The Waddington Hut trip

This past weekend, we went into the Waddington Hut in the Birkenhead area north of Pemberton.  

Ricky has the full report on rickyfederau.blogspot.com already.  

The hut was busy and another group wrote a trip report too.  They neglected to mention the incident and so I did.  They took it down, so here it is again.  

"You didn’t tell us about Sunday night, Louie.  Please, allow me.

To start, the Waddington Hut has a voluntary registration system.  There were 14 people registered to stay last weekend and around 30 at the hut.  If you plan to go, register here - http://www.ubc-voc.com/wiki/VOC_hut_registration.  You don’t have to, but you should.  It helps everyone to plan and know what to expect. 

On Sunday night, 29 of us listened to Kyle Miller drone on and on and on about himself as we tried to go to sleep.  Never before have I met such an obnoxious, self-absorbed jackass in the backcountry.  (Go to the hill!  You’ll fit right in.)  The quintessential FIGJAM (Fuck, I’m good.  Just ask me), a BIG DEAL.  He’s got a website:

“The “Where is Kyle Miller??” Project is a backcountry initiative dedicated to the exploration of new lines and dramatic descents in the Pacific Northwest and beyond.”

You call it a project, an initiative.  I call it a weekend.  Whatever.  I doubt this is the first time Kyle has referred to himself in the third person. 

Anyways, eventually even Kyle gets tired of listening to himself talk and we all go to sleep.   For an hour.

Then Louie gets sick.  He throws up.  On himself, on a few other people.  He looks like he’s going to do it again and he doesn’t move.  Someone says ‘Dude, you gotta get out of here’ and he wanders downstairs, leaving behind a loft packed tight with groggy skiers and a big mess.  It’s mostly box wine.

Most of Louie’s party disowns him, since they ‘all only met a few days ago’.  And they start making excuses - like ‘Well, he skied all day’.  Um, like we didn’t.  That’s kind of what people go to huts for.  We just didn’t get drunk on box wine.  Louie doesn’t come back upstairs.  Those puked on start cleaning themselves up, until KYLE TO THE RESCUE!  To be sure, Kyle helps, but he won’t stop fucking talking about how great he is for helping while he’s helping.  He also memorably says ‘Look, we’ve all been here before’.   We have?  Nope.  I guess that’s how the pros are different from the everyman.  Eventually, someone asks him to shut up and just go back to bed. 

Louie won’t talk to anyone the next morning.  No clean up.  No apology.  He just pretends it never happened.  Like in this trip report. 

Communal huts don’t work unless everyone acts as if they’re part of the community. 

Check your egos at the door."

For the record, Louie has since apologized.  It happens that huts can be busy and people get sick.  No one is pissed about that.  

I'm just bringing everyone back down to earth, where the mountains are big, the people are small, we forget about the rat race, and just have a good time.  You'll be a better skier for it, and (much more importantly) a better person.

Dudeman of the week - Vince Osborne

A few years ago, I got a call from Vince Osbourne.

Vince - Do you want to do this 36-hour adventure race?

Toby - OK.

Vince - Anything else you need to know?

Toby - I don't think so.  Oh wait, I guess I need to know when it is.

And we went from there.  

In that race, the harder it got, the more tired I was, the faster he seemed to go.  This guy saw briars and bogs and he put the gas pedal through the floor!  We've been chasing each other around the mountains on most weekends since.

Last weekend, Vince - whose age now starts with a 4 and with a baby on the way - is up front breaking trail, holding his own in a pull-up contest, and sending it down big pillow lines.

Photo: Yannick Letailleur

Full dudeman, Vince Osborne, full dudeman.

The Yaar! traverse

Earlier this month, Andy Traslin got some play for climbing both Yak and Nak mountains in the Coquihalla ski area in a day.  We see your Yak - Nak and raise you a Thar.

A few days ago, we considered doing the Nar (Nak - Thar) traverse, but once up there, we wanted to see it from the other side before we skied it.  So yesterday, Ricky and I set out to do laps on Thar to check it out.  This is what we ended up doing

No GPS.  Just great drawing with a mouse.

the Yaaar traverse, or Thar - Nak - Yar.  

There was already a skintrack in between Thar and Nak, but it eventually broke left and contoured around Nak.  We used it to start up Thar and then traversed around the bowl.  

From the back of the bowl.  Nak front right, Yak behind.

After skiing Thar, we returned to the track and took it all the way up Nak.  

Ricky scopes it out.  Nak and Yak from the top of Thar.

The weather wasn't great on top of Nak and there's awesome glades to ski below, so we did a run all the way down off it.  

As we climbed back out, vis improved and we decided to give Yak a shot as well.

The last pitch of Yak.

The climb up Yak is somewhat exposed, but less so if you go all the way to the saddle between Nak and Yak in the trees and then traverse across the face.  That's what we did.  The last 150 m. are steep, but yesterday, snow conditions were good.  That made for fairly straightforward climbing to the summit and great skiing right from the top.

Ricky, from the summit of Yak.

If you're just in it to bag the peaks, you could do it much more efficiently.  But there's great skiing on all three, so it's worth taking a few runs down along the way.

Hey Snowshoes! Step off my track, bro.

Last weekend,  we climbed up Nak at the Coquihalla to ski it.  A few times.  There were also some snowshoers there.  They apparently didn't want to break a trail.  So they used ours, and wrecked it.  So we made another one on the second lap.  Then they came down, used our new one, and wrecked it too.

Besides for safety, there aren't a lot of 'rules' in the backcountry and that's for the better.  I don't like people telling me what to do either.  But that doesn't mean there shouldn't be any etiquette.

The quintessential nature of the backcountry is of self-reliance.  When you go into the backcountry, you should be prepared to take care of yourself, fend for yourself.  That means, be prepared to rescue yourself, get stuck out there by yourself, and to blaze trail for yourself.  Not prepared to do that?  Go somewhere else.  There are resorts, lodges, guides, and trails that cater to exactly those folks.

These were those folks - for all intents and purposes, lost without the skintrack and not going very far if they had to do it for themselves anyway.

Now, I realize that someone else's trail is often the path of least resistance and, if it's there, I use it too.  But skintracks and snowshoeing trails are two different animals - one is for skiing; one is for walking.  I'm not going to ski all over your trail, and you shouldn't walk all over my track.  I also won't cut any overhead slopes on you or spray you in the face with blower pow.  Deal?

There's plenty of room in the backcountry to go around.

Dudeman, where's my car?

Vancouver won a prestigious award this week:

#2 in traffic!

The obvious solution is the triplet the Port Mann.

Or, people should just live closer to where they work.  If you work in Vancouver, live there.  If you live in Abbotsford and you're going to get in your car at 6 AM, it better be to the Coquihalla.  There is never a traffic jam heading east.  Ever.

The dudeman doesn't commute.  Rule number 8, or whatever rule we're on.

But the dudeman does need a car.  He's going places, just not to work.

I present three fully capable options.

The Classic Tercel wagon

Conquering the Mt. Cheam fire road.

It's four-wheel drive, it's got loads of space, and it's cheap.  This car will tackle anything, at speeds up to 80 km per hour.

The hail-damaged insurance write-off

It's ruined.

This can be any car, per se.  The important thing is that, although there's nothing actually wrong with it, it has no value.  Hence, there can be no further objections to racking up tons of miles and taking it places you probably shouldn't.

This Pathfinder

Dudeman makes a compelling case, which requires no further elaboration.  Unless you're this guy, he's not going to sell it to you.

When will flipflops be 'in-season' again?

My flipflops are slowly biting the dust.

This is their third duct-taping.  Initially, I didn't have time to go out and get new ones - I was on my way to Rossland for the Dudeman Games - and now it's apparently too late.  I don't think it should be too late.  

I wear flipflops year-round.  I don't think you have a very good life if you don't.

What's in the bag?

I fielded two questions recently which prompt this post.

1.  What luxury items do you take hiking?

2.  What's the #1 accessory I should get for my bike?

The answers...

1. and 2. None.

That's not to say you shouldn't take anything with you - you should take what you need.  If you take more than that, you're just weighing yourself down and you'll have less fun.  

This morning, I went for a run along the river pathway in town.  Being a Sunday morning, there are tons of 'serious' runners out on their long runs, and they are typically loaded down.  They have hats.  They have sunglasses.  They have ipods.  They have belts holstering half a dozen tiny waterbottles.  They almost always start overdressed, so they are also carrying jackets and gloves, etc... they have taken off.  Sometimes, they have gels taped to themselves.  They are on a path in the middle of the day and they are covered in reflective taping.  They mostly look miserable, as if they are engaged in some chore.  (Guess what?  No one, and I mean no one, needs to run.  And, for that matter, almost no one is going to accomplish anything running either...  that's a topic for another day.)

I've run around the reservoir from my house, which is about 38 km, a few times with half a (regular) waterbottle.  So I think that's what you need.

When I go into the mountains, and there is any potential to spend a night out (lost, injured, or with complete equipment failure), I think I should be prepared for that and so I take this:

(You should also bring a buddy.)

Granted, a night out with a space blanket, a lighter, and little food would be uncomfortable, but I would certainly survive (and I'm willing to prove it).  I would rather be uncomfortable in the unlikely circumstance of spending a night out than the rest of the time, saddled with a bunch of extra stuff.

I also take tools and materials to fix a flat and a chain, and make minor adjustments, if I ride my bike.  Those are likely circumstances (I got 8 flats in one day last month) and you should be prepared for those too.  I'd rather spend 5 minutes fixing something and carry a few extra ounces than spend a few hours hike-a-biking a few times a year.

Obviously, your individual preferences may vary, but for the most part, I just don't think most people are even thinking about what they actually need.