The Bonningtons

166 - Kick ass
168 - Oh awesome
170 - Cool

As I stepped onto the scale over the winter I was amazed at how my scrawny frame was overcoming its limitations and finally packing on the muscle. It was only when the scales hit 172 that I wondered how I could be gaining so much strength, given that I wasn't really being very active. Wait a minute. Could my dad's quip be coming true: "your thirties are when a narrow waistline and a broad outlook change places."

So I put down the Cheetos and I went on a crash diet, and when James called me up to go for a 4 day ski tour in the Bonningtons, I leapt on the opportunity. I had never been on a winter traverse longer than 2 days, and I wasn't feeling all that fit given the low number of ski days this year, but I figured I really needed to go outside. Besides, it seemed well within my capabilities. Forty five kilometers with 3 huts along the way meant a mere 10km a day. Tour for a couple of hours with the full pack, toss it in the hut, and then go do some lightweight laps.

The team was full of very fit dudes. James, whose legendary fitness needs no introduction. Luke, who came along in Revelstoke for a 17km, 1750 vertical meter tour as his rest day after 26 days in a row of skiing, and Andrew, of similar fitness levels and an appetite to taunt Michael Phelps.



The hard men decided this short tour was a giggle and required many luxuries including cans of beer, whisky in bottles, guitars, and fresh vegetables. I went with my ultralight backpack with dehydrated food and left behind the hut booties to save space. Abandoning the booties was my one regret for this trip.

The huts were rather challenging to find, usually buried deep in the snow, surrounded by trees, and in rather indistinct locations. But with the help of an altimeter, previous parties' skin tracks, and the occasional shameful GPS use, we found them quite quickly.



The touring itself often followed great ridge lines. The wind blasted trees on the ridges made beautiful snow sculptures.



I found the travel more challenging than I was expecting. As usual in the mountains, it's all about the vertical distance, not the horizontal. Day 2 had us following a ridge, which was far more beautiful and less effort than descending and ascending valleys, but still saw about 1500m of elevation. Luckily, by then I had given up attempting to keep pace with the elite athletes, and plodded steadily along in the back at my own pokey pace, resulting in a lot less exhaustion and suffering than day 1. As a huge treat, the final descent towards the cabin had unbelievable snow conditions for some exceptional turns in perfect powder. Like floating? falling? flying? gliding? Not sure why powder skiing is so magical.



Sometimes while grinding up steep mountains certain songs get stuck in your head. Or more often, just a snippet of a song. This time, it was "working your biceps".



More ridge walking, skiing, drinking, singing, bootpacking up a knife-edge ridge in a whiteout with howling winds, and a long sweet descent back to the car rounded off a great trip. Showering after 4 days of sweating was pretty damn sweet.







Thanks to James for lugging around a camera. All these photos are his.

Ski touring in Roger's Pass

Last week saw me up in Revelstoke to visit with friends and catch my first turns of the season.

Though bossy, a plant murderer, and a little crazy, I rather liked the new cat.



This trip was planned months in advance, but by sheer luck, a weather window opened with endless blue skies and mellow avalanche conditions.
Seeing as I hadn't been on skis yet this season, James suggested a mellow warm up tour of Young's Peak. Along the Illecillewaet valley, climb up onto the glacier, summit Young's peak, ski down the Seven Step of Paradise, and ski out the Asulkan. An absolutely amazing tour with great views of Mt Sir Donald. 18km, 1750m vertical, 8 hours.









Then next day we headed out for the Little Sifton traverse. James assured me that it would be a much easier tour, what with it only being 10km. But I was not fooled. With 1600m of vertical I knew it would be another long day. Perhaps also due to the fact that we couldn't abandon our warm sunny lunch spot.

Winter biking

James arrived on the Coast to do some mid-winter avalanche field work. And what better way to spend your day off than mountain biking?
We hoped Ned's Atomic Dustbin would be in good condition, but it turned out to be in spectacular condition aside from some very saturated wood. Every shuttler and his dog was out on the trail, taking their bikes out for the first time in months, with much carnage all over the trail. I lent James Freezerburn and thus rode Butter Smooth for the day. She handled the trail beautifully and made me feel guilty that I had negelected her so much that the bottom bracket was almost fully seized at the start of the day.



After the ride I commented what a full experience Ned's is; the long grind up Old Buck trail, the sweet fast downhill thrill of Ned's, and then the long technical cross country escape across Bridal Path to return to the car. James agreed, and suggested we should do another lap. Fuck Revelstoke fitness.

After some lunch, I somehow felt inspired to do a smaller second lap, so we nipped over to Fromme for a lap of Pipeline. My helmet-cam ran out of batteries on a steep rocky technical section and beeped alarmingly to alert me of this fact. Stupidly I started thinking about the camera, rather than how I was going to navigate the u-turn at the end of the steep rocks and took a fun ride over the handlebars. If only the camera had lasted 5 seconds longer there would have been some great footage. Pipeline felt like a meaner winter trail than Ned's, though perhaps that was just my exhaustion.

An excellent day of sunny mid-winter riding through the lush coastal forests in Vancouver. Any loyal blog readers (and you must be loyal to bother to check back for postings) should come visit, borrow a bike, and come out with me for a ride.