[yew]

“M” (on snowshoes) and I (on tele skis with plastic tele boots) skied out toward Artist Point. This would be my third trip to Artist Point. I thought I knew the terrain well. On the drive up, the snowline was at about 3000 feet but was not sticking to trees or pavement. Car thermometer read 32 degrees at Heather Meadows parking lot. Few cars were parked there and not many people riding the lifts at the ski area. The snow was OK – 2 inches of damp, somewhat sticky powder on top of a stable base. In spots, wind scoured off snow to a strong crust. While still in the ski area and on the cat trail, wind blew my mini-foam pad off my pack. It tumbled away and out of sight in no time. I tried to ski after it but recovery was futile; I am now a litterbug. I hope someone finds it and puts it to use. It will join all the gloves under the lifts. It was windier at Austin Pass and snowing horizontally during gusts. Visibility was not good but acceptable for safe travel. 2 other parties: skier/boarder couple ahead of us and 2 snowshoers behind us. Made it to the top of the ridge on Artist Point where the thin ridge runs out to Huntoon Point in declining visibility. I skied off a cornice on way out to Huntoon Point and fell 3-4 feet (a quick “Whoa! S&*t!”), luckily uninjured. I just couldn’t see the edge of the snow in flat light. After that, we turned around (“Screw this! It’s not worth it. Let’s get out of here.”) and prepared for the descent. Spoke with one of the 2 snowshoers about declining visibility. They stopped for lunch then pushed on to wherever. The skier/boarder couple descended (in the nick of time it turned out). We dug pits near Artist Point to lunch in and get out of the wind and hopefully, let visibility improve. Snow looked decent for the ski down. Pits showed a few inches of wet, sticky powder, a crust about 5 inches thick below that, with drier, sugary snow below that. I hoped visibility would improve so I could ski down. But, visibility got worse and we were in a whiteout. I left the skins on and slowly and carefully descended. We could not see but a few feet in front of us and got turned around and disoriented trying to find the way out. We wandered back and forth on the knob/ravined ridge. I forgot the Green Trails map on my kitchen table. But, it would not been of much use since it did not show all the cliffs, steep ravines and other terrain features that acted as obstacles. We needed a 7.5” quadrangle. I fired up the GPS. Batteries soon died (of course) . Salvaged batteries out of the digital camera. We were completely disoriented and could not tell west from east. We trusted the compass and GPS even though they were taking us to groups of trees and across hollow we did not see on the way up. Became stressed, worried, filled with anxiety, about not being able to find a way down. Started to contemplating digging a snowcave for a bivouac. What a long miserable night that would be! Thought about contacting the wife with “M”’s cell phone so an expensive S&R team would not get called out for us, were we to bivouac in a snowcave. Under stress and anxiety about a potential bivouac in a snowcave, I began barking rude commands to “M” for compass azimuths. After about an hour of wandering back and forth on that God-forsaken, winter storm-battered ridge looking for a safe ravine to descend we finally took the least-scariest, following a general azimuth from the GPS back to the ski area. I took my skis off and booted down a steep slope. The big, heavy plastic tele boots did just fine walking downhill and only sunk in an inch or two. Much to my relief, I soon recognized our location . Turns out we were closer to the ski area than expected. I got a few turns in outside of the ski area and on the cat trail in the ski area, which wasn’t bad with a few inches of that wet, somewhat-sticky powder on it. Atleast the snow wasn’t all thrashed out by thousands of snowboarders and alpine skiers as it usually is. It sucks we got lost, came down the wrong way and bypassed the bowl I wanted to ski. But then again, we could not see but a few feet in front of us. A fast-paced ski descent would’ve been potentially injurious and therefore, stressful and not much fun. I don’t know how we got so far north of where I thought we were. Sense of distance and direction is thrown completely off kilter in the whiteout. It was a bizarre sensation to feel as if I were still moving downhill when I was actually stopped. Just no spatial reference in all that white. Lessons learned: 1.) collect GPS waypoints on the way up. Even familiar areas familiar look different in a whiteout. 2.) throw the OR winter bag cover and Esbit heat tab stove in with the space blanket and other bivouac equipment for a more complete emergence bivouac kit. Photo at (and that was when the visibility was good!) http://www.msnusers.com/hikingjer/northcascadesofwa2005.msnw?action=ShowPhoto&PhotoID=286 . We ended up coming down the ravine on the other side of the ridge in the background of the photo. Once we were no longer lost in the whiteout, I felt glad that we did this trip. Getting lost in the whiteout did add some exercise and it was a learning experience. “M” thought it was kind of fun. He was “cool as a cucumber” all along. I was grateful it did not become an emergency bivouac. I don’t want to end up in the newspaper and don’t want to pay an S&R bill. But Hey, atleast I found some new bowls to yo-yo in. BTW, there's a good pic of my dog "licking himself" on Raptor Ridge in the Chuckanuts at http://www.msnusers.com/hikingjer/northcascadesofwa2005.msnw?action=ShowPhoto&PhotoID=284. I like this particular photo for some reason; probably because it reminds me of the idyllic Southern and Central Appalachians.

[gigamike]

Nice report Jerry and glad you didn't have to spend tonight in a snow cave. I also learned the hard way about the importance of collecting GPS waypoints on the way out

[yew]

Went back up to Baker on Sunday April 2nd but with a different trip partner. Wow, what different conditions! Saturday was basically like a warm, winter day. Sunday was spring, spring, spring! Since I was with a Basic level skier, we just yo-yoed around the ranger cabin (?) and worked on cross-country downhill skills. I don't know if the snow was technically "corn" but our skis did not sink but an inch and it was good for linking telemark turns on lightweight backcountry touring gear (pic at http://www.msnusers.com/hikingjer/northcascadesofwa2005.msnw?action=ShowPhoto&PhotoID=287 ) Never skied with my dogs before but it drives them bonkers and they really love it. They run behind with joy and excitement and really like it when I wreck, especially a dramatic tumbling wreck, several times flailing about. They then greet us by jumping on us (http://www.msnusers.com/hikingjer/northcascadesofwa2005.msnw?action=ShowPhoto&PhotoID=290). They apparently really like backcountry nordic downhill skiing. Soaked up enough rays to turn a little red even though it was only partly sunny in occasionally. Looks like sunscreen should be in the pack from here on out. It was so warm much of the time I was only skiing uphill and downhill in a synthetic longjohn top. Saw a lot of loose, wild dogs in the parking lot and with snowshoers, skiers, snowboarders and post-holers heading up to Artist Point, Herman Saddle, Bagley Lakes and elsewhere. I hope people are picking up their dog's feces. Poop pollutes water. I picked up and packed out my dog's feces which was, of course, unpleasant but had to be done. WooHoo, spring is here! in the mountains!