On May 16th I spontaneously skied the relatively unknown Southwest Couloir on Mount Woodring after bailing from a different objective. What I found was top quality moderate ski mountaineering adventure on par with the Banana Couloir, Static Peak and Rockchuck Peak. Here’s a quick trip report.
We’re going to keep this one light and fast. The weather let me down this day. The NOAA Grand Teton point forecast for 11,600 feet predicted 30 degree lows and clear skies, but as I rolled into the String Lake lot on the leisurely side of things, thinking I was skiing a more sheltered west facing line on the backside of Mount Moran, a thin veil of clouds hung low over the mountains. The snowpack hadn’t frozen in days and I was relying on radiational cooling to produce the supportable crust needed for corn skiing. Having woken up at 3:30AM and already driven 90 minutes I decided to forge on despite my gut instinct to head home. I left the car around 5:30AM and hiked in ski boots around String Lake and up the Paintbrush Canyon summer trail before hitting the continuous snow line a few hundred feet above the lake. With the shore “beach” of Leigh Lake unexpectedly melted, access to Leigh Canyon and my original objective was virtually impossible. The jungle between Paintbrush and Leigh is fraught with nasty drainages, creeks and bogs that make travel dangerous at worst, and grueling at best. Instead I quickly shifted to Paintbrush and the only objective I knew to still be “in”, the Southwest Couloir on Mount Woodring. I had light plans to ski this line with a friend in the coming weeks, so I felt some guilt skiing it, but I was genuinely void of inspiration and terrain – he would understand. The approach was deceptively long and the punchy, barely frozen snowpack made for difficult skinning. The couloir was only slightly more supportable, holding the weight of my skis but breaking to cuff depth when I switched to boots, even before receiving any warming. The top of the couloir was dreadfully isothermal so I traversed to a third-class rock rib which did an excellent job of filing down my expensive ski boots. I topped out 11,595 foot Mount Woodring, for my first time, at 10:30AM.
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Clouded skies and a light breeze lured me into hanging around the summit for far too long. The Southwest Couloir itself starts a few hundred feet lower on the west ridge, so my plan was to milk some turns directly off the summit and down the south face (which eventually petered into cliffs and talus), before traversing west and scrambling to my intended descent. The corn off the summit proved to be remarkably awesome, just softened by a quick blast of sun, seducing me into skiing several hundred feet lower than I intended too. When I clicked out of skis and peered over my ascent ridge towards the Southwest Couloir I quickly realized my grievous mistake, and spent the next half hour reascending and traversing over to the Southwest, which required some pesky, icy and loose fourth class down-climbing. By the time I clicked back into my skis the sun broke free from the clouds, zapping my descent to instant sticky icky, increasing in depth as I lost elevation. All in all I guess the turns were alright, as I didn’t break wet loose avalanches despite the upper slopes holding a steeper than expected 45 degrees or so, but they certainly left room for improvement and took a toll on my knee ligaments. On reflection I wished I dropped in earlier, but then I might have been skiing breakable crust which could’ve even been worse. The exit out Paintbrush, which usually provides several thousand feet of nicely pitched headwalls and meadow skipping was isothermal of the worst variety and quite taxing. I was in a fair bit of pain as I rounded out the final dry miles to the car. While the summit and first 500 feet of skiing was pleasant, the remaining 85% pierced holes in my previously firm stance that it’s “always better to go skiing”.
I look forward to nailing this stunning moderate spring descent in future years with better conditions and a psyched partner. It’s a broad, inviting, not too steep and aesthetic 2,000 foot fall-line descent on a unique 11,000 foot peak that resembles more of a Pacific Northwest style volcano ski than a typical short, abrupt and craggy Teton descent.
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Ten Thousand Too Far is generously supported by Icelantic Skis from Golden Colorado, Barrels & Bins Natural Market in Driggs Idaho, Range Meal Bars from Bozeman Montana and Black Diamond Equipment.
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DISCLAIMER
Ski mountaineering, rock climbing, ice climbing and all other forms of mountain recreation are inherently dangerous. Should you decide to attempt anything you read about in this article, you are doing so at your own risk! This article is written to the best possible level of accuracy and detail, but I am only human – information could be presented wrong. Furthermore, conditions in the mountains are subject to change at any time. Ten Thousand Too Far and Brandon Wanthal are not liable for any actions or repercussions acted upon or suffered from the result of this article’s reading.
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