Backcounty Descent 1: Marble Peak

With the ski resorts shut down for the season, one has to work a bit harder to get in some quality turns. To be honest, I've been building to this time of year since October: compiling the necessary technical gear, beginning my avalanche education, and making every attempt to maintain some modicum of fitness.

Anyhoo, this time of year, the usually dangerous Colorado snowpack has stabalized significantly as a result of the melt-freeze cycle that occurs with the warm day time temperatures and below freezing evening temps. This gives people the opportunity to ski big lines that would be a near-certain death sentence in mid-winter. The key, however, is to get off the mountain before the sun begins to heat and melt the snow, once again resulting in dangerous avalanche conditions.

That being the case, my buddy Todd picked me up at 4:15 AM this morning for the 1 hour drive to Marble, Colorado where we would attempt to climb and ski Marble Peak. To reach the summit we would have to climb 2,400 feet, so alloting the standard 1 hour per 1,000 feet of ascent, we figured that would put as at the summit at roughly 7:45, plenty of time to drop in and get off the hill before things turned bad.


Here's Todd Hartman M.D. throwing on his skins by light of headlamp. Intersting side note: the most dangerous part of skiing Marble Peak in mid-winter isn't even the threat of causing an avalance while climbing or skiing, rather it's the mere act of driving to the trailhead that is a veritable Russian Roulette. The access road goes under 14 huge avalanche paths, and as you'll see in some pictures later, these slides are so large they destroy EVERYTHING in their path; they literally wipe out out everything leading down to the road, cross the road, and continue on their path of destruction below the road. This time of year, nothing will run to the road, but looking around on the drive up, you realize just how destructive nature can be.

One hour in. I would have taken more pictures earlier, but it was pitch black and we were struggling to find our way through the forest. Here we finally got into a clearing at roughly 10,000 feet, so I snapped this action photo of Dr. Hartman.

Here's the view of Marble Peak from roughly half-way through the climb. The peak is in the upper left-hand corner, and while it looks close, it's still over an hour away from here.

Along the way we reached a cliff band that afforded us some unbelievable panaromic views of the surrounding peaks. These are called the "Alleys," and if the snowpack allows, we'll be skiing them soon.

An awesome shot from the cliff band down into the valley.

Believe it or not, I snapped this about half an hour after my last shot of the summit, and it still doesn't seem much closer. You do get a better appreciation for how steep the bowl is in the upper left-hand corner in this picture, however. To access the bowl, you have to stay in the trees to the right where the snow is more stable. If you were to climb up the face of the bowl and it went big, you would basically have zero chance of survival, as there's nothing to stop you for about 2,000 vertical feet except trees, rocks, and cliffs. Once you reach the top of the trees, you access a narrow ridge that gradually leads you to the summit.

Here's Todd on the knife-ridge leading to the summit. By the looks of the drop off to either side, I'm sure you can deduce why it's called a "knife-ridge."

Yours truly on the summit, for some reason dressed like Johny Cash. The peak in the upper right hand corner is Juniper Peak, and it's next on our list. Once at the top, all that was left to do was take off our skins, put on warm gear, and ski safely to the bottom.

Some more views from the summit, at 11,400 feet.

And some more...
The view back up the bowl after our descent. If you look in the middle-right of the picture, you can see a small avalanche that ran some time in the last week. It only ran about 80 feet, not big or destructive enough to injure a person, but it would definately put a scare into someone, and it serves as a reminder that even blue skies and spring temps don't guarantee anyone safety. One more view from the summit. Sorry it's out of place.

Another shot of the bowl. If you look closely, you will see discolorations that almost look like dirt. They are, however, the remnants of a dust storm that kicked up on Tuesday in Utah, and the storm was so big and winds so strong, much of the red dust settled in the Colorado mountains.

Remember before when I was telling you how destructive the slides are in this area? Look at this big tree. Now notice that the top is sheared clean off. Then, look at the branches. Notice how they're all on one side, with the other side stripped bare of pretty much anything? That's called flagging, as all the branches on the up-mountain side get wiped out by the power of the avalanche, leaving every tree on the slope resembling a flag pointing down-mountain.

More evidence of flagging.

Finally, my favorite picture. This is down at the road where we parked the car. As you can see, a mid-winter slide has ripped this tree right out by the roots, and deposited it like a javelin in the ground on the OTHER SIDE OF THE ROAD. It's an amazing thing to see. Mother nature, as much as we humans insist on trying, is simply not to be messed with.