I recently had the opportunity to travel to North Conway, NH to visit Marie “Titoune” Meunier and the folks at Wild Things.  Titoune started Wild Things in 1981 with John Bouchard after doing many impressive ascents in the mountains throughout Europe and South America.  Big traverses in the French Alps and the first ascent of the South Face Direct on Chacraraju Oeste in Peru’s Cordillera Blanca make her, as Jimmy Dunn elegantly put it, “a serious lady”.  She was also an innovator and early pioneer in the sport of para gliding which she and John brought to the States from her native Chamonix.  Along with being climbers building expedition climbing gear, they designed and manufactured their own paragliders during the history of their business.

Our goal for the time that I was there was to work on the design and refinement of the WT line of climbing packs.  Gaining some valuable insight while climbing in China coupled with the design and development work I’ve been focusing on involving the Covert hang gliding harness, I was excited to work with Titoune to come up with some improvements resulting in packs that I’ll be psyched to climb in this season.

Plus, I’d never been to that part of the country.  Seeing where a rich Eastern climbing history has, and continues to take place and the terrain surrounding Mt. Washington was an added bonus.

New shape and features on the Andinista

In the end, we did indeed re-design 3 packs of 3 different sizes in 4 days.  Progress was made and as I drove back to Boston for my long travel back to Missoula, I was stoked at what we had accomplished.  It was an honor to work with Titoune and along with productive days in the proto type shop, I was treated to amazing meals and great conversation at her place which overlooks the prestine mountains and granite domes of North Conway.

early mock up of the new Icesac

I can’t wait to get back and continue to help, in any way I can to develop new and current products in the WT line.  They are doing amazing stuff and their foundation and mission of climbing gear built for climbers, by climbers is alive and well. 

I recently began a journey.  One that I’ve always been curious about but, because of the requirments of time and money, never took seriously as something attainable for me.  But, when the stars all converged (in an almost startling way), I jumped at the opportunity, no pun intended.

Everyone has seen the videos posted on YouTube showing people from around the world flying what many refer to as a “squirrel suit”.  GoPro cameras have made following someone flying their wing suit at 120 mph, within feet of the terrain accessible, and most of us just watch in shock and awe.

Ramon Rojas and Laurent Frat

Over the years of flying hang gliders, I’ve often been drawn toward trying to fly my glider at high speed, close to the ground for as long as possible. 

Many of us are like minded that way.  Jeff O’brien, Zach Majors, Dustin Martin are all equally enthralled with this and yet, the high performance of our wings will generally only allow us to “strafe” the hill for short periods.  Only the Point Of the Mountain in Utah allows for consistent ground hugging at mach speed.

So, only naturally, I was attracted to the idea of being able to do what I was seeing people do in wing suits.  After all, head first flight, high speed and in the big mountains, what more can you ask for?  With that said, it’s also OBVIOUS that I would need a lot of prerequisite lessons and experience before even coming close to flying a wing suit in the mountains, more less close to terrain.  It takes hundreds of sky dives to get to the point of learning how to fly a wing suit, then, hundreds more with the suit from a plane while also gaining necessary experience with fixed object jumping (BASE), all taking many years of dedicated apprentiship before reaching those goals.  With consequence so high and absolutely no room for error, the slowest progression possible is the best.

Wanting to do this the correct way, I was lucky to have a good friend through Hang Gliding that happens to be very skilled and experienced in a wing suit.  We met when he approached me to help him get back into a glider after a few years off and later, agreed to be my “mentor” through the process of learning how to sky dive, BASE jump and eventually, learning how to fly a wing suit.

Under his guidance, I started the process by heading down to Lodi, Ca and the Parachute Center.  I spent 10 mins in the indoor skydiving center, IFLY, in San Fran where I began learning how to fly my body before meeting Ed Palowski at the drop zone for one on one instruction.  2 days of Ed’s wicked good instruction had me through my AFF and onto jumping as much as possible during the time I had left.  At the end of that first trip, I had 35 jumps and had passed the requirments with Ed to earn my A liscense.

During that trip to Lodi, I was lucky enough to share the experience with some great friends from Missoula.  Jesse and Hannah met me at the drop zone while on a road trip and both went through their own AFF certification program.  It was so cool to lob out of the plane with those guys followed by camping, laughing and re living each days adventure.  I’m hoping they continue so we can jump a bunch more together.  Jesse in particular, is as interested in BASE and wing suits as I am so I’m hoping he continues and we end up at an exit some day together.

Stay tuned if your interested.  I’m leaving to Lodi again tomorrow for more jumping.  I’m hopeful that I continue to learn and progress toward my first BASE jumps and toward getting to jump my wing suit.  More to come.

I was lucky enough to be invited to compete in this amazing venue by “the man”, local, HG instructor and tandem pilot, Rudy Gotes.  I’ve always wanted to see and visit Valle based on the photos I’d seen and the reports of strong lift, consistently flyable conditions and what sounded like a super cool town.

My good friend, Patrick Kruse and I met in LA, flew to Mexico City and enjoyed a casual 3 hr drive to Valle.  We were again, super lucky to be offered a place to crash at Rudy’s house, just 5 k’s from town.  Un-shortpacking our gliders in the sun with paragliders soaring a site in the distance promised for a great trip.

The next day, we had a nice practice flight, getting a tour of the area from my good friend, Rodrigo, whom I’ve flown with all over the world.  It was cool to see him and while on the radio, he was generous with his knowledge of thermal triggers, convergence and terrain considerations.  That, coupled with our own impression made me feel pretty race ready.

Unfortunately for me, a car accident a couple weeks prior (with some neck trauma) and/or something I ate caused for some serious issues on the first comp day.  None of the common stomach issues were involved but, after around 3 hrs in the air,  intense conditions and good racing had me out in front and on my way to goal.  Getting low, I was feeling dizzy and very nauseated.  Unable to concentrate, I landed and proceeded, with a monster headache, to puke my guts out for the rest of that day and all night.  Most is still a blur but, I woke the next day around 3:30pm, having missed the second day of racing.  Needless to say, after waking up to perfect clouds and what looked like ideal conditions, I was disappointed to have missed it.

The next day, I flew and, even though I lost my lunch 3 times on route, I raced in to goal feeling much better.  The following two days (although one was stopped because of storms on course) were some of the best flying I’ve done in the last few years.  Strong lift, base at over 14,000′ and courses that took us toward the snow capped Volcano that overlooks Toluca (where the Monarchs migrate).  So good!

The comp ended with a great party and lots of laughs.  I can’t overemphasize how amazing the local Mexican pilots are.  These folks are some of the most accommodating and kind people on the planet, as well as being great pilots.  I can’t wait to go back next season.  Sick or not, it was one of the best comps I’ve ever been to.  Media was present and the event was well organized.  The comp was run with professionalism and felt quite safe.  Retrieve was easy and with how this year went, I hope, and have a strong feeling that next year will be a much larger pilot list attending.  See you there!

Starting the crux - photo: Ryan Nelson

I’ve always found sport climbing to be directly applicable toward learning about body mechanics useful for mixed climbing, ice climbing and to help increase the level of fitness required to push my own boundaries for hard traditional routes.  For me, my new route “Relativity”, represents a step toward personal goals and I couldn’t be more stoked to finally be giving it, taking some lobs and making progress.  The movement is gymnastic, sequential and basically, so fun that my motivation is increased every time I go through the route (even in my head;-).

photo: Ryan Nelson

I’ve only had the opportunity to lead through it twice now, but as climbing in general tends to do, “Relativity” is helping me define and re define my own levels of understanding and experience.  I’ve been on a trip in Cali for two days now and I absolutely can’t wait to get back and continue the process, wherever that may take me.

Leaving the belay on what turned out to be the crux pitch. - photo: Chris Gibisch

With a full season of hopes for rock and alpine climbing just around the corner, Chris Gibisch and I decided to head into the mountains of Glacier National Park for a bit of adventure and training.  Our plan was to meet with a good friend and strong alpinist, Justin Woods, in Whitefish before skiing into the Snyder Lake Circ with intentions of climbing on the adventurous North face of Mt Edwards.

Unfortunately, work and obligations, coupled with a long drive resulted in the 4am wake up call coming far too early.  Around ¼ of the way into the long ski up to the circ, over exertion and no sleep factored into Justin becoming violently ill and he opted to bail.  Between dry heaves, he gave us the gear and showed the grit we know him for by shouting encouragement as he carried his skis back down the icy switchbacks.

Chris and I skinned up the trail as fast as we could but the time spent with our friend puking his guts out had the sun rising faster than we would have wished for.  Our plans evolved and we decided to shift our attention to the “Brain Stem Wall” on the South Face of Mt Brown.

The “Brain Stem” wall is a band of sedimentary rock (of the Proterozoic age) capped by Grinnell Limestone, which contains both moderate and steep ice climbs as well as some test piece mixed routes.  Knowing that there was still a plum or two to be picked, we were hopeful that we could find something to do.  As we skinned up the final approach slopes, we spotted a line that, surprisingly, neither of us had even considered in past visits.  On top of a short, 50’ blocky tower laid a line of steep cracks splitting through small roofs with faint patches of verglass and daggers occasionally pouring out from their depths.  It was a surprise that we both felt lucky to discover.

Chris and I arrived at the base to find that the now blazing sun caused us to sprint to a sheltered spot under the wall to avoid the bombardment from above.  Luckily, an hour or so later, weather rolled in and cooled things down so we could safely proceed.  Chris climbed the first pitch, which involved an awkward icy corner into a clean dihedral, which, he holstered his, tools and bare handed.  Above, the crux pitch played out with tricky gear and some interesting run outs but altogether presented quite fun and challenging climbing.

Climbing to the first anchor - photo: Chris Gibisch

For us, climbing a new route in the “Park” is always a special day. We decided to call it “Ventriculostomy” M7-R, because of the line’s character and to follow suit with the theme of the wall.  Although it was just a day of training, we arrived home late that night with another great memory from the mountains.

China was a unique and enriching experience.  It has definitely lit a fire within me to continue exploring new cultures, meeting interesting people along the way, and to try to allow my technical and mental limits to evolve while climbing in the mountains.

We began our trip in mid October knowing that the autumn, or post monsoon, was a good time to climb in the Daxue Shan.  The snow would be lean, the ice (hopefully) would be getting better every day and the temps would not be as bitter cold as later in the season.  The weather is always a roll of the dice on trips like this one but after researching the history and trends within the area, we were crossing our fingers for a few stable climbing “windows”.

Our expedition consisted of 5 people total.  Chris Gibisch and I would be climbing together, and our good friend Bob Garrety would join us for the experience; trekking, and climbing on subsidiary peaks during our acclimatization period.  Bob is an amazing dude with super positive energy and an easy going attitude about everything.  Our group dynamic was as relaxed as it gets.

Gibisch striking “Blue Steel”

Bob

The Sichuan Mountaineering Association had created a regulation requiring all foreign expeditions to be accompanied by at least two Chinese speaking personnel.  This fairly new regulation came on the coat tails of the tragic loss of Jonny Copp, Wade Johnson and Micha Dash during their attempt of a new route on Mt Edgar (right behind the mountain we had a permit to attempt).  Because of this, our Liason Officer, Papaya, and our cook and base camp attendant, Mr. Jong became the fourth and fifth members of our group.

Papaya and Jong are employees of Sichuan Earth Expedition, a company owned by the well known Zhang brothers, Jiyue and Shaohong.  For more than 30 years, Jiyue and Shaohong have been helping climbers and trekkers get in an out of the mountains by arranging permits, transport and organizing local horses and/or porters.  In fact, Shaohong made his first big trip as a guide, cook and base camp attendant for our good friends, Gray and Eloise Thompson in ’93 during Gray’s expedition to complete the first ascent of Mt Lamoshe in a nearby range.

The connection with Gray, coupled with learning that they were the same company Jonny, Wade and Micha had used for permits and as their L.O. (Shoahong and Jiyue were two of the first on the search for the missing climbers), I felt an immediate kinship with these two guys and knew our hassles would be minimal. Consummate professionals, their help and attitude toward our trip made it easy to become fast friends.

Beer, Sushi and Sake

Papaya, our L.O for the trip, was a 5′.2″ “spit fire” that spoke fluent Japanese and English, on top of her native Chinese. Although she had taken many trekking trips with Japanese clients, this would be her first time on a climbing expedition and her longest trip in the mountains.  Her translation and negotiating skills made everything proceed smoothly, even when our bus driver decided to go “on strike” during the trip to the village of Laouyling.

Papaya with our 3rd bottle of Sake

Late in the drive from the Sichuan capital, Chengdu, to Laouyling, well after dark and after many hours of rough roads and crazy passes, our driver decided he was “over it”.  He pulled off to the side of the road in Kangding (the “gate-way to Tibet”) and started demanding more money.  It was comical that after 12 hours of driving, he wasn’t going to take us another 20 minutes up the hill to our destination.

Papaya wasn’t having it.  After a heated exchange with the driver, a “Chinese fire drill” to extract our gear out of the back seats of the bus was all we could do.  She was not about to be ordered to do anything by this guy and, after how good she had been to us already, we immediately gained additional respect for her.  She was all up on it.  Within minutes of the bus driver taking off, she had a rig on it’s way to pick up Mr. Jong with our stuff and had us on our way to the village.

 
There we were met by Jiyue’s long time friend, Doji, a Tibetan Buddhist who had provided horses and horseman to climbers and trekkers for the last 3 decades.  Doji and his family took us into their home and made us a delicious meal of traditional Tibetan food.  The hospitality floored us.  Yak butter tea and laughs had us thankful for the huge experience the previous 4 days had provided.

 
A smoky room, complete with yak meat (hanging from the ceiling to dry),  Doji quietly repeating “Oṃ maṇi padme hūṃ” in front of a wood stove while counting each of his 108 beads, and our long travel had us all finally relaxing, feeling like we were starting to fit within the rhythm of this new world around us.

 
In the morning, we loaded up food, tents and gear for a month on Doji’s horses and walked up a valley in the light rain toward towering giants we had yet to see.  The cloud level was low and it was early that we were above base and within it’s blanketing white.  Rain gave way to light snow as we walked to the sound of the horseman’s whistles past bridges of logs and prayer flags spanning a braided river. Stopping in a flat saddle of sorts, we made camp at around 11,500′ just before dark.

It was to be a two day trip to BC but when we woke to a foot of new snow and the news that half of the horses had make a break for home, it was decided that we would wait a day to see what the weather had in store.  The horses were rounded up and we took the day as an opportunity to deal with the dull headaches that altitude and an uncomfortable lack of coffee had caused.

 
While loading up the horses for our second day of walking, we all took turns playing “blocker” to make sure that none could make a break for it.  One of the horses was charged with the task of carrying two large propane tanks, one of which had a valve that was apparently not completely tightened.  A loud hiss startled us as the horse ran at full speed with white propane gas spewing into the frigid air.  My amusement and shock turned into worry when I saw how much of our precious fuel was leaking while the horseman was running after the now VERY freaked out animal.  He managed to run it down and to twist the valve shut without too much damage done. Needless to say, when the last horse was loaded and we started uphill, all were relieved to again be making progress toward BC.

 
As we were finally cresting the hanging valley that would be home for the next month, the clouds started to part and we had our first views of the mountains we had come for.  Right above camp were three beautiful peaks, E. Gongga (or mini Gongga), Jiazi Feng and Ri Wu Qie Feng (aka Mt Grosvenor).  Mt Grosvenor, at 6376m, was steep, pyramidal and proud.  It’s West face looked “notably exciting”.

Jiazi Feng

 
We immediately went to work acclimatizing and establishing a high camp for the ability to sleep at altitude to prepare us further.  When a narrow weather window close to the half way point of our trip presented,  we jumped at our chance and were fortunate enough to climb a new route on the West face of Mt Grosvenor (3rd ascent of the peak) in 4 days round trip.

BC bouldering

 
We had Chinese and Russian neighbors that kept our time in BC social. It’s a Sichuan tradition to eat a group “hot pot” at least once a month. All of the traditional Sichuan food was amazing and very spicy but a hot pot is something that absolutely MUST be experienced.

 
Months earlier while doing research and looking at photos, we speculated at the possibility of the line we climbed but knew from experience that there was no way to tell from the photo whether or not it was possible.  We would have to get to the wall to find out.  I remember looking at the line as one of the biggest unclimbed routes on the face.  It looked potentially quite difficult and, honestly, I had very little expectation that this would be, in fact, something we would be able to attempt with any confidence toward success.  After the fact, I now feel privleged to not only have this line turn out to be possible but, to also climb it, well….. it felt like a XC flight where the next thermal was always there.

 
Our route was perspective changing, requiring us to dig into the deepest resources within.  Our second night on the face, close to the summit, was spent sitting on a small seats we had chopped in the ice, laughing and talking shit to keep us warm. Tethered tight to the wall, the altitude kicked our asses and the dry, cold wind howling off the Tibetan plateau was fierce but, on the up side, at least the stars were out.  I can’t overemphasize how lucky we were to have this 2.5 day span of good weather.

 
After summitting the next day, we raced a storm down the NE ridge.  Just as I threw a leg over the knife edge ridge to start rappelling down the east face, the fast moving storm overtook the mountain.  Timing couldn’t have been better as Chris and I were almost immediately in the lee and able to rappel most of the day out of the wind.  We had to camp in 100k winds that night but at least we could lay down for the first time in 3 days. The tent poles almost broke but actually being in the tent was luxury.

 
We woke to sunny skies and strong wind, brewed up, and started the long journey back to BC.  800′ of rappelling down the col between Jiazi and Grosvenor, down climbing through a couple of short ice falls and a purgatory of snow covered moraine found us stumbling back to our tents around 5pm.  Our route was over but the personal growth and re-defined perspective will last, burned into Chris and I both.

Finally arriving back at BC

Our time after the route was spent hiking, taking photos of future objectives and waiting for another window of weather that would never come.  I also had unfortunately cold damaged my toes and was having to be careful about not allowing them to get cold again. Actually, it was more likely a problem with circulation than cold I think.  Note to self, when climbing into a sitting bivi, COMPLETELY unlace your boots before stepping into the sleeping bag.  It was hard enough with my crampons off to hang on the anchor and get my sleeping bag up around me that I had forgotten to unlace the bottom section of my boots.  I think this was the main culprit to my numb and swollen toes (took over a month to come back).

partying down with the Russians post route

When time ran out, a quick 6 hour walk out to Doji’s had us quickly driving to the hot springs in town. Soaking up the moment, reliving the experience and talk about future trips and routes, our trip had and continued to exceed our expectations.  For us, it was a profound trip which has, as I said, fueled a burning desire for more. The suffering is gone and only the way this trip has changed me remains. Chris and I are anxious for the next opportunity and it’s because of our best attribute as an alpinists that the hard work and suffering to make it happen is gone.  Best attribute as an alpinist?  Easy….. a short memory;-)

I want to thank the amazing folks at Wild Things, KAVU, Black Diamond, Blueye, The North Face and Backpackers Pantry for the support.  Not only couldn’t I do what I get to do without you but your gear makes my time in the mountains confidence inspiring and, in the end, much more fun and comfortable.

Racking up

A-Strain

The reason behind my absence is that I was given a rare and exciting chance to go on an expedition to climb in the big mountains of Western China. Trying to balance quality time with the family, getting Coverts done for pilots around the world, training hard, tandems, teaching lessons and the endless logistics and bureaucratic red tape involved in a big trip to the Himalaya made it an obvious choice. I couldn’t do both, nor could I pass up the opportunity to fulfill the dream to try for a first ascent in one of the Greater Ranges. I am really hopeful that we will find wide experience and personal growth that will help with a solid head space for the Spring Comps. After all, it’s all about progress. We will be climbing in the Daxue Shan and have secured permits for two peaks of interest. I’m just hoping for reasonable conditions to allow us to get on a nice line and maybe even do something memorable.

10 new Coverts

Carsten Freidrich’s new harness

Speaking of progress, while making the last batch of new harnesses, I patterned a new, bilateral pocket which runs down both thighs. They almost double a pilots ability to store bags and pads in a Covert. Also, with the two pockets packed up, the outer shell behind the chute(s) has a much cleaner look and better tension. I’m really encouraged with how nice it makes the shell look (on top of easing the pack job by a lot). You can now easily pack the harness bag on one side, most pads on the other and pack your glider bag in either the big bag behind your knees or in the hollow boot, leaving the other empty. I’m hopeful it will be a well received addition and improvement to the design.

New pocket zipper is just below the leg loops

Rolled up harness bag in the new storage compartment

I did manage to sneak up to Canada for a 3 day blaster to do a “warm up” climb in the alpine with Chris, my partner on the China trip. We climbed on Mt Andromeda, up a route called “Andromeda Strain”. It was a great day in the mountains and cool to move light and fast up a beautiful line in the Rockies.

Flying hang gliders and climbing in the mountains is so inspiring to me. What I learn and how each experience becomes part of me helps shape my appreciation of work, family and friends. I feel so incredibly lucky to build harnesses for happy pilots, to fly WW hang gliders and to see the world in a way that allows for cultural perspective. If your at all interested, please stay tuned. I leave on the 11th of October and will be posting updates when we are back in Chengdu and out of the mountains.

Chris Gibisch

It was that time of the year again to leave the remains of Montana winter and to head toward Florida for two of the most competitive US Hang Gliding comps of the season. The thought of walking bare foot in cool grass with the sun on my back while setting up the glider always gets me so stoked to be a pilot. I mean, how good is it to converge with friends from around the world for consistently good racing under perfect clouds? Flying and racing every day for 2 weeks in Florida is my idea of pure life at it’s essence.

line up

blue days are social

Stinnett coming out of the cart on his new T2C 144

The first of the two competitions, named in memory for our good friend Rob Kells, took place at the Florida Ridge flight park, located just to the west of Lake Okeechobee. The Ridge is well equipped and is run by consummate professionals. James Tindle and his crew kept us all safe and efficient throughout the week. One of the best parts of the event is that there is a heavy emphasis on a Sport Class which enables newer comp pilots to learn and test themselves by flying challenging tasks accompanied by the ability to fly with more seasoned pilots. Really cool to see some of the up-n-comers making their first goals and flying their personal bests.

Sport class guys were rockin it

Zippy

The Rob Kells Memorial competition absolutely lived up to my excitement with dream like flying and good racing. One day in particular Curt, Zippy and I were working well together, flying as fast and as efficiently as possible down the day’s course line. So cool flying with these guys. During the strongest part of the day, we climbed tip to tip, circling in lift that was going straight to cloud base at close to 900 feet per minute. Just as we were about to be engulfed in the cloud, we pulled in and sped up to 60+mph to escape the lift before being completely “whited out”.

As we cleared the cloud, we all flew through the misty white at it’s edge and popped out the side above the cloud’s base and raced on through the cloud canyons formed by the quickly developing sky. I laughed when I looked down our course line at a perfect cloud street, knowing that we were about to fly it’s length without turning. It was one of those moments a hang glider pilot dreams about. Ahhhh, I love racing in Florida!

Dustino

The comp had it’s ups and downs and competitive excitement to the last day. With a field of close to 60 pilots, no injuries and 6 out of 7 days to race hard, the party at the end of the awards ceremony was lively, to say the least. The best part….knowing that we have only one rest day until the next comp and a whole new dream to live.

Jonny boy on the winning pink cart

Took the day off and advantage of a bright moon for an early start up into one of the alpine cirques in West Glacier Park. My friend, Justin Woods, lives in Whitefish so after work, I threw my gear in the truck and drove up the west shore of Flathead lake to his couch. After catching up and racking our gear, we got a short 3 hrs of sleep before getting up and drinking coffee during the short drive to the trail head.

It got light just as we were getting close to lower Snyder lake. With the inversion on Lake McDonald and blue skies above, it was promising to be a nice day. Startling how quite it was and much colder at the upper lake. We skied to the center and jaw dropped at the ice lacing the walls. “Lookin good, eh? Yea dude, looks good.”

Then…… The sun hit the mountain behind us and snow started to roll. We hymned and hawed for a long time while slowly cutting switchbacks up the slope toward the base of the wall. It’s prime avalanche terrain and we were trying to be smart but wind slabs and propagating cracks had us concerned. About half way up, right as it starts to get steeper, we dug a pit and surprisingly, it was fairly well bonded and felt pretty safe so we continued. After taking the skis off and kicking steps the last 200′, we stomped out a ledge and tied in.

Other than Justin taking a chunk of ice to the face when a good sized “dinner plate” came off while placing his tool, cutting the bridge of his nose and giving him a pretty good bell ringer, we had a really fun day on the North face of Edwards. I yelled down to him as he was cleaning a pitch, “how ya doin dude?”. “Kinda concussed man” followed by a laugh that let me know he was still lovin it. Funny how many of us (that like to climb ice) have that scar across the bridge of the nose. When he arrived at the belay, it was agreed that we were lucky indeed. That place is always good training…. for something;-)

An adventurous ski out with a long section of our skin track (from earlier that morning) being covered by a good sized swath of avalanche debris was a good reminder of where we were. The GNP is a super special place and demands respect. Back to work