Buck Mountain North Face - Newc Couloir

The awesome North Face of Buck Mountain. The Newc Couloir is right of the center rib.After something like 35 years of climbing and skiing in the mountains I've been reminded over and over that the best outings are the ones filled with the most uncertainty. Sure, heading out on a typical Teton powder day is filled with anticipation of fun but the conclusion is nearly certain most days… cruiser skin tracks, blower powder and, generally, good times. Tons of fun but minimal adventure and little uncertainty. 

This past weekend was a stunning contrast to a typical Teton ski day. Super warm temps had turned the lower elevation snow pack to shit. One of the region's classic lines had tried to kill one of our own mountaineering celebrities. Add to this a slightly reluctant partner (new dad, over-worked, etc.) and the mood at the trailhead was skeptical at best. Aaron, the third of our crew, was game for anything as usual, conditions be damned. 

It was Christian's idea to take on the Newc Couloir on the North Face of Buck Mountain. He'd been there before and had been turned around short of the top. He had unfinished business. I had never skied anything on that side of the mountain but I think about it every time I see those lines (Bubble Fun and Newc Couloirs), which is pretty damned often given their visible position from the park road. Looking at them straight on from the summit of the Grand Teton you can't help but salivate over their aesthetics. 

Turns out that Christian was half hoping I would bail. He still loves to get after it even though his plate is full right now. But I showed my face at Pearl Street Bagels promptly at 6:30 am with Aaron right behind me. We were going. The forecast was not great but the morning window before the storm hinted at an opportunity to get it done. At least we could see the summits as we drove north to the Bradley Lake trailhead.

Off we goStepping onto the snow next to the parking lot didn't help the mood much. It was warm and the snow was nearly isothermic. We were the only ones there. Cynical laughter followed and off we went. I think it was about 40 degrees. Perfect.

We scooted across Bradley Lake and into the woods. I went ahead searching out the old out-track, finding the going reasonable enough. Occasionally there was a crust in the clearings but in the trees there'd been no freeze. Once out in the open the true impact of the warm-up was apparent. Most of the steep lines off off the east end of 25 Short had run big. Same goes for the north side of Avalanche with Four Hour Couloir emptying its bowels into the canyon. What a mess.

I knew the debris wouldn't help the psyche of my partners so I pushed up higher to the bench below Turkey Chute. I was scheming, of course. It's hard to turn around when a party member is ahead just out of ear shot. Still, I waited there knowing that we might pull the plug. But Turkey Chute hadn't slid and the wind up high was blowing snow around the ridges. The three of us agreed these were good signs. We pushed onward.

The North Face looming aheadThe snow surface solidified shortly after we got going again and this seemed to confirm the merits of our decision. The wind blasted us as we traversed below Buck's North Face. The wind always howls here. At least the temps were mild. We arrived at a moat just below the couloir in about 2.5 hours and put the spikes on. The weather seemed to be holding. Time to rodeo.

The booting beginsI still had no idea what I was getting into. This was evident with each step. My partners plunged their ice axes into the steep slope like mountaineers typically do and I was scratching around with my rando race poles. Yeah, I know… stupid. Really, I'm a climber, an old-school mountaineer. Honest. But I guess all this running around in Lycra lately, training on silly, skinny skis has clouded my early morning judgement. How steep could it be? Plenty steep, it turns out. 

Although I looked at pictures of our objective the night before, I never got a read on the gradient of this little gem that was about to swallow us.  For those of you pondering a similar adventure let me  say for the record that it's at least 50 degrees up there. Probably more. I don't want to sandbag anyone because I'm not good at judging those things though. I'm sure someone has geeked out up there with an inclinometer and knows exactly. Feel free to comment.

Feeling kinda steepBut it was steep enough for all of us to admit out loud at various points along the way that we were scared. None of us claim to be extreme skiers. We're just powder skiing alpinists, really. There are plenty of folks in this town that'll laugh at us, I'm sure. But for us, this was serious shit. Making that first turn was going to give me sphincter cramps. Climbing the route "sans piolet," as Christian said at one point with a snicker, wasn't helping my comfort level. 

We spent about 1.5 hours kicking steps up to our high point. The couloir chokes down in the last 100 feet or so and isn't really skiable right now. There was enough snow to climb, but we decided not to. Not that it was an easy decision. We toyed with stashing packs and skis and topping out. But the storm was coming and we didn't fancy getting hit by spindrift avalanches on the way down. The face was already shedding these and it wasn't even snowing hard yet.

But really, we were just thinking about how scary the turns were going to be. We wanted to get on with it. At least that's what I was thinking. So, we dug a little ledge on the steep, narrow slope and geared up for the business.

Christian Beckwith getting ready to put skis onFor better or worse, I was ready first. It felt good to side slip below the others and get ready to throw the first turn. We all laughed afterwards at how stupid this aspect of the sport is. You haven't made one turn all day and then the first one is in a you-fall-you-die zone. Great. But throw it I did and, although not pretty, it was successful in dropping me several feet to my next one. I side-slipped through a narrow section and then linked several more turns before my quads urged me to stop. Okay, now it was scary but manageable.

I stopped away from the falling debris to watch Aaron and Christian get what they came for and shoot a few photos of the mayhem. We all made the same careful, deliberate turns, understanding the consequences of missing one. Aaron Nydam in the grooveCB getting what he came forAside from side-slipping the narrow upper section we made turns the whole way down. Near the bottom there's a rock step with a 60-degree tongue of snow through it. Going up, it worried me. Downward bound now, we easily side-slipped through this section with the gusting wind driving the slough back up in our faces. 

Some visibility would be nice about now. Aaron waiting for clearance.Once on the apron we enjoyed the final few turns before regrouping at our gear stash. We all had wide grins as we savored the sense of relief from having descended without incident. The return trip down Avalanche Canyon wasn't nearly as bad as we feared. The supportive crusts were gone but the old out track was holding up just enough to allow an easy exit. 

Back at the car we laughed at our good fortune having pulled off something none of were sure would happen 7 hours earlier. Once again, doubt had played a key role in creating great mountain adventure. We might be getting too old for this shit but we keep coming back for more. - Brian     

Comments

[Sam Page]

Sweet article, Brian! So . . . what do you do about relieving yourself in those couloirs?

[sewa mobil]

Nice article, thanks for the information