T-bolt glacier and began contouring across
to Winchell Col. Along the way, my eye caught sight of
the long couloir dropping down from near the summit of
Thunderbolt peak. Despite not wanting to ski steep
chutes today, I subconsciously starting skinning up to
the base of the couloir. Before I knew it, my skis
were on the pack and crampons were on the boots. I
started kicking steps up the chute. The snow was still
very firm, although it had been in the sun for some
time. We climbed for awhile and it kept getting
steeper and steeper, the snow harder and harder. A
small rock whizzed by and I'm thinking to myself,
"Hey, maybe I should've hung on to my friggin'
helmet." Feeling somewhat gripped, Dave and I head
over and find refuge on a group of rocks. Nate
calls it quits down below and attempts to get his
boots into his 7tms telemark bindings on a bulletproof
40-45 degree slope. One temper tantrum later, Nate's
pole is broken and cartwheeling into the void hundreds
of feet below (can you say "Randonee"?).
Somehow, he gets into his binding and pulls survival
turns down the couloir. Dave and I repeat the process
and manage to get down to the glacier unscathed.
Common sense having
set in, we continue up the glacier to Winchell Col.
Fred and John have just descended from the col,
leaving perfect figure 8's in the corn behind them.
Dave, Nate and I make our own way up to Winchell Col.
The view is spectacular --
out over Dusy Basin and LeConte Canyon, with Black
Giant, Mt. Goddard and Mt. McGee in the distance.
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