Jay Silveira
New member
As winter approaches, E and I have had a chance to check out some of the local ski options here in Hamilton Montana. Although November has thus far been dry, October was a pretty wet month, with a number of episodes of high-elevation snow. Last weekend (Nov 4) we checked out a local peak called Ward Mountain (elevation 9119') in order to look at the potential for skiing, and to get a general idea of the snowpack. Starting from the trailhead (4320'), we encountered the first traces of snow at 6700' and consistent snowpack of about a foot by the time we hit 7500'. From that point, we put on snowshoes and continued up. Unfortunately, the trail was not well blazed, and we lost it due to the snowpack. We finally topped out at 8200' on a shoulder of the mountain near a radio tower. Although we could see the peak in the distance, we didn't have time to get to it without setting ourselves up for a dark descent. However, we did get a chance to check out the snowpack at 8200'. It consisted of 6 inches of medium-weight powder over a consolidated base of about 2 feet. With regard to ski terrain, the best stuff we found was unfortunately south facing, but consisted of some nice open trees and meadows in the 5000'-7000' range. <BR> <BR>Yesterday, we had the chance to ski one of the more regular backcountry spots in the area known as Gash Point. One of my colleagues at work(John) was heading up with some friends (Colin and Nicky) from Missoula. Gash Point is outside the town of Victor, about 10 miles north of Hamilton. The skiing takes place in an area of east-facing bowls on the eastern edge of the Bitterroots. To get a better idea of the area, follow the link to the images at the bottom of this message. Access to the skiing is via the Gash Creek Road, which seems to be a Forest service road (dirt), and travels about 10 miles, winding across and into the mountains toward the Gash Point area. When the snow builds up, the road can become impassable and snowmobiles are a common option to get to the trailhead. For this early season trip however, we were able to drive to the furthest trailhead access, just a couple of miles from the main bowl. At the trailhead, the altimeter was reading 5805' (important observation for later) and there was no snow. Thus, even the telemarkers John, Colin, and Nicky wore their hiking boots and carried their skis on their packs. I double checked with E that she indeed had the key to the car, she acknowledged that she did, and I placed my keys in the car and locked it up. This little bit of info will also come into play a little later, so stay tuned. <BR> <BR>For clarification purposes, I've detailed an image of the areas we skied. Simply open the link below in a new window, and follow along with the picture as you read the text. The numbers in parentheses in the text (#) correspond to the numbers in the detail figure. <BR> <BR>The main bowl (1) in the area is drained by Gash Creek, and the trail we were following hugged the north edge of the drainage. We followed the trail along the edge of the drainage for about a half mile before we cut off trail and headed towards the creek at a place that the others knew. There was a small carved arrow in a tree, hardly noticeable if you weren't looking for it. The route we took was relatively well worn, in open woods with some ledges, and we eventually crossed the creek to the south side of the drainage. Surprisingly, we found the first traces of snow at an elevation of only 6200', and by 6700' there was consistent snowcover. Since the snow at this level was well packed, there was no need for snowshoes or skins. We soon approached the bowl and found ourselves in a bit of a meadow which gave way to a lower headwall. The snow here was pretty horrible, generally refrozen corn with an unbreakable crust. Fortunately, the snow got much better with elevation and shade. Once in the bowl (~7500'), we cut across it from south (5) to north, finding areas of unbreakable frozen crud with some areas of corn snow depending on sun exposure. We made our way up the north edge of the bowl and topped out on a local peak (8485') for lunch (2). <BR>Everyone stayed in boots the whole way, since the snow was solid enough. We were rewarded with views of the Bitterroots to the north, south, and west, and a bit to the northwest we could see Gash Point itself (8886'). After a quick lunch, it was time to ski. Since the main bowl was exposed to the sun and the snow was not fun at all, we decided to hit the next area over, a broad gully (4) which faced just a bit more to the north and was partially shaded. This gully (I labeled it as "the chute" on the map) however, dropped into the next drainage (Sweathouse Creek)and meant that we would have to hike back up before we could finish out skiing in the main bowl. The gully started out at a pitch of 30-35 degrees, but fortunately the well consolidated snowpack meant that slides were not a big concern. <BR>Colin jumped in first and was rewarded with about 6-12 inches of dry powder over the packed base. Everyone eventually jumped in, finding the snow generally a consistent layer of powder, although a few pockets of wind/sun crust existed. The three telemarkers continued on down to the bottom of the pitch (~1000 vertical) while E and I stopped about halfway down, not wanting to hike the entire pitch in boots. The others skinned back up, but John said the skins weren't sticking very well in the dry powder. E and I cut across over to the main bowl and hiked up there, since the corn/crud was much easier to deal with than wallowing in the powder. I made another small run on the ridge between the bowl and the chute (3), while the telemarkers ran another full lap to the bottom. The lighting was pretty good and we shot some video as well. <BR>Finally, it was time to head out via the main bowl. I decided to cut across to the south side of the bowl (5) which provided the most shade, and found much better conditions than the rest of the bowl. The others cut lower in the bowl and had to "survival ski" as they put it, on top of the refrozen crud. We all eventually worked our way over to the south side of the bowl and skied it out from there. As we got lower, even the shaded snow turned into a horrible frozen mess, but I kept my skis on through the meadow and into the woods below. <BR>Gradually, everyone switched from ski boots to hiking boots, and I caught up with E while she was changing boots. Everyone else had gone on ahead, and we followed along through the open woods and ledges, the route we thought would lead us back to the trail. We soon realized it was not the same way we had come in. Before long, we were bushwhacking through areas of deadfall and making horrible time in our effort to find the trail. We were 99% sure that we were at least in the correct drainage (Gash Creek), and we knew that we needed to hug its north edge, but each time we found what we though was a trail, it turned out to be a faint game path or nothing at all. The biggest concern was that darkness was rapidly approaching, and we had not brought light. We continued as best we could through tangled underbrush, deadfalls, and dense pines, all the time with our skis on our backs catching on anything they could (we all know how frustrating that is) and slowing our progress even more. We knew that we needed to be north of the stream in the area, and imagine our surprise when we could hear it, and we were SOUTH of it. <IMG SRC="http://www.firsttracksonline.com/discus2/clipart/sad.gif" ALT="
"> Although I had map and compass, they were not really all that helpful, since we knew which direction we were heading, and generally where we were. Fortunately, the altimeter came in handy. We had crossed the stream at ~6000' and knew that the car was at a reading of 5805', so we couldn't drop below that level. We continued working our way along the north end of the drainage, slowly edging downward as many of the false paths seemed to go. I favored a higher route, while E a slightly lower one, so we searched both areas and kept in sight. <BR>Finally, the altimeter bottomed out at 5800'. I called down to E who was a bit below me, "That's it, we can't go ANY lower, we have to hold this contour line". We now had about 15 minutes of light left, and the thought of spending the night in the woods was creeping ever so slowly forward in my head. Holding the 5800' contour line was not all that easy, just like the Old Forest in "The Fellowship of the Ring", the forest seemed to want to push us downward to the stream. But, we held the line, and after about 5-10 minutes I found what seemed to be the most defined trail yet, and a large clear area upward to our left. A few moments later I spotted a vehicle, and fortunately, it was OUR vehicle. <BR>I virtually sprinted the last 50 yards to the car, only imagining how worried the others must have been. Strangely, the others weren't anywhere to be found! I checked their car, no note on the windshield, and none of their gear was at the car. Could we have possibly gotten here first? Could they be lost? I didn't think either of these was possible with their local knowledge of the trail. It was about this time that E came to a horrible realization. She had taken the single key off her key chain for the car, and left the remaining keys locked up inside. Unfortunately, she had removed the key to our OTHER car, leaving us entirely locked out. <BR>While we pondered this new predicament, I heard a voice from the forest shout my name, it sounded like John. I shouted back that we were at the car, and the remaining hikers soon appeared out of the forest, their skis still on their backs. They had stopped where they met the trail and waited for us, eventually searching around the woods to see if we had hit the trail in a different spot. It turns out that we passed way below them, out of sight in the woods. We soon apprised them of our NEW situation with the keys, and we all stuffed into Colin's car and took the long trek through the dark forest back to Victor. Despite our situation, the chance to see the twinkling lights way down in the Bitterroot Valley was a plus. When we finally got home, we decided to deal with the car situation the next morning, which has been remedied thanks to AAA. <BR> <BR>Images associated with this report (5 images) can be seen at: <BR> <BR><A HREF="http://www.uvm.edu/~jsilveir/11NOV01.html" TARGET="_top">http://www.uvm.edu/~jsilveir/11NOV01.html</A> <BR> <BR>J.Spin
"> Although I had map and compass, they were not really all that helpful, since we knew which direction we were heading, and generally where we were. Fortunately, the altimeter came in handy. We had crossed the stream at ~6000' and knew that the car was at a reading of 5805', so we couldn't drop below that level. We continued working our way along the north end of the drainage, slowly edging downward as many of the false paths seemed to go. I favored a higher route, while E a slightly lower one, so we searched both areas and kept in sight. <BR>Finally, the altimeter bottomed out at 5800'. I called down to E who was a bit below me, "That's it, we can't go ANY lower, we have to hold this contour line". We now had about 15 minutes of light left, and the thought of spending the night in the woods was creeping ever so slowly forward in my head. Holding the 5800' contour line was not all that easy, just like the Old Forest in "The Fellowship of the Ring", the forest seemed to want to push us downward to the stream. But, we held the line, and after about 5-10 minutes I found what seemed to be the most defined trail yet, and a large clear area upward to our left. A few moments later I spotted a vehicle, and fortunately, it was OUR vehicle. <BR>I virtually sprinted the last 50 yards to the car, only imagining how worried the others must have been. Strangely, the others weren't anywhere to be found! I checked their car, no note on the windshield, and none of their gear was at the car. Could we have possibly gotten here first? Could they be lost? I didn't think either of these was possible with their local knowledge of the trail. It was about this time that E came to a horrible realization. She had taken the single key off her key chain for the car, and left the remaining keys locked up inside. Unfortunately, she had removed the key to our OTHER car, leaving us entirely locked out. <BR>While we pondered this new predicament, I heard a voice from the forest shout my name, it sounded like John. I shouted back that we were at the car, and the remaining hikers soon appeared out of the forest, their skis still on their backs. They had stopped where they met the trail and waited for us, eventually searching around the woods to see if we had hit the trail in a different spot. It turns out that we passed way below them, out of sight in the woods. We soon apprised them of our NEW situation with the keys, and we all stuffed into Colin's car and took the long trek through the dark forest back to Victor. Despite our situation, the chance to see the twinkling lights way down in the Bitterroot Valley was a plus. When we finally got home, we decided to deal with the car situation the next morning, which has been remedied thanks to AAA. <BR> <BR>Images associated with this report (5 images) can be seen at: <BR> <BR><A HREF="http://www.uvm.edu/~jsilveir/11NOV01.html" TARGET="_top">http://www.uvm.edu/~jsilveir/11NOV01.html</A> <BR> <BR>J.Spin