Revelstoke Trip 2024

This trip looped through Jackson Hole, Sun Valley, Red Mountain, Revelstoke, Auburn, Portland, and Salt Lake.

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20240202

The trip started a day early to avoid the fiasco of the previous year when a storm shut down I-80 across southern Wyoming. A storm was expected to move into the Rocky Mountain region starting Saturday so I left Friday shortly after noon in a goal to get ahead of it. I traveled as far as Casper, Wyoming. There I enjoyed a delicious meal at the Thai Kitchen restaurant. The place is family owned and understaffed. The slow service didn't deter the steady throngs of people coming in to enjoy the fresh well-spiced food. I enjoyed pad eggplant and a Black Tooth Bomber Mountain Amber Ale.

20240203

Outside fog had set in this morning. I fueled up and started west only to spot an electric sign reporting my planned route was closed for some unknown reason - I suspect fog. So the revised route added almost an hour to the drive to Jackson, Wyoming. Until approaching Lander, WY, the roads were dry to wet making for fast and easy travel. Wyoming is a state of wide open mundane spaces and long drives. I passed near the Oregon trail and many western historical points of interest. The lack of indigenous points of interest stood out this trip. Elk and bighorn sheep didn't reveal themselves where highway signs warned of them. However, I had to slow to allow a large group of pronghorn to race across the highway and west of Landers I spotted a lone wolf in a pasture causing me to slow down and have a double take.

Outside Lander another electric sign reported the need for snow tires or chains in five miles. Not having snow tires, I didn't relish the prospect of installing the chains I had. It was a false alarm. There was plenty of very wet snow in Lander where I stopped for a coffee and scone - the juiciest blueberry I believe I've ever had. The roads west of Lander lacked the snow in town until west of Dubois. I followed a couple of snow plows up Togwotee Pass before they turned back. That left me and the many mega-size pickup trucks pulling trailers with snowmobiles. The snowpack looked thin even as the road was covered in packed snow with a light snowfall from the low clouds obscuring the surrounding mountains.

The Tetons remained hidden behind a low cloud layer. The Snake River valley leading to Jackson only sported 2-4 inches of sunbaked snow. Traveling through the Brooks Range with the snowfall, I'd had high hopes of fresh deep powder for skiing tomorrow, but that looked to be no more than a parched dream now.

20240204

My experience the previous year was of long traffic lines just getting to the Stilson Ranch remote parking lot. So the alarm got set for 6AM. I managed to only hit the snooze once. The breakfast area downstairs had already filled over half way when I arrived at 6:30AM. The skys were lighting up with the hint of a sunrise lost somewhere behind a layer of thick clouds. A skiff of snow lay on the ground and my car as I headed for Albertsons to purchase something for lunch and dinner.

Mercifully the traffic was extremely light. However, as the vehicle speed approached 30mph the right rear tire shook the car violently. Driving slowly I found a safe place to pull over and do an inspection. What happened between when I parked the car the previous night and now? I immediately assumed a flat tire or possibly a flat spot after sitting in the cold. But hey! The temperature was only 26F?!? The tire was definitely not flat. The next assumption was that after five plus years the weights balancing the rim had fallen off. I decided to drive the short distance to the remote parking and deal with the car after a day of skiing. Before jumping on the bus, I took a closer look at the wheel. There was lots of dirt packed in around the weights and some ice stuck to the inside of the rim in another spot. I cleaned off the dirt a bit with the skiff of snow laying about and broke off the ice.

The folks on the bus all seemed to know each other. As the bus loaded up with subsequent stops, one local with a firm friendly manner herded everyone to fill the bus completely from the back forward. I had a friendly chat with an older guy (oh wait! I'm an older guy too!) who was sporting some tele bindings.

I'd managed to arrive at Teton Village twenty minutes before the first tram AND the line was short. Lacking a burning desire to go to the top or do Corbet's Couloir originally there were no plans to board the tram. But the line was short so I went for it. Luck would have it, I made it onto the first tram for the ride to the top. The tram entered then passed through a very cloudy layer almost breaking through the clouds at the top. There was no wind at top and the temperature was easily tolerable. The crowds headed south down the ridgeline. I found myself skiing easterly down the single black diamond face covered in what looked like powder. Well, that's what I thought! The skis told me otherwise! There'd be these luscious patches of foot deep powder that suddenly and with no visual warning turned to bullet proof hard pack that the sharpest edges couldn't hold a line on. My skis slid out from underneath me once. After a few turns I started to spot the soft filled in troughs and the almost hidden rock solid mogul tops. The next few hours saw me skiing all over the mountain experiencing conditions from very hard pack to foot deep soft powder in the trees. I never did go back up to the very top. I threw in the towel at 1PM and boarded the bus for my car.

I cleaned up the wheel rim even more and looked up tire shops in Jackson. Being a Sunday and a place that apparently honors the Sabbath none were open. I resigned myself to driving over Teton Pass at 25mph shaking anything loosely attached free. Fortunately the removal of dirt and the attached ice had done the trick - the car rolled almost like on rails.

Tonight the accommodations are the Teton Hostel HideAway B&B. The list of instructions and rules feels more complicated than the assembly instructions for an Ikea bookshelf. It's only a 20 minute drive from Grand Targhee Resort where I plan to ski tomorrow with a peaceful view of the Teton range to the east. The place is just off Stateline road which literally separates Idaho from Wyoming. I'm in the gents bunk room with six beds but I'm the only one there.

20240205

Arriving upstairs in the hostel all was quiet. Outside the wind blew lightly across the empty snowy fields that blurred into the grey skies. As I ate breakfast and sipped on a Keurig coffee compliments of the hostel the snow began falling almost sideways from the wind coming out of the south. It came down in big flakes sharing the temperatures were warm.

The snow covered roads for the 20 minute drive to Grand Targhee Resort were attention riveting slippery. The wipers had trouble keeping the snow cleared from the windshield. As I put my ski boots on in the parking lot and the falling snow immediately covered the just parked car I thought, "This is what skiing is supposed to be like."

I paid the full window price for the lift ticket, $135. I gather from the pictures mounted here and there that on a clear day the views of the Tetons are breathtaking. Not today though. Today mother nature offered up fresh deep wet powder rather than views. Grand Targhee did not disappoint from its reputation of abundant and deep snow. The slopes are wide and casually pitched with just enough trees near the top to keep from getting lost in the fog. It was broken powder with patches of virgin snow that sometimes reached up to my thighs.

I met new folks on each ride up the chairlifts. There was Canadian couple living in Driggs for the winter. A father who'd dropped off his kids before catching a new powder runs before work. There was the gregarious self-deprecating telemark skier working on racking up a winning number of face plants; I watched him ski, he was actually pretty good despite his falls. About a third of the skiers were on telemark gear - very amazing numbers. Overall the runs were pleasantly free of skiers and the ones nearby were looking out for each other. That extended to the parking lot when a skier saw me in the car with my wipers up and lowered them so I didn't have to get out of the car to do it before leaving.

Grand Targhee isn't Jackson Hole with it's steeps and cliffs and international visitors. It has a quiet local community feel with moderate slopes and friendly people.

The four hour drive to Hailey, ID, fortunately was mostly on wet to dry roads. I wished I'd filled up in Idaho Falls because the fuel light came on before I made it to the next gas station in Arco, ID. I enjoyed the countryside of snow covered recent (geologically speaking) lava flows and my memories of Craters of the Moon National Monument.

20240206

Commuter traffic in the valley south of Ketchum feels a bit like the Roaring Fork Valley near Aspen - crowded, bumper-to-bumer, and slow. The seven mile distance from Hailey to the parking at the Sun Valley Resort took about thirty minutes. It was raining on the drive. I was early to the parking lot so secured a favorable close location. The friendly elder gentleman that parked next to me turned out to have retired to Ketchum from near Aspen. He shared he thought the snow better in Colorado. He just happened to be on a teleskier.

There was a queue to board the Roundhouse Gondola next to the Big Wood River but it only took about 5 minutes before being carried up the mountain as a wet snow fell. Visibility at the top of the gondola was limited to about 200 meters. I jumped onto the Christmas chair for the final ride to the top into even denser fog, a light steady wind, and wet snowflakes. People were coming down under the chair and the bowl to the south, but the flat light conditions and vegetation sticking through the snow discouraged my interest this part of the resort. At the top I decided to try the north side with it's long steady descent down to town and lined with trees. Whoa! Another deep powder day! Being one of the first on the mountain and sticking to the sides of the runs, I enjoyed my third day in a row of powder skiing. My knees winced immediately but with a little patience they warmed allowing me to cut turns at will in the foot plus deep heavy powder. I was shocked on my second run to actually be making first tracks through powder laden moguls. I stumbled across a tree run mostly untracked. Today stood in stark contrast to last year (and just a couple of days ago apparently) when the runs were all sunbaked and very hard packed. With about 10,000ft of vertical behind me, my legs and knees said enough. I checked out the Frenchman's chair making a couple of runs there before almost limping back to the car.

I wanted to drive north out of town to explore something new, but the low clouds still spewing either rain or snow along with the travel advisory suggested the more prudent route was to go south through Boise. It took me over five hours before arriving in the town of Donnelly, ID, for the night. The route weaved alongside the Payette River. Near Boise it's a gentle wide class 1-2 river. Traveling northward and upriver, it became wilder and wilder until some places look easily class 5 even at the low water levels of the winter. Parts looked fun for a raft, others within my skill set with loads of maneuvering, and the upper sections for thrill seekers.

I hadn't noticed a single electric vehicle since entering Idaho. Given that twice I'd traveled over 70 miles between any gas stations, I cringed at what the availability is for charging stations in this neck of the woods. Then today not far from Donnelly I passed a Rivian and a Tesla just a few miles apart heading south.

20240207

This day involved driving from Donnelly, ID, to Rossland, BC. I slept in slightly later than the past few days so that by the time I brushed the fresh and still falling snow from my car it was approaching 9AM. The hotel had been mostly filled by construction workers who'd left much earlier. The hotel clerk warned to watch out for black ice under the freshly falling snow. With an eight hour drive ahead, I started out at conservative speeds as the wiper blades pushed the wet snow aside so I could see the road.

I enjoyed the entire varied landscape today. The early part took me over a couple of passes. The steep descents on windy snow covered slippery roads required slow speeds. There was the stretch along the Little Salmon River with its dramatic rapids before the confluence with the Main Salmon at Riggins. That second pass was the climb above the town of White Bird as the Salmon continued to flow to the west and highway 95 continued northward. The stretch leadiing through Lewiston, Pullman, and terminating at Spokane was steeply rolling agricultural land with scattered farm homes and barns. This stretch was at times very foggy. The area with it's volcanic rocks and moist environment reminded me timidly of northwestern Europe.

I stopped for a late lunch and coffee in Spokane. Highway 395 stretching for miles through the city to the north reminded me of Colfax Avenue in Denver - block after block of small businesses.

As I came closer to the Canadian border I realized I may have been a bit too relaxed. I hadn't registered my visit arrival as was required during COVID and I didn't know if the border would be open by the time I arrived. Fortunately my worries were just that - worries. The border south of Rossland is open 24 hours a day. And registering is not required now. The Canadian customs officer kindly pointed out that I needed to sign my new passport.

20240208

The Lone Star Motel (listed on AirBnB) was very basic with very thin walls. The bed was comfy and the ski bus stops right in front.

The snow around Rossland and at the resort looks spring tired. It's got that dirty melting look of too many days without snow under a warm sun. There was an open creek directly underneath the chairlift at the bottom. The top of the mountain had visually tantalizing broken powder. I tried it only to discover it's the frozen sculpted kind that sends skis in every which direction.

After fantastic skiing at Jackson Hole, Grand Targhee, and Sun Valley I'm not complaining about the snow. Last year the snow here at Red Mountain was epic. And besides, my legs have no strength left! I felt lucky to be making turns on the groomed green beginner runs! After an hour I was ready to call it a day. Once back at the bottom I discovered the ski bus needed a break as well with the next one leaving in about two hours at 1:30PM. No worries. A nice bar and restaurant sits just 100 meters away. I eased the suffering in my legs with a delicious Haze IPA and the Poke Bowl (same lunch I had last year!). Some time remained before the bus returned, so I took a couple of short runs on the beginner chair carving turns into the slush while avoiding the dirt laden snow.

The incentive to stay another night in Rossland cascaded downstream like the snowflakes that had fallen this season so I decided to make the drive to Revelstoke. It's a beautiful drive through the Columbia Mountains passing alongside the massive Slocan Lake. Highway BC-6 was dry to wet with speed limits that often exceeded rational driving velocities at the curving bits. North of Nakusp I reached the ferry crossing as the sun set. The cold air crossing surrounded by the majestic night blue mountains brought reflections of those that spent time here before the modern highway and of the animals that live through the winter. It's a reminder that modern society disconnects us from the splendor and harshness of nature.

20240212

The snowpack at Revelstoke is hurting this year. It's tied with last year as the lowest snowfall at this point in the season since at least the 2007/2008 season. So when it snowed yesterday continuing into today, staying at the house nursing my knees didn't seem the thing to do. Theone and I stepped into the 'mousetrap' or winding path at the base gondola shortly after it opened to make our way up the mountain. We made our way over to the Ripper Chair and made one run. We were finding fresh snow of a few inches to depths approaching a foot. It was feeling good under foot. We decided to make one more run before I was going to call it a day after one more run to continue resting my knees and Theone was going to swap out her demo skis for a different pair. What follows is the thank you note I sent to the Revelstoke Ski Patrol.

To the Entire Revelstoke Patrol,

The much overdue powder on Monday made eyes twinkle and legs tingle to experience carving turns through soft unbroken snow. Seemingly hidden off in the trees to skier's left of Burn Down some undulating unbroken fresh white mounds of snow beckoned. It was one of those places and moments that draws us to be in the mountains on skis or boards in the winter. The majesty, quiet solitude, and prestine white of the winter mountains fills our inner child with marvel, a quickening, peace, and delight. I imagine these things and those of your own special connection brought you to be on the mountain and part of the Revelstoke Patrol.

On that morning we found our paths intersecting. It began with me enjoying pillow soft floating turns down the fresh powder slope until reaching the very steep upturned gulch at the bottom of the pitch. Momentum, though slow by most skiers pace on the mountain these days, sent me crashing into the opposite side of the small gulch. With skis stopped short a frightening crunching sound could be felt and heard as my spine compressed vertically starting with the top of my head into the opposite side of the gulch. Tossed up gently after the impact onto the soft snow on my back, I grimaced feeling the pain in my neck and back and thinking, "that was bad." That 'crunch' was either the snow, my neck, or a combination. Laying there I immediately wiggle my toes and fingers to relief, but I was scared to move.

Rosie was the first patroller on the scene and the only one I was told their name. You all acted methodically, considerately, creatively, compassionately, and professionally as you worked to extricate me from the mountain safely without causing any further injury. I liked the use of tape to fit the neck brace. The inflatable backboard worked well. Your teamwork impressed. The warm packs in the armpits helped dramatically as the wet snow was beginning to soak and chill.

I enjoy sharing that at Revelstoke you need to save enough energy to ski down to the bottom for that last run. And here you patrollers were having to not only ski yourselves down, but to wrestling me down in the toboggan as well! You delivered me safe and sound to enjoy many more days of skiing and the mountains in winter.

Thank you so much for your care and expertise. Keep pursuing your passions. And keep enjoying the splendor and fun that winter offers!

Most Gratefully,

Lance

After the ski patrol transferred me to the ambulance at the bottom of the mountain, I was taken the short distance to the Revelstoke hospital. X-rays didn't show any fractures but the "deterioration due to age' of the bones left uncertainty. So the doctor ordered that I be taken to Salmon Arm about 1-1/2 hours drive away for a cat-scan. Theone had stuck with me handling some of my gear and clothing. She went home while I got "chauffeured". Skipping details, being stuck to a backboard or comparable for hours on end becomes painful and awkward when nature calls. The cat-scan only took 5-10 minutes with about a 30 minute wait to have the radiologist review the images. The accident took place about 10:15 in morning and the findings on my neck and back came in about 5:15PM. I was given the all clear. I was able to sit my now very stiff body upright and make a visit to the latrine. After I arrived back in Revelstoke, the doctor said I probably had some soft tissue damage giving me instructions on how to treat it and he took off the neck brace. The news was a massive relief. Now I'd only have to contend with being stiff and sore for a period.

I suppose I need to become more risk averse as well!

20240218

Portland, the land of grey teary clouds and the homeless.

I arrived into the city under a steady rain well after sunset the previous night. I was awakened the next morning by a phone call while in a deep slumber. My body may still be seeking to recover from the skiing crash earlier in the week. Rattling me was just as well to get me moving for the day.

Heading out under the overcast skies, walking took me east toward the Willamette river and the Little River Cafe. There I enjoyed a simple delicious breakfast and endless craft coffee. Almost everyone to a person whether with someone or alone was staring into their phones; a scene repeated all day long. The very quiet city along the river on this Sunday morning had me passing or staying clear to the side mostly joggers. Eventually reaching the Tilikum Crossing Bridge I slowed my pace to take it in and photograph it. The bridge serves pedstrians and public transport only to reach across the Willamette river. The river flows into the Columbia river at Portland contributing about 15% of Columbia's final effluent into the Pacific ocean some sevety plus river miles to the west. It was fun to reflect on the fact that my travels have followed the Columbia river northward, at Revelstoke, and now. Most of the Oregon population lives in the Willamette drainage basin. Once on the east side of the Willamette over the bridge, I turned north to visit the OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry) housed in a converted electric power generation building.

The OMSI must be one of the better hands on museums. You can launch water rockets, experience an earthquake, test paper flying designs, explore physics, mix chemicals, and the list goes on. One steam turbine generator remains in the discovery section of the museum. Young children engaged everywhere. The highlight for me is the Blueback retired submarine docked permanently in the Willamette river. The diesil electric vessel served in the U.S. Navy from 1959 until about 1990. Guided tours provide an intimate experience inside a real submarine including the captains quarters, helm and periscope room, torpedo room, bunks, galley, and power plant. The guide, who served on a nuclear submarine, stated with a hint of pride that the submarine did not rely on computers; everything was controlled mechanically and computations done by humans. This museum is definitely a must visit multiple times for young or curious people preferably when it's less crowded to play and discover.

A short walk took to a grownup activity - the Labyrinth Forge Brewing Company, formally the home of the legendary (if you follow these things) Hair of the Dog brewing company. The very chatty bartender originally from New York shared suggested places to visit geared more for a younger person. Bill's Kolasch beer was a pleasant slightly sweet ale.

Heading west back across the river I visited the Portland Historical Society. Most places on my list are closed on Mondays so I was being selective. I spent most of the visit on the third floor permanent exhibit. The information is a good balance of descriptions, pictures, and videos. My takeaways are that Oregon is a place that has prided itself on the idea of inclusivity but blatantly restricted the rights of African Americans, Indians, and Chinese. Oregon became a state in 1859 (before Colorado) as a 'free' state, but had laws not allowing blacks to live legally in the state; these laws became invalid after the Civil War, but weren't rescinded until the 20th century.

Portland is easy to walk about. The distances aren't too far being under a couple of miles to most things in the downtown area. It's a quiet city with little traffic or pedestrians whether weekend or weekday. The number of homeless is large being encountered everywhere. They are none threatening and I was only panhandled once. One individual was disrobing while laying on the sidewalk apparently having a bad drug experience. Another individual was preventing the person from hitting things or rolling into the street. There seems to be acceptance, support, and tolerance for the homeless. Tents are scattered around the city. The vibe of the city is layed back, peaceful, and safe.

I attended one of the Lan Su Chinese Garden new year performance celebrations. In the Chinatown section on the northend of downtown, it was a light fantastic show in the Chinese gardens lasting about 30 minutes with time to explore and enjoy the gardens and artwork.

20240219

Still in Portland, I spent the morning mostly at the Case Study Roasters coffee house writing up yesterdays blog. The coffee was delicious. The cinnamon roll not so much.

I walked down the long hill to Powell's Bookstore on the north side of downtown not far from Chinatown. The store occupies an entire block with three floor 1's and at least two more above that. The books are on the shelves in a dewey decimal system. There are so many rooms and racks I felt like I was back in the Colorado University Norad library. I've never seen a bookstore with such a massive collection. I haven't seen that many books in most libraries. People were buying baskets full of books. Even I made a purchase, but it was just one book. Then I sat in the coffee shop reading and relaxing.

I thought about a late lunch walking toward the southwest side of town and a Thai restaurant. It was closed for a break between lunch and dinner when of course was the time I stood outside. So instead I hiked up the steep Seattle style streets toward Washington Park. I passed many elegant homes one of which was a historical site originally built by a Jewish merchant CA 1890.

Washington Park is situated on the hillside and hilltop west and south of the downtown area. The first stop was a column dedicated to Lewis and Clark. Further on was the amphitheater and the International Test Rose Garden. It's winter so all the rows and rows of rose bushes are just spindly decapitated sticks. But I think if one closes their eyes and breaths deeply you can just see them and enjoy the fragrant aroma. Further up and just shy of the hilltop is the Japanese Garden. Again, it's winter and in this case the cost was $22 to enter and I thought - why bother? But then I did.

A Japanese garden turns out to be a place of aesthetics, balance, and nature intended to promote peace and reflection. Wandering along the paths even with most leaves missing, I found myself recalling past trips into the wilds. The garden had many gentle streams with small waterfalls creating soothing sounds. The twisting climbing and descending paths offered the feel of exploration. The rock gardens reminded me of looking out upon wave filled oceans. Yes, a Japanese garden is a soothing place to visit even in the winter. An added bonus was the house containing small ivory and wood carvings of fictional characters as well as people doing their normal daily activities.

For the walk back down the hill, one would think it would have been easy, but my right knee barked at me the whole way. Heart and lungs resist going up and the knees going down - I guess I need to find a flatter place to explore!

I stopped at the Asian food market. It's a collection of food trucks on a paved lot. The owner of the truck I purchased dinner from told me he'd just received notice to vacate. It had to do with the city demanding a drain be connected to the sewer and the owner of the land baulking.

Being Monday I expected more hustle and bustle, but the city was almost as quiet as it was on Sunday. I'll take my leave of Portland tomorrow to drive to Salt Lake City. It was a nice visit to the city of roses at the confluence of the Columbia and Willamette rivers.