Cedars

My husband takes beautiful pictures

of the beautiful, quiet places of the world.

The cedar grove on Moscow Mountain is one of those places.

Moscow Mountain Ski Tour

Sometimes, I am reminded how different my life is from other paths that it could have taken.  

For instance, if I had stayed in the South there are certainly many things I would not have done...

• Catch a westslope cutthroat trout on a fly rod
• Learn to tele ski
• Regularly spot moose, occasionally in my backyard
• Go snow camping
• Pick huckleberries.

I'm also reasonably certain that I never expected that this sight would be that of my family, skiing uphill!

 

Tele Mama

It is snowing right now, unexpectedly. A fat, wet snow--perfect for February . Good knitting weather. Good for going to the winter market and finding some apples. Good for napping.

Last weekend we skied at Schweitzer. We had bluebird conditions--alert the media!  We ate at Eichardt's Pub in Sandpoint and slept in late. We enjoyed the company of a good fried who had joined us.

Beyond the shadow of a doubt, though, the best part was ski touring around the cat tracks and village, pulling my son in the trailer. Every once in a while, we should all do things that make other people stop and stare. Skiing uphill pulling a trailer is just a suggestion.

Fergeson Ridge

We took a trip to Wallowa County Oregon this weekend, one of our favorite places.  

We had the pleasure of skiing at Fergeson Ridge, the ski hill operated by the Eagle Cap Ski Club.  Lift tickets (t-bar only) are $15, but the terrain is substantial.  One could get very, very good learning to ski here.  This weekend, even though it is mid January, early season conditions still held due to the low snowfall.  The groomers were icy and parts were covered with what my husband calls "frozen death cookies"--ball bearings of ice.  But the side trails and perimeters were wonderful and full of soft powder.  Getting to some of these areas is a bit of a trek, and at one point, skiing solo, I had the feeling I was being watched--by a cougar.  But it was probably my imagination.

Most people who ski "Fergie" know each other.  The place is run by volunteers.  Even still, everyone is very friendly, even to newcomers.  To say we felt at home in the warming hut is a bit of an understatement.   It was filled with toddlers and nursing mamas, and the woodstove grate was covered with drying kids' clothes.  We shared a set of tiny skis, borrowed free from the shop, with another family who also had a first-time skier, and meals for all of us cost $9--total.  (Granted one grilled cheese sandwich was free after he burned the first two!)

Despite the everybody-knows-everybody mentality, they do try to keep the operation professional.  A sign clearly indicates that dogs should stay leashed and off the runs.  I found this sign to be about 50 percent effective:  the dogs were off the runs, but at least one unleashed dog was finding more exciting things in the parking lot.  Specifically, he found a leftover over ham and cheese sandwich.  A man walking past asked, "is that your dog?", to which I replied, "no, but that was my sandwich."  Note to self:  keep truck bed secure to prevent four-legged thieves!

We also spent a little time at the south end of Wallowa Lake.  I have to say I found it much more enjoyable in the dead of winter, without the summer crowds and noise.  This time, we only heard the muted sounds of snow falling, interrupted by the occasional owl. 

Skiing in the Backcountry

Aneroid Mountain

I saw an advertisement for New Belgium's winter ale, Snow Day, in a magazine today and it made me regretful that we haven't had one yet (snow day that is, although I'm sure the Snow Day is nice too).  We are still stuck in a high pressure with little moisture and hardly any snow since Thanksgiving.  

The lack of snow didn't stop my husband and his buddies from going on their annual backcountry ski trip to the Wallowa Mountains in Oregon.   

They didn't have much snow, but they managed to find a few nice spots anyway.

Mt. Andy

My husband also heard, for the first time, the sound you're not supposed to hear while skiing in the backcountry:  whomping.  All was well, but it does make one appreciate beacon drills in the backyard (even the one where the neighbor found me hiding behind his garbage cans, and the best excuse I could come up with at the time was "I'm playing hide and seek with my husband"!

Looking into Big Sheep Basin

Hubby takes good pictures, no???

McCully Basin

In Like a Lion

No snow for almost two months and then snow for over a week, culminating in a 8-10 inch dump on the Palouse on the last night of February.  It snowed 22 inches on Schweitzer Mountain.   We found it hard to believe that the Selkirks could get so much in such a short time.  It was definitely the most snow I've seen in a 24 hour period in the "wow that is significantly more snow than was there last night" sense.  We were actually up at Schweitzer it snowed there, having skied the day before.  Conditions before the snowstorm were good, though not epic.  Lots of untracked powder still in the trees, thought it was a bit solid underneath and wind scoured on the top of the ridge.  I did something a bit out of character for myself, which was to head over to the backside of Schweitzer by myself.  I even did my favorite run, Kaniksu, from the top.  It was worth it, as I found powder and few people!

Wallowas

The inland northwest has a secret.  A disjunct mountain range in the northeast corner of Oregon, known as the Wallowas.  Not part of the Rockies or the Cascades, they are the result of the North American continental plate--which used to end near the current day Idaho/Oregon border--crashing into Pacific islands.  Unlike other mountain ranges in the U.S., they run east-west, rather than north-south.  Much of the Wallowas are designated wilderness area, and most approaches involve a 7+ mile hike and 2500+ ft elevation gain. They don't exist on the beaten track to anywhere, and you don't end up there by accident.  But, for all this contrariness, the Wallowa mountains are one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.

Chief Joseph Mountain

My husband recently returned from a backcountry ski trip to Aneroid Basin in the Wallowas.  While what happens in the yurt, stays in the yurt, he did inform me that the snow was either really good, or really bad, in typical backcountry fashion. He is also sharing these pictures.  Since I didn't earn these turns, I won't offer any commentary, but rather let the images speak for themselves.

     

The roads are always worst 10 miles from home

We had our second major snowstorm of the winter on Wednesday.  To celebrate, we went skiing up at Schweitzer Mountain.   It was a rather long drive getting to Sandpoint.  Plows were out in full force, but the wind across the Palouse caused drifts across the road in places.  It was worth the drive, however, as over a foot of new powder awaited us and we had an epic day on the mountain, despite having to deal with holiday crowds.

Frozen trees

Early morning sun on a cold mountain.

Backside of Schweitzer

Catching some freshies in the trees

The sun is coming out (slowly).

The skies cleared, and the temperatures steadily dropped overnight--to below zero.  With the temperature still in the single digits this morning and the wind chill making it feel even colder, we decided not to ski and spent some time in Sandpoint and driving around Lake Pend Orielle. Dawn comes late in midwinter  at 48 degrees north latitude.

Sunrise over Lake Pend Orielle

Frozen City Beach.

I guess the polar bear plunge is out!

In some areas, the lake was "steaming" because the water temperature was warmer than the air temperature, making for some eerie early morning sights.

 

Lake Pend Orielle

We drove home later that afternoon, and were treated to some beautiful views in the early evening light.

HW 95 in Benewah County

Winter is about the only time I can catch sunrise and sunset in the same day!

Tele morning

I began Sunday morning on the top of a mountain.  This is generally a good thing, especially when said mountain is nearly deserted and you are afforded spectacular views.  We were up at Schweitzer, near Sandpoint, ID, skiing this weekend.  While a ski area does not allow the muted quiet of a backcountry peak, early Sunday morning--before the dudes awake from their slumber--is a great time to be alone with your thoughts if you must be at a ski area.  

It was a rare bluebird day on Schweitzer, clear and cold.  No freezing fog or flat light.  I had beautiful views of Lake Pend d'Oreille as well as the Selkirk and Cabinet Mountains.  Lake Pend d'Oreille is probably my favorite lake in Idaho.  Over 1,100 feet deep in places--so deep the Navy uses it to test submarine prototypes--it is fed by the Clark Fork River coming out of Montana and was the starting point of the great floods of Glacial Lake Missoula during the last Ice Age.  

I was on telemark gear, so I could go slowly and enjoy myself.  I find that is one of the virtues of tele-skiing--you don't have to go fast.  It's analogous to fly fishing and yoga.  If you go too fast, you are missing the point.  

It was a rare morning.  Early on a Sunday, it was practically a religious (or at least a spiritual) experience, especially if you counted the burning in my quads from the turns as a kind of stoic discipline. Conditions were typical early season with some thin patches and the occasional shrub or rock getting in the way.  On the south facing slopes, the sun softened up the snow nicely and, while not powder, made the turns fun.
The only problem with tele-skiing is that you can't watch yourself make turns.  But then a religious experience isn't supposed to be about you anyway.

 

Lake Pend d'Oreille in the summer as seen from the top of Schweitzer. Photo courtesy of WL.

Driving home on Highway 95.