The best laid plans can sometimes be laid to waste, especially when it comes to travel in the mountains. Such was the case on a recent trip to backcountry ski Mount Timpanogos, where my objective, along with Mike D, was to ski the famed East Ridge. Warm, spring-like temps, along with lots of recent sun, started a mini corn-cycle in the Wasatch, so we figured it was a good time to knock on Mother Timp’s door despite it being a bit early in the season for turns on her massive slopes… we were wrong.
The day’s forecast called for partly sunny skies with a high temperature of 45 degrees. Thinking the warm weather and sporadic cloud cover would allow passage on soft snow, even at higher elevations, we decided to go for broke and began to skin up Primrose Cirque from the Aspen Grove trailhead. We knew it would cloud up later in the afternoon, but hoped that enough morning sun would turn the snowpack into edgeable cream.
Things started out rosy as sunrise cast alpenglow on the peaks and zero wind met us on the skin track. But it didn’t take long for dark clouds to roll in, followed by gusts that must have been around 50-miles-per hour. Stinging snow flew into our faces, and literal “snowfalls” spilled down massive cliffs on either side of the cirque. Hoping this was just a passing fluke, we continued on, switchbacking on hard, styrofoam snow until the upper headwall where we put skis on packs and began to boot up, only to find that the snow here turned to sugar where we wallowed up to our waists.
Far too much energy was burned simply to gain the flat spot above Primrose Cirque, so it was with much relish that we came to the small hut beneath the year-long snowfield at the foot of Timp’s true summit. Unfortunately, the weather got even worse and we couldn’t see anything through the fog and clouds that capped all upper peaks. It was obvious that “Plan A” was a wash, and any other backups were also bonked.
After lunch we exited the hut and saw that Robert’s Horn was still visible. Motivated to summit something, a new plan was hatched (call it “Plan M”) and we set off for a summit-linking ridge. But very hard snow and a lack of ski crampons put us in a precarious situation above a cliff, where the slightest misstep would send us sliding off the rocks below. Rather than test the capability of our Whippets, we gingerly switched to ski mode and seesawed back down to flat ground and the hut where Mother Timp threw even harder wind at us – a sure sign of her displeasure at our presence. It was time for “Plan Q” – go home.
Despite our failure-due-to-weather, the ski down Primrose Cirque was epic. All that wind loaded the slope to the point that our 4-foot deep boot pack was already buried. Concerned, we carefully linked safe-zone to safe-zone, taking turns to ski dangerously-loaded faces and open bowls to the bottom. A short traverse through brush and the lower drainage made quick work of our exit to the car where much-earned beer awaited. Although “Plan A” was far from even realized, “Plan Q” turned out to be a nearly 5,000 foot ski descent on snow that was surprisingly soft and fun. Timpanogos had other plans for us that day, and considering the consequences of defying her, I’d say the trip turned out as well as can be.
In situations like this, Kenny Rogers seems wiser than usual:
You got to know when to hold ’em,
know when to fold ’em,
Know when to walk away
and know when to run.
Solid effort despite the adversity.
Thanks A OK. Mike and I redeemed ourselves on Bonkers today. Kenny would be proud.