The Chugach Ski Mountaineering in Alaska By Shane Orchard
R
ecent discussions in New Zealand on the future of alpinism noted that motivation to push new developments has been fueled by the knowledge that plenty of unexplored grade 6 lines remain. The situation is similar for those keen on downhill adventures. Even one big line safely ridden could translate into the most committed, exposed and ultimately rewarding descent of a lifetime. As for venues, there’s no place with more of these than Alaska’s Chugach mountain range. It’s little wonder then that Alaska has been host to many defining moments for the world’s best big mountain skiers and riders. For at least two decades the Chugach has been the place to test limits and explore new lines. Chugach occupies such a unique place in global ski mountaineering because of two oft-said words: steep and deep. The Chugach is one place where finding these together is no problem at all.
The Geography of The Chugach The Chugach Mountains produce steep snow situations, second to none. The Chugach Mountains are a 500-kilometre chain of coastal mountains bordering the Gulf of Alaska and stretching from Anchorage and the Kenai Mountains east towards Canada. Towards 50 o v e r s e a s c l i m b i n g
the east the range merges with the more massive Wrangell Mountains and the St Elias Range to become the coastal mountains of British Columbia. Only a few roads exist through these mountains, making for an almost unbroken wilderness of peaks. For the most part air or sea access provide the only reasonable options for potential visitors. Because of the grandeur of the nearby ranges, the Chugach Mountains do not look overly impressive for their size. That said, the higher peaks are fairly serious propositions for mountaineers. Given their close proximity to Anchorage it is hard to imagine why none of the 10,000-foot peaks (3050-ish metres) had been climbed until the summer of 1939. But read on! It was in 1939 that Mt Marcus Baker received its first ascent, and Bradford Washburn’s account of the expedition provides a good insight into the realities of the area1. Washburn had been studying the problems around accessibility for at least two years, using a series of aerial flights and photographs. Once Washburn had identified the best approach route, the next deterrent to his planned exploration was the ‘unbelievably terrible weather which sweeps the slopes of these mountains every day of the entire year’. With this sort of recommendation it is easy
to see that accomplishing anything in the Chugach should be regarded as a success! The largest peaks are concentrated around the heavily convoluted coastline of Prince William Sound, which straddles the 60th parallel. This geographical barrier effectively isolates the Sound from adjacent areas. Whereas the Alaskan interior has a continental climate that is typified by drier weather and extreme temperature ranges, the Chugach has a maritime climate featuring copious precipitation. At sea level this may form as rain most of the year, yet the moist air soon cools as it rises over the steep mountains, dropping prodigious amounts of snow in the process. Good positioning and timing can be extremely useful in the Chugach. Inclement weather is the norm and to travel extensively here requires intimate knowledge of the patterns amongst many subtle microclimates. The big glaciers in particular lose much less water to evaporation than rocky and vegetated areas and also reflect incoming sunlight. Consequently clouds may be fewer or less dense in glaciated areas. However, pockets of cooler air over the ice form local high pressure systems, and the resultant glacier breezes are well known to sailors and ski mountaineers. These glacier breezes produce cold, foggy and generally inhospitable conditions, and play havoc with a ski mountaineer’s confidence that conditions will be better elsewhere. The location of the ‘elsewhere’ in this story is the famous Chugach beast known as the ‘sucker hole’. Such small gaps in the cloud can often be seen in places but they have a nasty habit of vanishing just when you need one! With a snowfall of 600-plus inches per year—over 15 metres—the Chugach is a veritable snow factory and that’s perfect for one other thing: glaciers. The glaciology is a big part of the Chugach environment. 21 Glacial movement here is very dynamic, in part responding to the magnitude of accumulation and ablation processes. To remain stable these glaciers must move much more snow from their accumulation areas to the ablation zones than colder interior glaciers. The result is exceedingly steep and active glaciers, not dissimilar to those in parts of New Zealand. Chugach glaciers also produce lots of ice. In drier climates the process of turning firn into glacier ice takes hundreds of years, but the Chugach glaciers convert snow into ice in only a few years. High levels of rain and meltwater, which speed up the densification process, plus the healthy pressures of
continually replenished new snow are some of the reasons behind this astounding difference. The firn line extends much lower on the coastal side of the Chugach range because the winter snowfall is much heavier here than in the interior. The result of all of this is Prince William Sound’s world famous tidewater glaciers. Though some glaciers in the area are retreating, the glacial process in the Chugach ranges is far from dead, with at least nine tidewater glaciers currently advancing as well. All up, there is little chance that snow will be lacking in these parts. So the potential for epic snow adventures is high. As for steepness, it’s also likely to o v e r s e a s c l i m b i n g 51
the planet. Another part of the Chugach equation is the quality of the snow there, and it is by no means perfect. But with just a single clear night, a surface of slabby wind-packed snow will be transformed into a sparkly crystalline layer of completely non-cohesive snow. This super-fast powder surface skis like a dream. With disturbance, though, this powder turns into another famous Alaskan beast, the free-running sluff. Together, these ingredients make for some pretty unique challenges that will spice up even a modest ski mountaineering expedition. To give you a taste of what might be in store, here’s my friend Tom Burt’s mental checklist of hazards he had in mind prior to dropping off Cordova Peak. 1. Avalanche on the summit icecap 2. Icecliffs below the summit 3. Spotting the correct spine onto to the face 4. Conditions on the spine 5. Escaping the sluff runnels 6. Avalanche on the face 7. The lower cliff band 8. The bergshrund 9. The glacial holes at the bottom 10. Tom didn’t mention it, but I gather that falling on a line like this wouldn’t be advisable either!
Places to go, things to do
be in abundance, which is why the Chugach is the holy grail of big mountain lines for ski mountaineers. The snow conditions here are due to the area’s unique combination of sticky maritime air coming in contact with cold mountainsides, meaning that exceedingly steep powder lines can form anywhere the underlying rock provides an opportunity. The terrain just happens to provide every option available, producing a range of radical features from spiny faces to snow mushrooms, ramps, gullies, wind lips and couloirs, not to mention some good sized cornices as well. Simply put, there are more steep lines in good condition here than anywhere else on 52 o v e r s e a s c l i m b i n g
An entire snow season in the Chugach takes place over only a couple of months. Starting with rapid snow accumulation and short winter days, the snowpack gradually consolidates on steep ground and the better lines fill in. Then the days lengthen and things start warming up at an alarming rate. Before you know it, the season is gone, the mountains are shedding, and the glaciers are opening up. Over two seasons in the Chugach, with Rory Camm and various teams of others, we’ve been lucky enough to complete trips to several interesting parts of the region and negotiate just a few of the classic lines on offer. This includes trips to the western Chugach, the Kenai Mountains, the central portion near Valdez, and a boat-based mission out in Prince William Sound. But this sum total feels like a mere scratch on the surface when I think about what’s out there! For anyone thinking of heading that way, here’s a selection of some of the more significant peaks we visited, to give you a taste of what to expect. Girdwood is a true ski town near the Anchorage end of the range and is a great first stop for any Alaskan winter trip and one of the only options for
riding ski lifts. Right behind town there are also several imposing faces including the classic northwest face of Big League which has managed to evade us twice now, despite best laid plans. Further east are an array of peaks, all approachable from the road en-route to Whittier and the adjacent Placer Valley, which contains the railway. Although there used to be a ski train here, offering a morning stop and evening pickup from the rail line, these days you’ll find the locals concentrated around Turnagain Pass, which provides the easiest possible roadside access in these parts.3 However since the snowline is often at sea level, there are plenty of options right across the Kenai Peninsula. Prince William Sound This season we decided that Prince William Sound might be worth a shot too. The allure of riding to the water’s edge got us travelling out of Whittier and into the unknown. All around the large glaciers above Blackstone and the surrounding bays offer huge terrain, and even apparently insignificant peaks on the map offer gob-smacking potential. Within 30 kilometres or so it became apparent that we were looking at what could well be the world’s biggest terrain park, with the unlikely situation of great sea access! The place is vast and ridiculously skiable. On the downside, this area is also renowned for its
storm generating capacity, as demonstrated by the snowpack which was a solid 2-metres deep, right down to sea level. We were lucky to get three days of welcoming conditions, including two days of sunshine and spectacular views up College Fiord and into the heart of the Chugach around Mt Marcus Baker. Unfortunately our first outing coincided with a warm-up that turned the new snow into elephant snot. We turned back from our planned objectives above the Tebenkof Glacier and gave away our chance to bag a peak. At least we had spring corn conditions down near the coast to retreat to, so there was still plenty of fun to be had. Thompsons Pass Several hours drive from Prince William Sound, or a short flight east, lie the towns of Valdez and Thompsons Pass. This is one of the few places affording easy road access to higher elevations. (Imagine the Fox and Franz névés with road access and you have some idea of the fantastic potential of the area around the Pass.) The action takes place along a 20-mile (32 kilometre) stretch of road that is host to several glaciers and the voluminous snowpack that lies over them. If you’re interested in easily accessed backcountry powder, moderate sized peaks and plenty of terrain options, you might not need to go any further than Thompsons Pass.4 o v e r s e a s c l i m b i n g 53
Valdez has been made famous in ski movies the world over and is home to several heli-skiing operations, in addition to Cordova and Haines further east. The area also provides perfect access for sled skiing so you’ll often find the full range of access mode skiers all vying for first tracks on anything in condition. As a lowly non-mechanised traveler there is no need to despair though—there are many couloirs and other features with no easy way up and no landing zone for the heli services. Or you can get up early and start straight up something tasty in the hope that the local pilots will avoid foot traffic. Best of all, though, is how quickly the people disappear after the heli season, leaving only a handful of locals to see in the spring. There are dozens of accessible peaks and ridgelines in Thompsons Pass, all full of ramps and chutes, and we rode a heap of great lines in that area. Some of the best include Python, Diamond, Acupulcho and Stone. But after some time there you will notice that the really big stuff lies beyond. The choices become more arduous or more expensive as you move further back from the road corridor. As in New Zealand, it is possibly to fly into many areas, but coordinating extraction is not always easy. Other choices revolve 54 o v e r s e a s c l i m b i n g
around access by snow machine, by boat, possibly by dogsled and even by kite. Often the good old Kiwi-style expedition base camp is one of the best ways to spend enough time in one area to assess conditions and bag a big line. We used this strategy several times and it really paid off. In two seasons there our best expedition trip involved venturing east to the truly ridiculous terrain in the Valley of the Tusk. Our nine day trip in the Valley of the Tusk resulted in some of the best ski mountaineering we’ve experienced including successful lines off the right and left peaks of the main headwall. We were spared a confrontation with the central line off the main ‘Tusk’ thanks to an avalanche that had striped that face back to rock, with a large chunk of hangfire ominously poised at the top—that was our excuse anyway! Bench and Heiden Glaciers Other destinations which produced great multiday trips include the nearby Bench and Heiden Glaciers south of Thompsons Pass. The Bench and Heiden glaciers are home to ‘the Books’ and other veritable libraries of scary lines, mostly in the form of steep ramps cutting through cliff bands. This year we also investigated the glaciated terrain beyond Stone
Mountain where several peaks with great lines protrude above the névé. We concluded our trip there with a 10 mile (16 kilometre) ski out to the car, which we finally located at around 1.30 am—it was hiding behind a large crowd of people and several bonfires. Our car park turned out to be the spot for the local prom night after-party so there were plenty of aprésski beers to go around! Leaving Chugach on a high note can be difficult; deciding when to pull out or, worse still, abandon an expedition is a typical Alaskan expedition dilemma. This year we got lucky with a late expedition to the Tonsina Glacier area in the vicinity of Peak 7601. After three days camp-bound while the snow came down, we set about climbing a number of un-named peaks that offered testing lines. Suitably invigorated, we decided that it was a perfect time to call it quits and begin the long journey home. The north ramp of Meteorite—one of the premier ski mountaineering lines in the area—had eluded us for another year. The story of our attempts to ski the Meteorite are typical of many Chugach ambitions; just when we had worked out how we’d do it, the next storm would come in and a few days later the place would have changed. It’s all about seizing your chances in Alaska it seems.
(Further Reading) 1 Alaska Ascents by Bill Sherwonit (1996). 2 Glaciers of Prince William Sound Alaska by Nancy R. Lethcoe (1987). 3 Chugach Avalanche Forecast Centre [www.cfaic.org] 4 Alaska Backcountry Skiing by Matt Kinney (2006).
o v e r s e a s c l i m b i n g 55