Stoke. Bitterroot nostalgia.

[Bug]

After I had been out of Missoula for a few years, I went back for a visit and to see how the skiing was. I contacted Jack Tuholske and Rick Torre. They were good friends and Rick introduced me to Jack back when I was working on the Badger Two Medicine Project. We met down in Hamilton at Rickie’s house and pulled out a map. I casually made the comment that I would prefer to ski a ridge that I had not already skied. Rick and Jack quickly agreed that that would be fun and decided that they did not want to ski a ridge that they had already skied either. After about 45 minutes of haggling and story telling about what each ridge was like to ski, we finally figured out that there was only one ridge in the entire east side of the Bitterroots that none of us had ever skied. The access was easy to figure out. The road went up to the base of the ridge and ended abruptly on private land. Motorized traffic was prohibited but foot traffic was OK. It was a good spot since we could ski either side of the ridge and come out to the car.

It was the usual Bitterroot trudge up through ponderosa and doug fir to about 6000’ where the lodgepole started. The snow was building rapidly as we moved upward. It was a good year. One of the last I remember in the Bitterroot, at least that I made it into. As we approached 7000’ the timber was thick and brushy. We could not remove our skiis because the snow was too deep and we could not get through the trees easily because they were to close together. It was a tough 1000 feet to 8000 where we topped out on a nice rock outcrop looking up Big Creek and Bear Creek and up and down the Bitterroot range. The clouds were hovering around 10,000 and we were getting snow flurries once in awhile. The temp was about 15 degrees with a 20 mph wind gusting to 30 at times. In short, the powder was prime, deep, fluffy, goose down, bliss. But the ridge was impassable for 1000 feet. There was no way we were going to waste the best part. We looked down Big creek and quickly identified a dreadful drop into ragtag cliffs and uncertain terrain. Down the other way, into Bear creek, was just plain, uncertain terrain. Easy choice. We cut through the dog hair piss fir for about fourty yards. I was in the lead and frankly, I was a little perturbed with the way the dog hair was blocking my every move. I finally broke out at the very top of an open slope of about 45 degrees that went down about 600 feet. Ya babeeee. We dug a pit and came up with four foot dogwoods under a three foot fluff. We’re talking heaven here. Since I was company, I got the first line. The rhythm was quick and the bounce was soft. It was over all too quick. I traversed into the trees and watched as Jack came down the line twenty feet to my right. Then Rickie twenty feet to the left. We were breathing hard, sending clouds of steam into quickly clearing skies. But we were on the north slope. It actually got colder as we descended. At the bottom of each run, we found a traverse to another run. All of them were 500 feet or more. All of them, bottomless powder. We traded first descents all the way down until we broke into a wide open valley that turned sharply right into the main canyon and mellowed out to lower intermediate skiing. We just cruised for a long ways. Side by side, carving long cruising GS turns down into Bear creek on a bright blue day. Across the valley was a buttress none of us had noticed before. It looked like about four pitches and was getting full-on sun. Two wide streaks were bare and dry except for a little dripping from minor ledges here and there. We skied to the base of it and found the trail out. In about 30 minutes, we were at the car and heading back into Hamilton.

I stayed down in Hamilton at Rickie’s house so we could put together a rack and gear. The next morning dawned clear and cold. It was about 10 degrees. We parked at the Bear creek trailhead and skied up our tracks to the beginning of our wall. There we dropped our skiis and postholed about 400 yards up to the base of our line. I lead the first pitch. It went up through some ledges and zig-zagged around a couple chossy looking overhangs to a nice two person ledge. Rickie came up and continued up a blankish face for about 100 feet getting wires and tri-cams in pockets. I went up from there under a dripping overhang about thirty feet right and then straight up just right of a major drip coming off the top of the wall. Rickie lead up through broken face for a solid 130 feet and topped out at a lone ponderosa that had a pine needle bed at the base all warmed up in the sun and a sixteen inch bole for an anchor. The temp was about 55 degrees in the direct sun. The climbing was consistent 5.6 with 5.7 here and there. Since it was about twenty degrees when we started, it was the perfect grade. We called it ‘Golden Showers’ due to the dripping.

We Sent up a cloud from the base of the Ponderosa and soaked up the last rays of December sun before it dropped behind the Bitterroot divide.

It doesn’t get any better than that.

[slothrop]

Suh-weet. Nice to have a place like that to go back to.

[specialed]

In the spring of '98 on a warm clear day after the roads opened up in the B-root we drove up to St. Mary's TH and hiked up the peak. Ate some lunch at the summit, then skiied down the middle of the huge bowl behind St. Mary's across a partially frozen tairn. Continuing north into the Kootenai drainage we found natural half pipe for another 1000' vert. Finally, after some sketchy turns on wet snow on rock we began a heinous down shwack to the creek. About 3500' of hero corn in all. After an extreme log crossing across a roaring creek with tele boots on we hiked out the canyon past the sport routes to a stashed truck.

 

One of the best days of many I had in the B-root.

[Lambone]

My first day skiing in Montana (Beartooth Pass in October) my party triggered a HUGE avalange.

 

we did everything wrong you possibly could, including leaving the shovels in the car. Launched off a cornice onto a windloaded slope....2 ft of fresh onto of summer ice. Skied right down into a huge run-out zone death trap where we watched eachother fall down the mountain, one after another. Decided to ski the slope again and hiked up near the cliffband on the side.

 

Halfway up the entire slope released. We hugged the rocks and missed the slide by literally 6 inches. Not hiking straight up the middle of the slop was the one smart decision we made that day...which probly saved our lives.

 

Oh-what I wouldn't give to be young and dumb again.

[lunger]

thx to last couple days, the 'roots have a fresh coat of snow. am there now enjoying a little wet climbing and snow hiking. this afternoon hope to catch a weather window for some craggin'. this place rocks.