Zero Bowl - 11.11.2024

Early season skiing is a challenge for me: the snowpack is thin, there's limited beta, and I'm so hungry. These factors have led to close calls for me, those I care about, and our incredible community, and it makes me hesitant to head out. The reports of quality conditions and stability have been trickling in, and it was time for us to set aside our piles of chores and head for the hills. 

After a late start, we drove south past the snowy peaks of the Chugach and the Kenai mirrored in the still waters of Turnagain Arm, and chatted about ideas for the day. Usually, we go into each day with so much recent beta and many ideas, it was fun to start this one with a blank slate. By the time we were nearing the top of Turnagain Pass and pulling into the DOT lot, we had a plan: we'd go check out the sunny bowls, chutes, and ribs of Seattle Ridge.

Skinning up the icy uptrack, my stoke and excitement built as we caught dogs and friends enjoying the winter wonderland of a beautiful sunny day on our public lands. Cresting the ridge, we looked across the arm at the iconic ski lines crowning Girdwood, Peterson Creek, and Twentymile. We talked about our favorite adventures past and our dreams for the future in these magical valleys.

Sheep Creek Ski - 3.23.2024

From the hubbub of Anchorage, Juneau is always in the back of our minds as an escape from the big city. About once a year we notice that the weather is drier in Southeast than Southcentral and rush to put together last second plans to get down there.

On a Friday night in March, we looked into the crystal forecast ball to see a sunny weekend in the coastal rainforest while our northern mountains were cloaked in clouds, wind, and snowfall. We rushed to jam our gear into our bags and jump on the first flight south the next morning.

In Juneau, we stepped out of the airport into a chilly and crisp spring morning. An hour and a cup of coffee later, and we were parked out the Thane Road and hiking into the mossy old growth forest of sheep creek.

Hawthorne Peak, the second objective of the day.

Wearing our running shoes, we followed the dirt trail up the valley until we were standing right under the big steep south face of Sheep Mountain.


We jotted down mental notes and snapped photos of the complicated 3,000 vertical foot face, shoved on our ski boots, and started climbing the frozen snow towards the west ridge of the peak.

Pioneer Peak Ski - 3.30.2018

Note: updated below the original post to include an evening lap on the north face in March 2022 with Tony, and again on a magical late summer day with Nyssa in August 2024.

Over the last two days Brian and Sam had both skied Pioneer, and it was about to get a refresh - it was time to go get it. Only two small problems: I didn't have ice tools, and Alex had a project due at work. Easily remedied. I went to REI and Alex called in sick with a bad case of powder fever.

Pioneer's giant north face towering over Palmer.

The next morning found us driving back and forth on the Old Glenn looking for the north face trailhead. After a few laps of the road we'd located the appropriate thicket and were skinning into the alders. Within 500 vertical feet we'd reached the avy debris and were soon climbing mellow ice.


I was pleased how much better my ice tools performed than my finger nails and running shoes. Kind of like being a cyborg.

Kenai Skyline Traverse - 8.20.2024

Lately we've been in the habit of checking out (and checking off) ridge jaunts around our home mountains in the Western Chugach. But these lovely ridges exist farther from home, and last week, hungry to enjoy every last minute of summer, we drove south for a Kenai ridgeline.

From the Fuller Lakes Trailhead, Nyssa, Madeline, Peter, and I left the gravel of the parking lot and walked into the green tube of the well maintained trail through the jungle to the lower lake.


At the first lake we emerged from the forest into a classic view of the rolling hills of the dry side of the Kenai Peninsula. It reminded me of the terrain around Summit Lake.


We had been impressed with the trail conditions on the lower trail and figured that might bode well for the rest of the approach to the ridge. Unfortunately, we were wrong, and the trail deteriorated into a morass of bushes, roots, and deadfall - all sorts of tripping hazards and things to hide those hazards from view.

Sheep Mountain Ridge Hike

We've seen countless unbelievable photos of what seems like everyone in southcentral AK exploring the surreal painted rocks of the Sheep Mountain Traverse. I've always wanted to go, but somehow time just flows by. Summers are so busy, and there's so much to see - what a great problem to have. Finally, on a hot and sunny day in late June of 2024, Nyssa and I joined the pilgrimage to the crumbling colors of the Glenn Highway.

By nine we're done preflighting and fueling up, and are lifting off the ground into a beautiful morning above Merrill Field. We climb over the western edge of the Chugach then cruise northeast across the Knik River Valley before reentering the mountains around the glaciated peaks of Friday Creek. We follow the creek up-valley then the little plane is dwarfed by the behemoth of Skybuster as we start to glide towards the Sheep Mountain Strip. We do a low pass before landing, secure the Cessna, then jog onto the ATV trails that depart from the lodge.

The trails are nice and smooth, and quickly bring us across the cobbles of Glacier Fan Creek and to the Gunsight Mountain Trail on the southern flank of the peak. 


The steep solar aspect feels like its perpendicular to the summer sun and cooks us as we hike up the trail. We're relieved when we reach the cooler air of the tundra benches a couple thousand feet above the road. From the grassy slopes, we look across the Matanuska Valley towards where the South Fork's headwaters spill from the toe of the Powell Glacier.


An acceptable path weaves thru the talus and to the summit of Gunsight. On top of the peak, we lunch on PB&J sandwiches and stare east thru the haze to the glaciated monsters of the Wrangell Mountains and south to the Chugach which are just out of reach.

Skilak Backpack - July 2024

For years I've dreamed of exploring the rolling mountains that rise from the south shores of Skilak Lake's vibrant blue waters. With our dear friend Ethan, we finally had a chance over a long weekend in July 2024.

The adventure starts like so many others have: packing late into the night to get out of town. We crawl out of bed in the morning, and refreshed by coffee and a bathroom break in Girdwood, join the line of cars with sights set for the Kenai. The Skilak Lake Road is a mess of dusty washboards and some pieces of the boat are probably rattled loose. Launching is a shit show, but we're eventually underway across the stunning lake on a quintessentially gorgeous Alaskan summer day.

Its breathtaking and magical on the sunny lakeshore and hard to leave. There's the usual indecision if the boat is secured or if need to tie a few more backup knots on the line. We pull up our hoods for protection as we begin the buggy hike thru the woods. It's hot and I laugh about the short sleeve that I optimistically packed forgetting about the bloodsucking flying demons.

A couple hours of climbing the quality trail through the forest brings us to the alpine. The winds are ripping, and we tuck into a green dell for shelter while we eat lunch. 

From the top of the trail, we consider climbing Peaks 4320 or 4738 but even down here the wind is harsh. So, instead we sidehill towards the pass between the peaks. In front of us we squint at a blonde rock that looks like a sitting bear. Then, the rock moves and begins circling around us. It's a sub-adult grizzly that doesn't seem too concerned or interested, we look back behind us as it flops down in a bush and rolls around lazily.