James and I ended back up at the Econo Lodge (actually its sister motel, The Carriage Inn), where we got the last room available in Lake Placid that night. We checked in, unpacked, showered, then headed over to the Black Bear for eats.
We both agreed that what we tried to do, in the manner we tried to do it, was unequivocally insane. James said it best, that as cool as it would have been to do, it's probably not worth it to carry skis for 12 miles to ski perhaps half that distance, much less when you'll be exhausted to begin - and end - with.
James and I had a lot to talk about. It was great getting out in the backcountry with him and we had a lot of fun. I hope we can get together again soon. Before the trip we'd never met, and I thought our decision-making and general "get along boys" vibe was good. And oh yeah: we had fun.
Really.
Why don't you look like you believe me?
The next morning we got up and decided to have some breakfast and then go skiing in-area on our way back down I-87. We initially talked about skiing at Windham, which was relatively convenient for both of us. But on the way James saw an area he'd never heard of off the highway and suggested we go ahead and hit it, since it meant we'd be skiing by 11.30am, rather than after lunch.
It was a good intention, but it turned out to be the worst idea of the trip.
West Mountain. Undeniably the worst and most terrifying ski conditions of my life. DON'T go there. The runs were LITERALLY 25-degree+ ice skating rinks. There was about 2cm of windblown granular on top of armorplate blue ice - and this is no exaggeration, more like an understatement. I did four "runs" and walked down the last - something I had never done. I made it down faster walking than many who were trying to ski. It was the scariest ski day of my life, including the first time I skied, including the first black diamond run I skied, and it was in civilization. I was forced to snowplow down an entire blue run at maximum heartrate and the pisser was that my plow had no effect on my speed whatsoever. I wanted to quit after the third run but I accidently took the wrong trail and ended up at the far side of the area and had to ride the lift back all the way to the top (James did the same thing). Then I had to get down again.
When I finally made it back down to the lodge I found James waiting with his skis off. We were done. $29 for three runs and a steep walk down a dumb run called "Coy Dog."
As James masterfully put it: "There is a reason why no-name ski areas are no-name."
We walked back out to the parking lot and loaded up our trucks and said adieu. I look forward to skiing/climbing/slogging with James again.
The photo above shows my four-hour lift pass. I "skied" for no more than 20 minutes total.
For the skinny on the Great Range Traverse, there are all sorts of maps and logistics here.
I promised a bit of data to some of the folks on RCU and elsewhere who keep asking about the reality of hiking/climbing in alpine touring (A.T.) gear, etc. We carried skis through deep snow for the better part of 14 miles, so I have a little something to say about the matter. So here it goes, my gift to you.
Q: How do a.t. boots hike, Mike?
A: Probably better than I do, but still quite badly.
Q: How do a.t. boots climb, Mike?
A: Probably better than I do, but not all that badly if you're mostly going up, i.e., frontpointing. They don't French terribly well [insert wisecrack here], or maybe that's just me. I was using Scarpa Tambos. James was using Lowa Struckturas. I'm looking into getting some Dynafit Thermoflex liners.
Q: Should I attempt the Great Range Traverse, Mike?
A: Heck yeah. If you make it, don't tell me about it.
Q: Should I attempt the Great Range Traverse in winter, Mike?
A: See previous.
Q: Should I attempt the Great Range Traverse in winter, on skis, Mike?
A: No, you shouldn't.
Q: If I did attempt or have attempted the Great Range Traverse in winter on skis, Mike, would you like to hear about it?
A: Out of nothing more than prurient interest, yes. Tell me about it.
Q: Do you know if anyone has attempted and succeeded in doing the Great Range Traverse in winter, on skis, Mike?
A: I'm reasonably sure some numbskull has done it, though no one has confirmed this.
Q: Do you think you'll ever attempt the Great Range Traverse in winter, on skis, a second time, Mike?
A: Yeah, probably, but I'll likely carry snowshoes and book an extra day. Why? Because I'm an idiot. And I want to carry a heavier pack. And because the Daks are beautiful and remote and full of magic. And also, because I'm an idiot. I don't think I'd be satisfied to do it in any season other than winter.
Q: Any other plans in the Daks, Mike?
A: Trap Dike if the avy danger ever relents and all the slide debris from Avalanche mountain and Colden finally comes down. The North Face of Gothics if I ever time conditions right. Many ice routes elsewhere in the area. Reasonable, classic ski tours, remote climbs. Sure, I'll be back.
Thanks folks. Good night.
[Postscript: We did return to the Great Range the following year. See how that one went.]