Ladies Backcountry Ski Day

After hiking up the Tilly Jane Ski trail one hot day last summer, I was itching for a colder, snowier revisit.  Clear skies were forecast MLK weekend so I rounded up my adventure buddies Young and Catherine for a ladies ski day.

My partners in crime!

Although Young and I are long time backcountry ski buddies, this would be a totally new experience for Catherine.  The short 3-mile trek to Tilly Jane cabin provided a perfect first-timer introduction to the world of backcountry skiing.

Sliding uphill

Arriving at the parking area, it took several minutes for the three of us to don appropriate clothing, buckle up boots, locate skis and poles, and make sure our backpacks contained the essentials.  But finally, gear together, my friends and I approached the forested lower trail.

Lovely snowy forest

The first half mile of the Tilly Jane Trail wound through a fir forest.  An earlier snowstorm had dumped a foot of fluffy white.  Drooping tree branches, thickly laden with snow, made the woods look positively magical.  My friends and I oohed and aahed as we slid along, with me opting for several  photo breaks.

Catherine admires the scenery

Sporting true backcountry skis with climbing skins, Young and I slid uphill with ease.  Catherine, however, had only cross country skis with patterned bottoms and no skins.  Steep climbs were much more challenging, but Catherine managed to successfully side-step up the first few little hills.

Catherine did great despite not having climbing skins

We came upon the first trail junction, with it's multiple signs, each showing different distances, degrees of difficulty, and spellings of "Tilley" Jane.

Many signs, different distances

From this junction, the uphill path became much steeper, and the packed snow track more slippery.  Deciding enough was enough, Catherine removed her skis and strapped them to her backpack.  She'd hoof it on foot from here.

Time to carry the skis!

With packed snow providing a firm base, Catherine trotted quickly ahead of Young and I (jokingly teasing as we labored uphill). 

Gliding through the burn zone

But the forest quickly cleared, and we entered the burn zone from the 2008 Gnarl Ridge fire.  Although the forests of bleak, gray trees were sobering, the bright side was this fire opened up fantastic view corridors, giving hikers glimpses of the adjacent foothills and mountain peaks. Best of all, the fire's aftermath left front-row, in-your-face views of Mt Hood the entire way.

Mt Hood makes an appearance

It was a brisk climb, alternating from moderately to super-steep.  Climbing each rise, Young and I would proclaim this hill to be the one where the Tilly Jane cabin was located.  But we'd reach the summit, only to find more snowy forest stretching ahead.  (Are we there yet?)

Spectacular scenery!

The Tilly Jane cabin is available for overnight group rentals.  As my friends and I trudged uphill, we met a group of Boy Scouts heading down, who'd spent the previous night at the cabin.  A couple of the boys were sliding down the trail in plastic sleds.  The group looked like they'd all had a great time.  What fun memories for these young men!

Clouds hugging the adjacent hills

The clear, sunny weather was nearly perfect for our hike/ski.  A strong wind higher up had us donning our jackets again, but uphill movement kept my friends and I toasty warm.  Now if only we could find that darned cabin.....

Catherine taking it in

Nearing lunchtime, everyone was getting tired and hangry.  Just when I thought we'd never see the Tilly Jane cabin, we topped the final hill, and there it was!

Finally the cabin!

Yahoo!  A sight for sore eyes!  After posing for a couple of group victory photos (achieved by setting my camera's timer and balancing it on my backpack), it was time for some rest and nourishment.

Victory photo at Tilly Jane cabin

Catherine showed us a cool way to rest your back while sitting in the snow.  Just cross your skis and plant the ends in the snow!  She really knows how to relax in style.

Catherine relaxes in style

We chose a spot in the sun, donned warm layers, and enjoyed our lunch break.  Sandwiches, hot tea, and ginger cookies were on the menu.

Panoramic break spot

With some incredible panoramic views from our lunch spot.

Our lunchtime view

The Tilly Jane Trail is a popular ski and snowshoe winter hike, and while we ate, my friends and I watched several people (and cute dogs) ascend this final hill to the cabin.

Watching the hikers and dogs approach

Then, with food in our tummies, it was time for the moment we'd all been waiting for.  The ski down!

Time to ski downhill!

All the way up I'd been longingly eyeing the fluffy new-fallen snow in the trees beside our trail.  Was it as light and powdery as it looked?  We were about to find out.

Catherine perfects her snowplow

Oh yeah!  The snow was divine.  Making tracks through the trees, Young, Catherine, and I whooped and hollered as we zipped down the first hill.

Young looking for untracked pow

Although Catherine was a bit tentative at first, she soon got into the rhythm of things and did great.  The only mishap was mine - after flying down a hill I hit a deep patch of fluff and promptly face-planted.  Luckily it was a soft landing, and there were no witnesses to my klutziness.  But getting back up necessitated taking off skis and backpack (I felt like a turtle, stuck on my back!).

Sunshine in the forest

Not only was the snow perfect for skiing, afternoon light illuminated the far hills, and the scenery was just as awesome as our trek up.  Conditions couldn't have been more perfect.

Scenery break

Reaching the last half mile back in the forest, our trail became a slippery tread of packed snow, forcing a prodigious use of edges and our best survival skiing skills.  Catherine, on cross country skis which are harder to control, cried uncle first, opting to continue on foot.  I finally did the same about a quarter mile from the trailhead.  Young was the only die-hard skier in our group to make it the entire way back on her boards.

Finding fresh tracks through the trees

Back at my car, poor Catherine was having a hard time releasing the buckles on her ski boots.  Brand new last year, she'd only used them a couple of times.  Young and I tried to help, but only succeeded in ratcheting them tighter.  Not wanting to shut off our friend's circulation, we abandoned our release efforts.  Catherine cheerfully joked she'd just have to wear her boots home.  Good thing I was driving!

More powder turns

On the drive home, once we had cell service, Catherine searched google for a video that would offer instructions about loosening her boots (a great idea I would've never thought of).  But the only video  she could find was in French.  Although it made for some entertaining moments, the video wasn't much help.  Then I suggested Catherine call the store where she bought her boots.  After a funny and somewhat embarrassing conversation (Catherine was such a good sport about it all) she got the needed advice, and freed her feet.  Hallelujah! 

Young zips past the signpost

A great day to be outside in the beautiful, snowy Mt Hood National Forest.  Lots of smiles and laughter with my friends.  Thanks Young and Catherine for such wonderful company!

Hike number 3 of 52 is in the books!  (Backcountry skiing counts too)

Early Season Skiing

 Why is it one of the smallest parts of your body has the potential for causing the most trouble?

Follow the skin track!

I thought my broken toe was finally healed.  I'd rested it and sworn off hiking for nearly a month.  Then in early November I slowly eased back, hiking two weekends in a row with no problems.  So when my friends Young and John wanted to take advantage of a rare mid-November snowfall, I didn't even question if my foot was ready for skiing.

Snow-covered beauty

An early season storm had deposited a thick layer of snow on Mt Hood.  Hungry for some turns, my friends and I eagerly dug out our ski gear and headed to Timberline Lodge one sunny Saturday morning.

Cool morning clouds

The sun had just risen over the adjacent Cascade mountains as Young and I attached climbing skins to our skis and began the long, slow uphill shuffle to the top of Timberline's Palmer ski lift.  A bank of unusual cotton-ball shaped clouds covered the morning sky above Mt Hood.

Looking back at a snow-covered Timberline Lodge

And the view behind us of snow-covered Timberline Lodge tucked under Mt Jefferson's shadow was fantastic. 

Young and the mountains

After attending to some first-day gear adjustments at the truck, John quickly caught up to Young and I.  Together we followed a well-worn track in the snow heading towards the Magic Mile chairlift's terminus and the mid-mountain Silcox Hut.  A mellow ascent of 1000 feet in one mile, it provided an opportunity to prepare unused muscles for the steep climb to come.

Silcox Hut

Reaching the Silcox Hut, Young and I took a quick snack break and admired the view at 7000 feet.  Snow-covered foothills spread out across the horizon.

My skiing companions

Battered by strong winds, the snow here was stiff and icy.  Frozen ridges rippled across the white surface.  One large rock was engulfed by ice crystals in the shape of a wave.

Frozen wave

Now the tough climbing began!  Following the ice-crusted towers of the Palmer lift, our path would now rise 1500 feet in a little over half a mile.

Ready for the steep climb! (photo by Young)

Skiing up a steeper slope required placing more force on the ball of my foot and bending my toes.  As I raised my heels to gain better traction, I felt a sharp twinge in my injured (but I thought was now healed) toe.

Line of backcountry skiers

Oh, that didn't feel right at all.....the next uphill kick brought another stab of pain.  I remembered that sensation.  It was the same feeling I'd experienced when I'd broken the toe hiking.

John by a lift tower

In an attempt to mitigate further damage, I tried putting my weight fully into the big toe (the injured digit was the one next to my small toe).  That seemed to keep the aches at bay for the moment, so I continued my uphill shuffle.

The long uphill slog

Skinning up the Palmer is a popular early-season activity, and there was no shortage of backcountry skiers that morning.  It appeared everyone was hoping to get in some conditioning for the season ahead.  I'm very slow, so pretty much every skier up there passed me by.

Amazing scenery behind

But one man, shuffling uphill on a pair of skinny cross country skis, slowed and began chatting with me.  He claimed he was having a tough time and wanted to take things easier.  I didn't mind the company.  John, being in fantastic shape (despite recovering from a recent cold) was far ahead and Young, starting to show symptoms of John's illness, was struggling behind me.

Palmer midway loading station

The cross-country ski man and I followed the snowcat track paralleling the Palmer chairlift's ice-crusted towers.  The warm sun began melting their icy coating, and every once and awhile a few chunks of ice would come crashing down with a roar.  Certainly kept things exciting, to say the least!

Lots of folks heading uphill

Although this fall I'd kept up my fitness with swimming, weight lifting, and cycle classes, the steep climb still had me gasping for air and pausing frequently to rest burning leg muscles.

Ice-crusted lift towers

After what seemed an eternity, the top of Palmer's lift house slowly came into view.  I spotted John waiting on top.  He shouted encouragement as I shuffled the final distance up the cat track to where he stood.  Yahoo!  I'd made it! 

Lunch break at the top of Palmer

John and I spotted Young far below.  After another 20 minutes she came straggling up the final incline, ready for a break.  John shoveled out a seat in the snow, and the three of us took a relaxing break, enjoying snacks and hot tea.  I stretched out my aching foot.  It wasn't pretty, but my toe had survived the uphill climb.  But would it behave for the trip back down?

Young photographs the mountain

After a nice long rest, taking in the lovely blue-sky day, and watching a steady stream of backcountry skiers reach the top of Palmer and beyond (some continued higher up the mountain) John declared it was time to remove our climbing skins and head back down.  The moment of truth had arrived.....

Time to ski down!

The snow, pounded and packed by the wind, was hard and crunchy.  Turns did not come easy.  Tentatively, I tried a telemark turn, only to be greeted by a stabbing pain in the toe.  Nope, telemark turns were out.  I'd have to "survival ski" downhill using alpine turns instead.

Here comes John

The trip downhill was brutal.  Not only was the snow hard and icy, we found rocks littering the slopes below the Silcox Hut.  Trying to baby my toe, I skied very conservatively, my hesitations causing several wipeouts.  Near the very bottom, we encountered a thick blanket of heavy snow.  Unable to muscle my way through, I flew over my ski tips, into an elegant face-plant.  Watching me flounder in the thick snow trying to get up, wiping off my sunglasses, and knocking snow off my helmet gave Young a good laugh (and of course some great photos too - what are friends for?)

Wipeout aftermath

Back at the truck, I gratefully removed my boot.  Trying to walk to the lodge, my foot rebelled in pain.  Yep, I was pretty sure I'd rebroken the toe.  An apre-ski beer and several of Young's ibuprofen helped take the edge off until I could get home and ice it.

Dodging rocks

So now I'm back to square one....no long distance hikes for a few weeks.  The month of December has been dry thus far, keeping the mountain snow away, so I've not been tempted to do any more skiing.

If it was a large bone broken or some other major injury, I think it would be easier to take a break from my outdoor activities.  But when the damage is limited to a small toe (and an insignificant one at that) and the rest of me is fine, I find it very difficult to lay off entirely.  But rest I will, because I don't want to miss ski season. 

(I know you're all tired of hearing about my stupid toe, so hopefully this will be the last time I have to write about it!) 

Glade and Alpine Ski Trails

Although I've been skiing a ton at the resorts this winter, my backcountry ski gear has been sorely neglected.  This past President's Day I decided to change that and revisit a trail I'd done over the same weekend in 2014, the Glade Ski Trail.

Trailhead is at the end of this road

At the base of Mt Hood lies the tiny village of Government Camp.  Consisting of condos, ski shops, and cute vacation chalets, many trails fan out into the woods above this charming hamlet.  A few ski trails connect Govy (as the locals affectionately call their town) with Timberline Ski Area.  Two of the most well-known are the Glade and Alpine trails.

LOTS of snow this year!

Although I'd skied up and then down the Glade three years ago, the Alpine was a "new to me" ski trail.  I decided my plan for the day would be to ski up the Glade and then locate and take a trip down the Alpine trail, and return to my starting point via the Crosstown Trail.  A nifty six-mile loop and good bit of exercise for a snowy February morning.

Glade Trailhead

Temps were hovering right around the freezing mark when I parked my car along Govy's main drag and hoofed it three blocks up a residential street leading to the Glade's trailhead.  Giant snowbanks lining the road were evidence of this year's colossal snowfall.  Some homes had barely a slot tunneled into the snow to park their vehicles, while decks and rooftops sported thick blankets of the white stuff.

Ready to start

Heavy wet snow pelted my face as I attached climbing skins to skis and prepared for the day's journey.  After a couple of photos, I shouldered my backpack and was off.

Easy to follow, the Glade parallels an old clearing used for the short-lived Mt Hood Skiway, a unique transportation system in the 1950's that used regular city buses suspended on cables to shuttle skiers from Government Camp to Timberline Lodge.

Action selfie

The heavy, wet snow made for some slow going.  Globs of snow began sticking to my climbing skins, necessitating frequent stops to clear the undersides of my skis.  The warm temps had me sweating in no time.  I made more stops to shed clothing and of course, take photos.  One time I even laid my camera on the snow and used the self-timer to get a few action shots.

Uphill climb through the forest

About halfway, frustration mounting due to the constant sticky snow underfoot, I finally dug a block of skin wax out of my backpack and applied it to the climbing skins.  I'd bought the stuff many years ago, and this was the first time I'd ever used it.  I'm happy to report the stuff worked.  It made the going much easier thereafter, so I guess it was a good investment.

I spot the ski lift

The trail alternated between being mildly steep to navigating a few sharp uphills.  A couple of older cross country skiers passed me (I swear I'm the slowest uphill skier ever!) and I pumped them for information on where to find the Alpine Trail.

And then, just when I thought the trail would go on forever, I spotted a lift tower of Timberline's Stormin' Norman chairlift.  Hooray!

Entrance to Timberline Ski Area

The previous trip, I'd continued up Timberline's ski runs another 1000 vertical feet to it's famous lodge.  But not really wanting to dodge crowds of downhill skiers, I decided today's uphill trip would end at the ski area boundary.

There's the sign!

So I stood in the snow just beyond the rope, changed into a warmer jacket, donned my helmet, and peeled climbing skins off my skis.  Several skiers zipped by, a few stopping to inquire what I was doing.  When I told them I'd skied up from Govy, they were all impressed.

Beginning of the Alpine Trail

Up at this higher elevation the snow wasn't as wet and instead blanketed the ground in a soft layer.  I was happy for this - my gloves and hat were soaked from the wet snow-rain (or as I like to call it, "snain")

Ready for some downhill turns!

I was a little apprehensive about finding the Alpine Trail.  The other skiers I'd met directed me to travel down Timberline's Kruser run for a short distance, and I'd see it.  So I joined the other folks on this busy slope.  Not keen on having to retrace my steps uphill, I kept an eagle eye out for the sign.   And, just as I was told, it didn't take but a minute and I spotted a wide clearing with another sign.  Yahoo!

Lovely path through the woods

After two hours of grueling uphill sliding, it was time to reap my reward!  The newly-fallen snow looked wonderful.  I couldn't wait to sink my ski edges into it. 

Snow-covered fir tree

But these local trails were not groomed, and I found out quickly that the underlying snow was uneven and crusty.  After hitting a couple of surprise bumps and wiping out, I decided to slow down.  Cautiously sliding short distances, I made my downhill trip last a bit longer. 

Tons of moss

That was okay - the adjacent forests were quite lovely.  One section was lined with interesting moss-draped trees.  Another stretch featured a bunch of cute firs, flocked with a coating of winter white.  I felt like I was in a Christmas tree farm.

Challenging portion of the Alpine Trail

The Alpine Trail was steeper than the Glade and a few of the narrow, uneven segments were quite challenging.  With better snow conditions, I would have had no problems, but today's crunchy snow caused me to take it easy (self preservation!)

Time to put the skins back on my skis

Even with my slow downhill pace, I reached the bottom in about 15 minutes.  The trail's terminus met up with one of tiny Summit Ski area's groomed runs.  After the Alpine uneven terrain, it felt good to glide on a groomer.  But now I kept my eyes peeled for the Crosstown Trail, the final leg of my journey.

Another action selfie

The Crosstown Trail was even rougher than the Alpine.  Mainly a snowshoe route connecting Govy's ski trails, it meandered through the trees behind some vacation homes.  Lumpy snow trampled by hundreds of snowshoers, navigating the track was a challenge.  After a couple of uphills had me sliding backwards, I decided to put climbing skins back on my skis.

Pretty creek

But the scenery was wonderful.  More snowy trees and a cute little creek to cross.  I placed my camera on a tree stump to get a few more action shots, and was surprised by a family of snowshoers, who graciously offered to take my picture.

"Skiville, Oregon"

Ending back at the Glade trailhead, the snowfall was again bordering on slushy rain.  Now soaking wet from being out in the weather all morning, I decided the day's journey was done.  Time to change clothes at my car and find a hot drink in town.

While walking back through Govy's streets, I passed by a cute little cabin.  A sign above the upper door proclaimed it "Skiville, Oregon."  I kind of liked the moniker....maybe Government Camp should consider a new name?

Six miles traveled, and 1000 feet of elevation gain - a great day to be up on the mountain!