verb (used with object)
1. to make a move that blocks ones intended result; 2. to muddle or botch
1. nonesense, rubbish, fake
1. an exclamation of annoyance
Why am I defining a word with THREE VOWELS?!?! Good question.
It’s because The Admiral, ahem, Ben Peters, decided he it would be a worthy play to complete his banagrams (freeform scrabble) board for lock up the win.
Maybe I should back up even further.
A large crew, 12 or so, decide we’d had enough of the dismal snow year the Wasatch had presented us, and we’d do what skiers had been doing for generations. We’d head north and go backcountry skiing. Kate, Ben’s girlfriend, knew just the place. A sleepy, yurt in the Sawtooth Mountains North of Sun Valley, Idaho. They’d been getting the Northern snows and these Wasatch powder pigs were hankering to feel fresh snow under our feet again.
We set forth, a 6ish hour drive, a rainy night car camping, and a stop for a heaping breakfast at Uncle Perry’s (not to be confused with the real Perry), brought us to Stanley, Idaho where we’d being our adventure.
We were well prepared, we each were responsible for cooking one meal for the 4 days that we’d be in the backcountry. It was a treat to cook only once, and enjoy the succulent creations that people made for their meal. It also meant, that with just a single meal to cook for, people were going for the gusto. For Taco night, I had 10 avacados, a dozen tomatoes, 100 tortilla shells, 5 flank steaks, a whole bottle of Valentina, 4 lbs of cheddar cheese, and others. I know that may not sound like much, but it was just barely enough to quench the hunger of this hard charging group.
In addition to the monsterous load of food, Ben, Perry and I decided it would be wise to bring 6 beers, per person, per day, for the three of us. Plus a stock of wine and whiskey. This led to a sled filled with 150 beers, a few well stocked dinners, and some other random things. It must have tipped the scales near 120lbs. We harnessed ourselves up and departed from the car.
In this image you can see me in the back struggling to pack all of our shit into the sled. In the foreground you can observe the growling wild animal we’ve named as Perry.
It was with great effort that our group of 12 hauled packs and a sled the size of a Wooly Mammoth – eventually, after 6 miles of slogging we reached the yurt, and we’re over-joyed to find evergreen forests and alpine meadows filled with powder snow. We quickly cached our gear inside the yurt, got our of our wet gear, replaced it with dry clothes and started our ascent towards the powder.
Towards the top, the clouds started clearing out, and we realized we were in for a beautiful evening of skiing powder.
We quickly realized we we’re in for a treat, as it cleared out and we started up through the forest.
Across the valley it was easy to see, we weren’t even going to scratch the surface during this four day trip.
Not only was the location beautiful, but our crew was too! We we’re skinning 12 deep. It sure didn’t take long track out a powder triangle (a long lost cousin, of the real triangle, the one used in all sorts of magic musical sounds). Our crew was:
Ben and Kate – the fearless organizers, trail breakers, and cookers of breakfast burritos that would make the clan from Molca Salsa quiver.
Perry – the wild stallion of of the deep powder meadows of the great untamed mountains of the western half of the untamed sugarhouse neighborhoods.
Kim – known for unbridled smiles as she dips a tele-skiing knee into the powder, she’s also an expert at spicy vegetarian curries. note: I do not endorse not eating animals.
Carolyn – one of the strongest skiers I know, a real natural talent for wearing bright clothes, and she has an infectious enthusiasm for anything outside.
Anson – if you think Ben’s hair is crazy, you haven’t seen Ansons’! Anson’s a professional, at a lot of things, but mostly at taking his absurd nordic skiing abilities and transferring them over to downhill skiing. He’s also been known to stoke a fire, and supply the yurt with a whole season of chopped wood.
Toby – a bit like Wilson in Tool Time, you grow accustomed to only seeing half of his face at a time – that’s because Toby is constantly striving to get the creative shot – you see Toby’s a professional photographer and puts food on the table by making the rest of us look good. One of the highlights of the trip was watching Carolyn chop wood for the Patagucci catalog.
Tom and Erin – the dynamic duo of Boise, known for speed ascents, their good nature, and adherance to the rules of banagrams, delicious cooking, and ability to dig some of the deepest avalanche pits I’ve ever seen!
Noah and Laura – the last, but certainly not least, Noah and Laura are expert carbonara makers, huge snowball trundlers, and funny as they come!
Our team, plus wild animal, reached the top of the powder triangle and started the process of changing over for the downhill.
God damn, it’s about time we started going downhill!
but not before we dug a 4M pit and we didn’t even hit bottom:
I’m sure you’re saying, “ENOUGH ALREADY, give me the pictures of the skiing.”
Anson took the first dibs, and launched himself down through the pow.
It was all pow, but that didn’t stop us from testing the waters and clearing the way with the whippet.
Carolyn was ready to schuss after helping Anson and his saucer sled up to the yurt!
Phew – after all of that skinning, miles with the big ass sled, it felt good to be skiing. We decided to take another lap in this beautiful terrain.
Read about the author: Porter Haney