The rangers were waiting for us. We had just finished a day of ski touring on Antelope Island on the Great Salt Lake, and one ranger in particular screamed up in his pickup, and slammed his government-issue long bed to a stop behind our cars, preventing our escape. He jumped out so fast you’d think the State of Utah had installed an ejection seat on the driver’s side. “You guys skied off the trail!” he shouted. We hadn’t of course, at least we did our best not to considering the path was covered in snow and was impossible to see.
We had met this ranger earlier in the morning as we started skinning up a track already in place from the day before. It was much the same scenario, as he pulled up in his truck and yelled at us from 200 yards away that we were “off trail.” Realizing our mistake, we traversed back to the road and found the main trailhead, then proceeded to ascend the correct way. Our destination was Frary Peak, the highest point on Antelope Island, and a recent snowstorm that dropped three feet of snow in the valleys which led us to believe that this was an opportunity to ski the unskiable.
Antelope Island never gets much snow, but looking at her from I-15 in Davis County, a white pyramid floating above the slate water of the lake, makes any backcountry skier think that making turns might actually be possible here. On this day, there was snow, more than the island had seen in 10 years, but it still wasn’t what one would consider “deep.” Rocks and weeds poked out everywhere, and small bushes had to be carefully negotiated around when skinning the lower elevations.
Half an hour after starting, we reached the top of a shoulder where we could see the other side of the island, and the western horizon filled with nothing but flat, grey waters. The entire island was white, with skiable lines on ridges and chutes that we enviously scoped out, knowing full well that we were not, under any circumstances, to go off trail. The ranger’s admonition echoed in our brains, and we scrupulously followed it by linking together carbon posts with mileage info.
Despite the fact that we couldn’t do any “real skiing” on the mountain, just being on Antelope Island in the winter was worth it. The land was alien – stark and barren. Few plant life save for lone trees scattered like pickup sticks and buried shrubs accompanied us, while the dead, salty waters of the lake lay frozen far below our skis. We felt completely alone and exposed, despite being just a few miles west of a major metropolitan area.
After winding through some small cliff bands, we traversed west around the lower flanks of the peak until a route onto the ridge could be found. Signs of avalanche activity and unstable snow were everywhere. Collapsing of the snowpack with audible “whoomphs” were frequent, and recent slides could be seen on east-facing slopes. But the ridge was low angle enough that we continued for the top.
As we neared the summit, we could see ski tracks in a small bowl just below the peak. They looked like they were made the day before by a party of three. (Looking at the Utah Avalanche Center website showed that they had set off an avalanche, which they reported.) Judging by the shallow snow, avalanche activity, and the ranger’s warnings, we decided not to follow suit and make tracks of our own, as tempting as that was.
From there, it didn’t take long to reach a false summit of Frary Peak. A large radio tower marks this sub-peak, while the actual summit lies north and is protected by large cliffs and a knife-edge ridge covered with ice and snow. We thought it prudent to turn back here so we ate lunch, took photos of the incredible 360-degree view, and headed back down.
Because of the exposed, sharp rocks, we kept our climbing skins on to protect ski bases. It also forced us to stay on trail as we were paranoid that the rangers were watching us from below with binoculars. As we threaded down the mountain, it wasn’t exactly skiing, but it still was a hell of a lot faster than hiking. In under an hour, we were back at the trailhead when the ranger accused us of skiing the mountain.
He saw the tracks made the day before and assumed it was us, but we quickly diffused the situation so fast that we were laughing with the guy by the end of our conversation. But the encounter did drive home the fact that the authorities are very protective of Antelope Island, and to ski tour above the Great Salt Lake, it is essential to follow the rules or risk a citation.
Nevertheless, if snow conditions are right, ski touring on Frary Peak is an amazing way to see Antelope Island. It may be closer to hiking, but skins and skis are far more efficient than snowshoes, and more fun too. While strict rules about staying on trail seems ridiculous in the winter when snow buries it, it’s not too hard to link together those carbon poles and do the best you can. Bring along a trail map and topo to take any guess-work out of the equation.
For more about Antelope Island State Park and the recreation opportunities there, take a gander at their website.
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