When Mali Noyes got on the phone with me on April 17, she was spent. Her exhaustion, miraculously, wasn鈥檛 from the physical effort of her latest project: skiing every line in the famous Utah backcountry听skiing guidebook The Chuting Gallery, by Andrew Mclean, as fast as possible; she was frazzled by the mental toll of exposing herself to hazards and dangerous terrain day in and day out.

“The mental fatigue is so intense that it鈥檚 hard to wrap my head around,” Noyes told听国产吃瓜黑料.

Noyes, 35, works as a pro re nata nurse (an on-call schedule) at the Huntsman Cancer Institute in Salt Lake City. After clocking out of a shift on Tuesday, March 11, she began her skiing objective鈥攚hich she calls “Project Rapid Fire”鈥攅arly the next morning.

Noyes skinned up Broad Fork in Big Cottonwood Canyon and skied down the east face of Twin Peak, followed by the Stairs Gulch. The standout lines were highlights due to the beautiful exposed skiing, and massive vertical drop down the gulch. She immediately began ticking off technical, steep, and hazardous ski descents up and down the Wasatch mountain range. When we spoke, she had skied 77 lines in 37 days, including just seven rest days.

鈥淭he crux for me hasn鈥檛 been the vert,鈥� Noyes told 国产吃瓜黑料. 鈥淢y brain has been doing so much decision making day after day, skiing objective hazards. I feel a little trapped in the process.鈥�

The Chuting Gallery was published in 1998 while McLean was working as an engineer at Black Diamond. The book has become the quintessential document of the Utah backcountry skiing scene, and anyone who skis every descent in the book cements their name in ski history. Caroline Gleich was catapulted into the spotlight after becoming the first woman to ski every line in the book. The book details 90 of the hardest backcountry ski lines in the Wasatch Mountains that loom over Salt Lake City. Many skiers argue over the final number of chutes, since the book often describes areas that are home to multiple couloirs. Noyes has determined her number to be 93.

“Andrew McLean鈥檚 writing and book captured my imagination,鈥� Gleich told Backcountry magazine. 鈥淚t gave me a roadmap to becoming a ski mountaineer. His quirky book became a shaping force in my career, and I鈥檓 grateful for his leadership and vision in writing The Chuting Gallery.鈥�

Noyes’ idea to ski all 93 lines in succession was born during the 2023 winter, when Utah received over 900 inches of snow. 鈥淚 was having so much fun skiing big objectives, and I started linking up more and more of them at once,鈥� Noyes said. Also a professional big mountain skier, Noyes began her athletic career as a Nordic ski racer. 鈥淚 just love long days, and the logistical and strategic challenge of skiing all 93 couloirs in The Chuting Gallery in record time excited me.鈥�

Prior to launching her project, Noyes shared the idea听with fellow professional backcountry skier听Cody Townsend, who is her mentor and teammate on the Salomon backcountry team. She told Townsend she was waiting for the right year for this project. Noyes wanted all the snow conditions to align perfectly. Some of the听Chuting Gallery ski lines descend rocky and exposed terrain, and require a deep snowpack to be skiable.

But Townsend told her she鈥檇 never find the perfect year, and that she should take on the challenge as soon as possible. 鈥淚t鈥檚 through the suffering and bad snow conditions that you make the experience your own,鈥� he said to Noyes.

The March 12 start date was less than ideal. Noyes started so late in the season because she was waiting for avalanche danger in the Wasatch to subside. The late start didn鈥檛 hamper her early in her mission, but as she kept ticking off chutes and March rolled into April, the remaining ski descents melted quickly.

Many of these ski lines are clustered in the same drainages, but while in years past Noyes has been able to complete multiple descents in a day, this year, the hot April sun shortened the windows during which those couloirs would be safe from wet avalanches. This means that Noyes has only been able to ski one or two of those chutes in a day. She has had to repeatedly bushwack and hike far into gullies that on a different year she鈥檇 only have to visit once.

鈥淎 week ago I slipped in a creek on the way to the Y-Couloir in Little Cottonwood Canyon. I broke down and began to cry,鈥� Noyes said. 鈥淚 wondered if I still loved skiing, and why I was skiing this shitty snow over here instead of great snow elsewhere because of this list.鈥�

But Noyes has a new strategy to deal with the mental crux. 鈥淓very time I scream and tell myself 鈥業 fucking hate this,鈥� I鈥檝e tricked my brain into saying 鈥業鈥檓 really fucking good at this.鈥欌€� And she is. Noah Howell, a legendary Wasatch skier, took 13 years to complete the guidebook. Caroline Gleich skied every line in The Chuting Gallery over the course of four years. Noyes is on track to finish out the book in less than two months.

She鈥檚 had great days, like when she linked three lines on Kesler Peak in Big Cottonwood Canyon in stable powder. 鈥淚t was a 10,000-foot day with a good crew and great snow,鈥� Noyes said. She owns a home nestled听in Little Cottonwood Canyon, and hasn鈥檛 explored the neighboring canyon enough. She told 国产吃瓜黑料 that this project has been an amazing way to branch out of her skiing bubble. Noyes also skied the Great White Icicle鈥攁 popular ice climb that is in the book as a novelty and is often skied on rappel鈥攐n snowblades at night. Noyes jokingly called that a first descent of its kind.

But it hasn鈥檛 been all bluebird powder days. 鈥淚 had a week where I had three close calls in four days,鈥� she said. 鈥淭hat felt like it broke my brain a little, like 鈥業 have to keep going back into these mountains that are trying to kill me.鈥欌€�

Her least favorite day of the project so far was when she skied Lisa Falls with New Zealand pro skier Sam Smoothy. The ski line is at a relatively low elevation, and the very top of it commonly avalanches and collects windblown snow. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a complicated 5,000-foot approach, and the second the sun hits the face it can shed,鈥� she said. Noyes and Smoothy began at 2 A.M., planning to climb the line, ski it, and climb it again to link up with faces on the other side of the peak. But Smoothy didn鈥檛 feel well that day and they were moving slower than they wanted. Sunlight hit the face when they were climbing and the couloir heated up quickly. 鈥淚t was way more danger than I ever wanted to put myself in,鈥� she said. The skiers were able to descend safely, but they saw many natural avalanches on their way out of the canyon.

Her latest lines have looked the hardest, as a melting snowpack has revealed multiple rappels with sketchy-looking anchors in the middle of the couloirs that are sometimes fully skiable. 鈥淩opes slow things down, and they can create other hazards鈥� Noyes told 国产吃瓜黑料. 鈥淭wo days after Lisa Falls, I went into Hogum Fork to ski a line called Montgomery, which had a rappel at the bottom. But we couldn鈥檛 find an anchor, and it took so long that the snow heated up and started shedding.鈥�

Noyes lamented that if she hadn鈥檛 been chasing this project, she would never have been in that spot. But she said days like that provide good teachable moments. She鈥檚 been getting up even earlier, often at 1 A.M. to beat the heat.

Risk to life and limb is just one aspect of her stress. Noyes told 国产吃瓜黑料 that her cat, Beater, has been a source of concern. After a coyote ate a neighbor鈥檚 cat, Beater hasn鈥檛 been allowed out at night. But at 1 A.M., Noyes isn鈥檛 always alert enough to stop him from slipping out of the door. 鈥淗e鈥檇 snuck out the night we left for Lisa Falls, and I鈥檇 be lying if I said he wasn鈥檛 adding to the pure stress I felt that day,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 saw him dashing into the woods, and all I could do was tell him, 鈥楳ake good choices, bud.鈥欌€�

When asked about how she鈥檚 been able to maintain her motivation throughout the challenge, Noyes is quick to credit the large group of friends, most of whom are professional skiers, who have rallied to ski these couloirs with her. 鈥淪kiing is not an individual sport,鈥� Noyes told 国产吃瓜黑料. 鈥淭his isn鈥檛 a Mali project, it鈥檚 a community project.鈥�

Noyes has to work a minimum of two days a month at the Huntsman Institute to fulfill her contract. She鈥檚 hoping to finish Project Rapid Fire with enough time to clock back in for two days in April.

Update: Mali Noyes completed her 93rd and final line on April 27, completing听The Chuting Gallery听in just 47 days.

The post This Nurse Just Skied Utah鈥檚 Hardest Descents in Record Time appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

The sun had set by the time I reached the top of the skin track on Earthquake Dome, a popular backcountry skiing zone near my home in Mammoth Lakes, California, and I hadn鈥檛 packed a headlamp. It was a February evening and I鈥檇 driven ten minutes from my home in town to ski an after-work lap. I鈥檇 overestimated my speed and underestimated the low winter sun, and now I was transitioning a pair of uniquely shaped skis鈥攕o rockered they looked like a banana鈥攆or their first ever lap downhill. I couldn鈥檛 see a thing and just prayed I wouldn’t slip and take a pratfall like in a cartoon.

A few weeks earlier I sat on a Zoom call with Xan Marshland, the co-founder of WNDR Alpine. Marshland had wanted me to test the Intention 108, the Salt Lake City-based brand鈥檚 flagship ski made partially with stringers of an algae-derived plastic. Very few ski manufacturers put polyurethane (i.e. plastic) in skis right now, typically opting for combinations of wood, fiberglass, carbon fiber, and aluminum alloys. But polyurethane is an engineered material, meaning ski makers can tune its stiffness, rebound, and vibration damping properties to make the ski do exactly what they want. And only WNDR’s plastic is fully renewable. Marshland believes that not only does the algae make WNDR’s skis eco-friendlier, but it also makes them perform better. 鈥淚n the mountains, materials matter,鈥� he told me.

I鈥檝e tested skis for a living for the last five years, and I have long been skeptical of space-age and eco-friendly materials being responsible for marked increases in performance. But as I’ve spent more and more time on the WNDR Intention 108, it has turned into my favorite ski ever made.

Unfortunately, the future of WNDR Alpine is unknown at this time. The company recently put all of their skis and snowboards on clearance and seem to have sold the entirety of their backstock. Marshland told me that the brand has some prospective buyers in the wings, but did not offer specifics. It seems that, without a fresh infusion of cash, WNDR Alpine may fold entirely. I, for one, hope the brand finds a new home and continues to be a driving force of innovation and sustainability in skiing.

How Does WNDR’s Algae-Based Plastic Affect Ski Performance?

Standing atop Earthquake Dome that night and clicking into the skis, it was time for the algae-based plastic to hit the snow. (People say that, right?) I let my headlamp-equipped fianc茅e lead, figuring I could follow her light through the maze of tight trees back to the car. I followed, skiing by the faint, quickly-receding glow of white鈥攎y only guide. After getting used to the ample rocker (e.g. after a few tumbles in the dark) I began to increase my speed and feel what Marshland had described on our call in the ski鈥檚 construction. The Intention 108 was remarkably damp, the polyurethane in its core muting the vibrations that should have been transmitted to my body from the firm and choppy snow that had been sitting for a few weeks since the last storm.

As I began to ski the WNDR Intention 108 more and more in the coming weeks, I realized that the plastic was the secret sauce鈥攖hat it was sustainably sourced was just icing on the cake. Think of it like a ski boot. Heavier ski boots designed for expert skiers, and ski racers in particular, are made from a heavy polyurethane that is formulated to produce a smooth, progressive flex when a skier drives their shins into it. That flex then rebounds, popping a skier into their next turn. This ski had the exact same feeling鈥攖he dampness, the stability, and, when pushed, the return of energy that drew me across the fall line.

Why I Love Skiing the WNDR Intention 108

Since that first tour, I鈥檝e been skiing the WNDR Intention 108 whenever I can. Though I mounted them with a lightweight pin binding for backcountry skiing, I often ski them at the resort when the snow is soft. I鈥檝e traveled with the Intention 108 to Canada for my bachelor party at RED Mountain Resort, I鈥檝e skied waist-deep powder, bulletproof wind-crusted snow, and even rappelled with them into a 55-degree couloir with dubious sun-crusted ice. With its substantial weight, I could see putting a hybrid binding like the or ATK Hy Free on it and skiing it both in and out of bounds.

I鈥檝e skied many hundreds of different pairs of skis in my life, but the Intention 108 is hands-down my favorite. I trust it high in the mountains, deep in the backcountry, and in a variety of snow conditions. I ski more bad snow than good, and these skis are not just dependable鈥攖hey鈥檙e so much fun.

You can tame the loose, unlocked feel of the Intention 108’s full rocker shape听by putting the ski on edge, or听听fully embrace it by skiing it on a flat base.听In steep terrain with firm snow鈥攖he conditions many experts will tell you necessitate having camber under your feet鈥攖he Intention 108 can pivot and slide, making it easy to hop turn down sketchy stuff.听The full rocker profile also makes the Intention 108 is easy to ski in moguls and听air off the slightest bump or takeoff. It even carves surprisingly well for its width and lack of traditional camber. I鈥檝e never ridden a ski that possessed such mind-boggling versatility.

An obvious sticking point for a lot of skiers will be the Intention 108’s weight. In a 188 centimeter length, this ski weighs 2,000 grams. That’s a lot for most skiers to lug uphill, but WNDR doesn’t bill the Intention 108 as a dedicated backcountry ski. If your average day in the mountains has you clocking more than 3,000 to 4,000 feet of elevation gain, you may want to consider a lighter ski.

But for me, with a lightweight tech binding (a ) and a medium-weight AT boot (the ), I find that I don’t start to drag below 4,000 vertical feet. Even on huge days in the backcountry, the ski’s weight can be advantageous鈥攐n long tours in the high alpine you often encounter all sorts of weird and difficult snow textures; the Intention’s weight can help mellow out rough conditions.

I wish more ski manufacturers would consider putting polyurethane in their products. Regardless of the sustainability, which is awesome, they鈥檙e just more predictable than twitchy, carbon-filled backcountry skis, or even solid-wood core alpine skis. WNDR’s algae-based plastics and resins replace toxic glues and petroleum products in their skis, leading to a ski that’s both easier to recycle and less harmful if it ever does end up in a landfill.

Granted, skiers who prioritize edge hold in nasty snow will want to opt for a cambered ski. Those skiers are in luck: the Intention 108 also comes in a cambered shape.

Making Skis More Sustainably

WNDR made a move last year to make their Intention 108 in the Sideways Sports (SWS) factory in Dubai. The idea was to bring their algae oil technology, developed by WNDR’s parent company, Checkerspot, to a facility that also makes snowboards for Arbor, Jones, and Liquid Force. Once the factory knows how to use the microalgae-oil plastic, they can use it in other brands’ products.

I have mixed feelings about this.

On the one hand, making their product in a facility that uses 100-percent green energy is a huge win. And I’m hugely supportive of the sharing of ideas that could make the snowsports industry less harmful to the environment. The SWS factory also has the capability to produce a binding plate made from the factory’s own reclaimed waste that is 35 percent stronger than the industry standard. That means fewer bindings rip out of skis, and fewer skis end up in the dumpster.

That said, making skis in Dubai鈥攆ar away from the snowsports world鈥攙astly increases product shipping distances, requiring more fuel and energy. Dubai also has a suspect history with labor rights and safety standards that shouldn鈥檛 be overlooked. My greenwashing (and ) antennae tend to prick up when I hear of sustainability and the United Arab Emirates, but I leave that for the reader to parse.

That said, I am certain that WNDR Alpine is good for the ski industry. Though its future is uncertain, I hope the company finds a competent buyer and continues to push skiing forward. In the meantime, you can find me high in the alpine through the summer months with the Intention 108 under my feet.

The post I’ve Tested Hundreds of Skis, But this Ski Made from Algae Is My All-Time Favorite appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

The sun was setting over the South Face of 12,972-foot Mount Robson, the highest peak in the Canadian Rockies, when Canadian professional ski mountaineer Christina 鈥淟usti鈥� Lustenberger and IFMGA guide Guillaume 鈥淕ee鈥� Pierrel decided to bail on their climb.

The two were attempting a first descent of the peak’s Great Couloir on February 13, and were just 650 feet shy of the summit when they decided to turn around.

“At that point we thought ‘Oh my God, future me would wanna go back, but I need a break from this.'” Lustenberger told听国产吃瓜黑料.

Lustenberger and Pierrel, hot on the heels of their astounding听set of first descents on New Zealand鈥檚 12,218-foot Mount Cook, were attempting to put their stamp on a face that has tested mountaineering greats for generations. Famed Canadian alpinist Barry Blanchard established a route called “Infinite Patience” on the mountain鈥檚 Emperor Face 2002, and in 2016, the late Marc-Andr茅 Leclerc climbed that route solo.

Canadians Ptor Spricenieks and Troy Jungen skied the first descent of the peak in 1995, a line that would later enter the book . Their line, the North Face, has only been skied once since, by .

鈥淩obson holds the names of so many legends of skiing and climbing,鈥� Lustenberger said. 鈥淚t鈥檚 iconic in so many ways and for Gee and I to put our names up there with those greats is incredibly meaningful.鈥�

Lustenberger and Pierrel鈥檚 descent on that first attempt would prove to be much more difficult than the climb. The skiers had to reverse several pitches of mixed rock and ice climbing, ski some of the worst snow they鈥檇 ever encountered, and rig seven rappels through sections of decaying sedimentary rock and vertical ice鈥攁ll in the dark.

The pair began their first attempt on February 13, and had attempted to climb the south face over two days, setting up camp halfway up the mountain while temperatures dropped below minus-13 degrees Fahrenheit.

On the way down, they packed up their camp and descended carefully. The Great Couloir is shaped like a giant funnel, and the further Lustenberger and Pierrel descended, the greater the risk that falling rock and ice could injure or kill them. The two ski mountaineers exited the lower gully through a section of trees so tight they had to remove their skis. They finally returned to their motor home at 10 P.M.

“On that first attempt, the snow was so bad,” Pierrel told听国产吃瓜黑料. “Hard, icy, all the stuff fell down the chute that day made little bumps and waves. The skiing was terrible.”

After regrouping in the nearby town of Valemount for a few days, Lustenberger and Pierrel returned to Mount Robson with a film crew. The team flew to the east side of the mountain and began climbing the Kain Route, a world-famous alpine climb, on February 15.

It had snowed during their break in Valemount, and conditions were much better for skiing when they returned. 鈥淢t. Robson creates its own weather system,鈥� Lustenberger said.

The skiers set out in sub-zero temperatures鈥攊deal for keeping the rock and snow glued into place. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 why I invited Gee to come in February,鈥� she said. 鈥淩obson has such a big South Face that we wanted to limit solar radiation. The sun is so intense in March that it would shed. Earlier than February, the days are too short.鈥�

Luckily, the snow didn鈥檛 hide the rappel anchors the duo had placed on their first attempt a few days prior, which sped up their descent from the summit. This proved to be key for their safety in The Great Colouir.

鈥淚t鈥檚 like playing Russian Roulette, a game of chance,鈥� said Pierrel. 鈥淲e called the lower part of the descent the Cascade. You鈥檙e funneled through these little gullies. We can control how fast we move through those gullies but not what comes down on our heads.鈥�

In recent years, Lustenberger has skied lines that have previous ski mountaineers haven’t even considered鈥擱obson, Cook, the Great Trango Tower. These ski lines are essentially ice climbing routes that Lustenberger has descended on skis.

国产吃瓜黑料 asked her and Pierrel how they approach these routes, given the increasing danger around each objective.

鈥淲hen you step into that line you鈥檙e accepting a huge amount of consequences that you can鈥檛 control,鈥� said Lustenberger. 鈥淚 think that鈥檚 part of being in the mountains. But I felt like Mount Robson was an important part of my vision and journey. It was something I felt viscerally compelled to do.”

Lustenberger said she’s assessed the south face of Mount Robson for a decade. “I decided to go this season because my requirements lined up. After skiing with Gee in New Zealand, I knew I had a partner that I trust completely and move really well with in the mountains,鈥� Lustenberger said.

Pierrel is a guide, and he is accustomed to operating with much wider margins of safety. 鈥淭his was so far from the style of risk management I often use in the mountains as a guide,鈥� he said. 鈥淎t one point I said 鈥業鈥檓 too old for this shit, I鈥檓 not made of iron like you Lusti.鈥欌€�

Pierrel said that by the end of the descent he was physically and mentally exhausted from the stress of being exposed to falling rock and ice. 鈥淧ersonally, I pushed pretty close to the maximum,” he added.

On February 16, after their painfully close attempt three days prior, the two ski mountaineers reached the summit and then carved their signatures down the South Face of the Rockies鈥� most formidable peak.

“Robson is the King of the Rockies,” Lustenberger said. “It’s elevation relief and scope is real, Himalayan-style terrain sitting in the Canadian Rockies. I am so relieved to be on the other side of this project. It鈥檚 been a dream in the making, one I had thought about for years. My ski partner Gee was a force and we worked hard as a team. Constantly pushing ourselves and each other to another level.”

Their film about the expedition, produced by production company Sherpas Cinemas, will come out in late 2025. As for what鈥檚 next? Pierrel hinted his interest in attempting to ski Mount Everest鈥檚 Hornbein Couloir, a line he describes as extremely similar to Robson鈥檚 Great Couloir鈥攊f it sat on the Roof of the World.

But first, both skiers told 国产吃瓜黑料 they needed a relaxing trip to the sauna.

The post The South Face of Mount Robson Sees a First Ski Descent appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

There鈥檚 no other way to put it: My skier friends and I are hedonists. We chase the pleasures听of a 100-day ski season, cold snow splashing in our faces as we make turns in deep powder. We stay up late dancing, eat fondue and sip a cold beer on a sundeck under an azure sky. We minimize discomfort by shelling out beaucoup bucks for absurdly expensive outerwear and spend hours in a ski shop tweaking our plastic foot-coffins.

Despite this dogged commitment to skiing, I’ve recently made a compromise, to preserve my sanity while chasing snow 12 months a year, to maximize pleasure and minimize pain, I will no longer wake up at the crack of dawn on powder days to chase bottomless turns alongside the early-risers.

I know. I know. That鈥檚 what it鈥檚 all about鈥攖here鈥檚 an early morning ritual that skiers hold sacred. Rise early, brew coffee or grab a cup and a breakfast burrito at the local cafe, boot up in the lot well before the bullwheel spins, and snag first chair and an untracked run.

For dedicated skiers, that experience is universal. But I鈥檓 over it. My old early morning routine will give you a clue as to why.

It went something like this: I’d wake up bleary-eyed (I have never been a morning person) at 6 A.M. Fumble upstairs and realize the temperature of my living room has dropped to 48 degrees Fahrenheit.听

After an arduous experience shoveling and loading the car, I would drive to the mountain. Rubbing a slim circle in the fog on my windshield so I could see if I was still on the road, I would hit traffic. Some crossover driver who thought all-wheel drive is the same thing as having snow tires spun off the road and stalled the creeping line of also ill-equipped cars to a standstill.

By the time I make it to the resort, boot up, and get in the lift line, I can see nothing but ski tracks on every bit of choice terrain on the hill.

It’s just not worth it. I鈥檓 done waking up early for pow days.

If you鈥檝e read this far, you鈥檙e probably thinking, 鈥淒oes this guy even like skiing?鈥� No. To be clear:听I love skiing. I eat, sleep, and breathe skiing. I’ve built my life around it to the point where I live 20 minutes from the resort, an incredible privilege that has ravaged my savings account to its core. In fact, I’m so obsessed with the sport that I couldn鈥檛 care less what kind of snow conditions I ski. Skied up chop is just as fun to me as deep powder, so I鈥檒l be as happy showing up at noon on a powder day, just as the early birds are starting to leave from their primo parking spots.

I鈥檒l spend the afternoon hours popping off soft moguls, finding air anywhere and everywhere. I鈥檒l hunt for stashes of snow that the wind has picked up and recirculated. I鈥檒l lap the chair that crowds have abandoned, thinking it鈥檚 all been skied out and laugh as I find pockets of pow and ski right back onto an empty chair lift.

I鈥檓 a backcountry skier too, and I live among a range that is more than 200 miles long and populated by fewer than 15,000 people. So don鈥檛 worry. I still ski powder. But to me, that鈥檚 no longer what resort skiing is for. It鈥檚 for hot laps with your friends and not stressing over morning lines, car accidents, traffic, or powder panic.

This weekend it鈥檚 going to snow another foot and a half, and you can find me lapping Mammoth Mountain鈥檚 Chair 22, the best chairlift on earth, from 2-4 P.M. Because I鈥檓 a hedonist, and I鈥檒l be having more fun than anyone else on the mountain.

Jake Stern is a digital editor at听国产吃瓜黑料. He spends the winter months skiing as much as humanly possible. He just needs his beauty rest.

The post Getting Up Early on a Powder Day Is Overrated appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

On October 17, professional ski mountaineers Christina “Lusti” Lustenberger and Guillaume “Gee” Pierrel sunk their ice tools into the shoulder of New Zealand’s highest peak, 12,218-foot Aoraki, also called Mount Cook. They ascended the mountain under darkness, climbing over snow, rock, and ice beneath the aurora australis. Clicking into their skis atop their new line at 8 A.M., they spied the full moon and prepared to drop into their third big-mountain ski descent in just four days.

“We went on a bit of a rampage,” said Pierrel.

The line they descended, which they named Hunter’s Moon, after the Kiwi name for the full moon, was the most dangerous and demanding that either had skied. “Every single turn we made on that face had a serious consequence, because of the exposure,” Lusti told 国产吃瓜黑料.听

Lusti and Pierrel met on a North Face team trip in Chamonix this year, and quickly developed a strong ski partnership. Pierrel is an IFMGA guide known for skiing steep and technical descents in his home of Chamonix, but he’s also descended lines in the Himalayas and the Andes. In 2021, he skied a first descent from the summit of Gasherbrum II in Pakistan in alpine style with no supplemental oxygen.

Lusti, meanwhile, has scored several noteworthy accomplishments in 2024, including the first descent of Pakistan’s Great Trango Tower with Jim Morrison and Chantel Astorga on May 9. But the duo’s New Zealand rampage marked new territory for them both.

 

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Lusti first spotted Hunter’s Moon when she entered the Southern Alps on September 28. When Pierrel arrived on October 1, she decided to partner up with him to tackle a few lines.

New Zealand’s Southern Alps is home to famously fickle weather. The range is extremely close to the ocean and storms blow in quickly and often without warning. Lusti and Pierrel had spent the week prior skiing from a hut near Aoraki, but high winds and blowing snow kept them from being able to access their biggest objectives. During that time, they connected with Kiwi skiers Sam Smoothy and Will Rountreei, local legends who have been quietly ticking away extreme skiing in the range for the last few years. Together, the four athletes skied the Bowie Couloir, another line on Aoraki. Smoothy and Rountree’s efforts have brought attention to skiing in the Mount Cook Range, and Lusti and Pierrel credit the New Zealanders for piquing their interest.

“Sam and Will have shed some light on the steep skiing in this range,” said Pierrel. “They’re bringing a new vision to New Zealand and we got on that train.”

Once the snow stopped falling and their weather window opened, Lusti and Pierrel took full advantage of clear conditions. They first climbed and skied the glaciated southeast face of 9,853-foot Mount Dixon. They named their route the 鈥淢ullet Direct,鈥� in honor of the alpinist Mike Gardner, an inspiration to both Lusti and Pierrel. Then, just two days later, they skied the cracked-up east face of 10,856-foot Mount Vancouver. The pair named that first descent 鈥淯ncle Pete,鈥� for Lusti’s uncle, who died a few days later鈥攂ut not before he saw photos of the line they dedicated to him.

On October 17, the duo began climbing Aoraki to ski by far the most demanding line either skier had ever attempted. Lusti and Pierrel climbed the rarely-repeated Jones route on the mountain’s east face, a sustained 55-degree series of ice and rock runnels that ascends from the mouth of the Caroline Glacier to the shoulder of the peak. “Our vision was always to descend this intricate ramp system further skier’s right,” Lusti said. “We started their descent at 9:15 A.M. in unforgiving icy snow conditions. Committed to the exposure, one turn at a time, we pushed each other out of our comfort zones.”

The icy surface required the utmost precision and attention, but Lusti and Pierrel were able to link turns down the entire face, save for one short section of glacier ice near the top that was too firm for their edges. They made a short rappel to navigate that section.

The ramp they skied looked improbable from the glacier floor, and even climbing up the pair of skiers could barely make out that it was skiable. Pierrel had spotted the exit ramp during an aborted attempt on the Jones route the week prior, which allowed the duo to escape the line cleanly on skis without needing to rappel. They backed off on the earlier attempt because the strong winds ripped the snow off the face, leaving bare ice.

But when the storm subsided, the gap of nice weather was longer than Lusti and Pierrel anticipated. That amount of time let them get acquainted with the snow quality and boosted their confidence when the time came to climb and ski Aoraki. “Going back-to-back with the lines like that allowed us to build a really intimate relationship with the snow conditions,” Lusti said. “We were so in tune with how the snow was changing that we were able to step out further each day into steep and dangerous terrain.” By the time the duo听dropped in on Hunter’s Moon, they were able to anticipate some of the surprises the mountain threw at them.

New Zealand’s finicky snowpack added to the descent’s difficulty. Strong winds off the Tasman Sea create an transform the snowpack into an inconsistent and patchy surface. In any one descent, skiers are likely to encounter n茅v茅 ice, refrozen surfaces, and loose, dry powder. “You need to be extremely calculated from turn to turn, constantly anticipating the conditions ahead of you鈥攁nd whether or not you can surmount them with your edges,” Lusti said. ” You’re basically just clinging for your life at every turn.” That intimate knowledge of the snowpack proved paramount to the safety of the descent.

But equally important was the trust that the two built in the process. Lusti was holding the weight of the loss, but Pierrel helped her focus and be present in the mountains. “Having a partner like Gee who trusted what we were doing and who had a complete focus in the vision we were trying to accomplish allowed me to feel confident and push away my distractions,” Lusti said. Reflecting on Hunter’s Moon in particular, Lusti said she was grateful to have such a brilliant partner who pushed her forward when she needed it and was willing to be pushed by her in return.

Pierrel told 国产吃瓜黑料 that he felt lucky to be accompanying Lusti on the peak.听“I’ve been skiing with the best athletes in Chamonix, and Christina was so impressive,” Pierrel said. He described her making turns on tiny ribbons of ice while he was using his ice axe to help him slide down.

To push the envelope of what’s possible in ski mountaineering, the stars have to align. Skiers听need the right snow, the right partner, the right motivation, and even the right luck. “On that day we went, under the full moon, we had this incredible night sky,” Lusti said. “That’s when hard times’ silver linings appear. We were able to find such an incredible flow within our partnership and put down lines that were really special for the people in our community.” Under the full moon, the southern lights, and a sky full of stars, Lusti and Pierrel were in exactly the right place to make skiing history.

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Billowing smoke and falling ash blotted out the sun in Wrightwood, California on Tuesday, September 10. It was so dark that crickets began chirping in the early afternoon and drivers had to flick on their headlights. What had started as a small brush fire in the Angeles National Forest three days beforehand, the Bridge Fire exploded鈥攂y Wednesday, September 11, it would consume 47,904 acres.

The blaze crept up the hills of Wrightwood and began burning grassy hillsides within the beloved Mountain High ski area, a local resort famous for its easily accessible after-work night skiing for Los Angelinos. Luckily for Mountain High, the resort鈥檚 tenacious snow cannon operators jumped into action and began spraying trees and buildings with water. According to an update on Wednesday afternoon, the employees and firefighters prevented the loss of any resort buildings.

BRIDGE FIRE UPDATE
Fire raced through the area yesterday but GREAT NEWS! All the main lifts & buildings survived with little to no damage. THANK YOU to the fire fighters & employees for their hard work! Our hearts go out to the Wrightwood community, WE ARE WITH YOU.

鈥� Mountain High (@mthigh)

鈥淲hen the fire got close, they fired up all the guns and were able to get the trees wet and keep the fire off the buildings,鈥� Dennis Nadalin, who runs video production for Mountain High, told me.

Mountain High has invested millions of dollars in snowmaking equipment, Nadalin said, and its new taller towers were instrumental in protecting the resort鈥檚 buildings.

鈥淥ur snowmaking crew is top-notch, probably one of the best in the world,鈥� Nadalin said.听 鈥淭hey have been making snow up here since the sixties.鈥�

Videos posted on X on Tuesday night showed flames billowing near the ski area’s chairlifts and structures.

This is some of the most intense fire video I鈥檝e ever seen. A California ski resort burned to the ground on a livestream. resort in Wrightwood, CA has been consumed by the .

鈥� Gage Goulding – KPRC 2 (@GageGoulding)

Approximately out of the Wrightwood area on Tuesday after the fire destroyed 40 homes, according to ABC. Nadalin said he had to relocate several times due to approaching flames. He was evacuated from his home in Highland after a different fire, called the Line Fire, ignited. He relocated to Wrightwood, but then he had to move back to Highland due to encroaching flames from the Bridge Fire.

The entire city of Wrightwood, California, is under an evacuation order as webcam footage from Mountain High Ski Resort shows the burning through the resort.

Multiple fast-moving wildfires are beginning to impact communities across Southern California.

鈥� Colin McCarthy (@US_Stormwatch)

Nadalin told me he was relieved to learn that Mountain High鈥檚 structures were saved鈥攊t鈥檚 a place he鈥檚 skied since the early seventies. 鈥淭he fact that the ski area exists in a place where you could actually see Los Angeles, Catalina Island, and the High Sierra all at once is really pretty incredible,鈥� Nadalin told me.

Located two hours north of Los Angeles, the resort is something of a melting pot. Its night skiing draws a commuter crowd that can ski and ride after work. Its mix of gentle terrain and steep slopes draws skiers and snowboarders of diverse abilities. And it鈥檚 a great place to learn. When I lived in Oceanside, California, I would ski at Mountain High after work, and I loved to see the mountain’s diverse clientele: beginners getting on snow for the first time, semi-professional park riders hitting rails and jumps, and seemingly everyone in-between. I even wrote a feature on the Southern California ski scene for .

Nadalin credits the mountain鈥檚 quick response to firefighting to its innovative infrastructure. 鈥淢ountain High has always been an early adopter kind of place,鈥� he said. 鈥淕rowing up in Wrightwood and having a season pass since the early seventies, I’ve seen a lot of changes, a lot of improvements. Over the years, the snowmaking system has evolved into these big pipes and these big fan guns that are permanently mounted on the hill, where all they have to do is just turn a switch to get them going. That’s one of the reasons that the resort got saved鈥攖he snowmaking system is so good and so thorough.鈥�

The mountain operations employees will soon begin running safety checks to assess any damage to individual lifts, but it seems that a majority of its infrastructure was left unharmed. The Bridge Fire is currently zero percent contained.

These conflagrations sparked after an immense heat wave brought record-breaking 110-degree temperatures to the Los Angeles Basin. High winds and dry vegetation sat waiting for a spark. In the case of the 35,000-acre Line Fire, outside of Big Bear, California, an arsonist provided the ignition source. San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department arrested 34-year-old Norco man Justin Wayne Halstenberg on Tuesday on suspicion of arson.

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Americans can hardly agree on anything to do with politics. But in Florida, a plan that threatens multiple state parks is proving to be an exception to that rule. Recently, the office of Republican governor Ron DeSantis unveiled a proposal to develop nine popular Florida parks into golf courses, pickleball courts, and luxury hotels. The plan has brought together people of all parties鈥擱epublicans and Democrats, alike, all hate it.

鈥淭hey are literally paving paradise,鈥� Heather Meade, a St. Augustine resident, said to . 鈥淪tate Parks are for the people of Florida. They are affordable and family friendly. There are plenty of hotels, condos, and golf courses in our area and no need to convert the parks.鈥�

The plan, which the governor鈥檚 office released on August 20听as part of their Great Outdoors Initiative, details the development of pickleball courts, disc golf courses, a 350-room lodge, a 鈥済lamping area鈥�, and golf courses. It was met with fury from Floridians of all stripes on social media. Then, Floridians came together to protest the plan on August 27 at Jonathan Dickinson State Park.

In the days after the Great Outdoor Initiative document was published, more than 47,000 people joined a Facebook group called Protect Jonathan Dickinson State Park. The group organized a protest on Tuesday, August 27 at the park, during which Democratic state representative Lindsay Cross spoke to protestors in favor of stalling the plan and protecting the park.

According to the , Jonathan Dickinson is home to the largest amount of protected scrub-jay habitat in Southeast Florida.

In the days following its unveiling, the plan also attracted criticism from state lawmakers on both sides of the aisle. Florida鈥檚 Republican senators Marco Rubio and Rick Scott wrote in a letter that the plan鈥檚 call for a one-hour hearing was 鈥渁bsolutely ridiculous.鈥�

鈥淲e believe every voting member of the (Acquisition and Restoration Council) must attend a public comment meeting before taking any action regarding the proposal,鈥� the letter reads. 鈥淎n hour-long meeting on a weekday afternoon when most people are at work will not suffice.鈥�

The governor鈥檚 office has defended the plan as a way to attract more people to the parks with enticing recreation opportunities. 鈥淭eddy Roosevelt believed that public parks were for the benefit and enjoyment of the people, and we agree with him,鈥� press secretary Jeremy Redfern said. 鈥淏ut it鈥檚 high time we made public lands more accessible to the public.鈥�

This golf course would ensure that locals & visitors alike have access to a popular outdoor sport & provide accessibility for all. Here is our proposal.

鈥� Florida DEP News (@FLDEPNews)

Questioned by reporters on August 28, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis said 鈥淚f people don鈥檛 want improvements, then don鈥檛 do it.鈥�

On August 27, officials听scrapped the plan for the Jonathan Dickinson golf courses after Tuskegee Dunes Foundation, one of its main proponents, backed out amid growing pressure from activists. But the remaining eight state park projects remain on the table.

But opponents say they听won鈥檛 stop until the other plans are axed. 鈥淲e must remain vigilant and we will not stop,鈥� Kim Begay, vice president and conservation advocate at the Clearwater Audubon Society, told the .

Hours after the letter was released, the department posted on social media that it would be postponing all the public meetings about the state park plans.

In the last five years, Florida has been known for a politics mired in partisan squabbling. Between attacks on Disney World and book bans in schools, it seems that the state鈥檚 parks are a beacon of unity. After all, our green spaces are a public good on which we can all agree.

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A massive hydrothermal explosion rocked the popular Biscuit Basin area of Yellowstone National Park on Tuesday morning.

According to the National Park Service, the eruption occurred at approximately 10:19 A.M. local time, and it occurred near the Sapphire Pool, just north of Old Faithful. Nobody was hurt, but officials closed the entire area鈥攊ncluding the boardwalks鈥攆or safety reasons.

An unusually large eruption of one of Yellowstone鈥檚 geysers occurred at Biscuit Basin moments ago.

— Colin McCarthy (@US_Stormwatch)

A California woman named Vlada March captured video of the massive blast and uploaded the clip to Facebook. According to , March said she and her family were on a trip to the national park when they noticed steam rising from Sapphire Pool. March began filming the area and caught images of tourists walking near the pool shortly before it exploded, showering the area in water, rocks, and mud.

You can hear March yelling “run run run!” to her loved ones in the clip.

The debris destroyed much of the walkway around Sapphire Pool and Black Diamond Pool, another thermal feature in the area.

“No other monitoring data show changes in the Yellowstone region,” said the NPS in their statement. “Today鈥檚 explosion does not reflect a change in the volcanic system, which remains at normal background levels of activity.”

The explosion comes just days after another eruption in the park鈥攖he Steamboat Geyser recently erupted and showered nearby cars in silica residue. Park staff and the USGS will monitor the area and determine when Biscuit Basin is safe to reopen.

This is an ongoing story, and听国产吃瓜黑料 will update it as more news becomes available.

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One of Canada’s most popular national parks has been evacuated due to encroaching wildfires.

On Monday, July 22, the Canadian government ordered 4,700 residents living in Jasper National Park to flee, as flames from the Semo Complex Fire, roared into the area. Jasper National Park is located in western Alberta, along the province’s border with British Columbia, and the reserve encompasses large swaths of the Canadian Rockies.

According to multiple reports, the order to flee caught residents by surprise鈥攎ost live in the town of Jasper, which is located inside the park. The blaze cut off a number of escape routes in Alberta, forcing evacuees to flee to the west into neighboring British Columbia.

The order came after multiple conflagrations and thick smoke spread across the region from the mega-fire, which is a union of several smaller blazes that have burned a total of 237,221 acres in Alberta and British Columbia. Currently, Canadian firefighting officials consider the Semo Complex Fire to be “out of control.” There are more than 160 wildfires raging in Alberta as of Monday.

“One wildfire is approximately 12 kilometers (seven-and-a-half miles) south of Jasper on both sides of the river and wind may exacerbate the situation,” Mike Ellis, Alberta’s minister of public safety and emergency services, said during a news conference on July 23.

On Monday, escaping tourists and locals posted messages to social media that had tones of both confusion and frustration.听Escape routes were narrowed to single lanes in places and traffic slowed to a crawl amid the chaos.

鈥淐rawling out of town. It鈥檚 been smoky all day ash started appearing 9p,鈥� Jack Kearney, a videographer from New York, posted on X. 鈥淚n a lodge full of tourists we didn鈥檛 get a heads up from staff. Most of us weren鈥檛 sure what to do.鈥�

Carolyn Campbell, the president of the local Edmonton Community College, wrote on X that after nearly three hours of driving, she’d crossed just four miles due to traffic jams. 鈥淲e heard mobile gas stations are being set up, we鈥檙e ok but we know friends are almost out of gas, and folks are sharing same.鈥澨齭he wrote.

Stephanie Goetz, an Ontario resident, was on vacation in the national park when she awoke to a notification on her phone. “It was absolutely shocking. We didn’t realize how close it was to Jasper,” she told the . “When we were stopped, there was tons of cars behind us. And really realizing how close those cars had been to that fire … There’s a much larger fire south of us. I can’t imagine how that’s going to impact Jasper.”

Alberta residents are no strangers to wildfire, and over the years the province has seen multiple mega-fires rage across its borders. In 2016 a raging fire forced the evacuation of Fort McMurray in Northern Alberta鈥�88,000 people had to flee oncoming flames, the largest evacuation in Alberta’s history. The fire eventually burned more than 2,000 homes and buildings.

In recent years wildfire has had dramatic impacts across Canada.听After smoke from the worst fire season in Canadian history poured into the Eastern United States in 2023, warned that this current year could see even more wildfire activity.

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A sharp buzzing noise in my ear jolted me to attention. I鈥檇 been content, hiking in a catatonic state with skis on my back for miles out of the Mount Whitney basin. But the mosquitos had risen before the sun, and at 4 A.M. on a late-June morning, I was breakfast.

I could have been anywhere that summer morning, but I had chosen to chase yet another day of skiing in the high peaks.

I live for winter, and every year my mood improves in November when the flakes begin to fall. Subsequently, my seasonal depression tends to set in right around mid-June, when the sun angle is high and its rays turn skiable snow into an uncomfortable three-dimensional pump track. A common refrain in the Eastern Sierra where I live is folks come for the winter and stay for the summer. But I鈥檓 four years in and that never quite clicked for me.

My summer weekends are filled with angst and indecision. Once a passionate climber, I now spend much less time on the granite peaks and domes above my home. Infrequency and atrophy have winnowed my desire to ascend steep rock and have replaced my old excitement with fear and doubt. Mountain biking in my town鈥檚 dusty and expensive bike park never quite scratches the itch of playing in the big mountains. Hiking without an objective or a technical element leaves me feeling aimless and empty. Instead, I choose to keep waxing my skis long after most of the snow has been vaporized by the summer sun. I’ll throw them in the back of my car and quest into the highest reaches of the Sierra well into July. I’m starting to think that skiing in the high peaks is all I know鈥攖hat I’ve forgotten how to behave in a society that values summer. I know I’m crazy, but I just can’t stop.

What I crave is the slow plod skyward of a steep bootpack, feeling the secure crunch of crampons sinking into n茅v茅. I need to all but disappear in a massive alpine cirque, dwarfed by walls of granite and ice. Winter鈥檚 sky holds a different blue that ebbs away to a muddled June gray, and I find myself scratching around, desperately seeking a way to get it back.

So, there I found myself, kicking up dust, trying to beat back the summer blues by hauling my skis all the way up to 14,000 feet above sea level to squeeze the last drop out of winter. My fianc茅e Rita and I had poached camping in the Whitney Portal, usurping a spot that someone had reserved and abandoned like scrappy hermit crabs. Our alarm rang at 2 A.M. to a collective sigh of relief鈥攏either of us had slept a wink. Our anticipation got the best of us and we frittered away much-needed shuteye in favor of visualizing the trail and the sunrise.

Fueled by Oreos and a resolute desire to hold onto spring, we packed up our tent, slurped a cup of cold coffee, and somnambulated toward the trailhead. Mount Irvine (13,786 feet) and its brother Mount Mallory (13,851 feet) tower over the town of Lone Pine. Skiing in the cirque between the pair of peaks was a fitting objective, our quixotic search for snow echoed the famous climber鈥檚 鈥淏ecause it is there鈥� aphorism. We chuckled nervously that the cirque that houses the two peaks rarely sees any traffic, and we were skiing there almost exactly 100 years after Irvine and Mallory disappeared on Mount Everest.

A beam of light broke through the oppressive cloud of mosquitoes, and through it I was able to see the sunrise gracing the summit of Lone Pine Peak with alpenglow. It was just enough motivation to shake off the bugs and continue upward.

The inexorable lengthening of days as spring turns to summer spirals my sense of loss. Each day, the fingers of snow climb higher from the basin floor. Their melt mirrors my waning ability to find inspiration, adventure, and fun. Admittedly, this is a character flaw. I can鈥檛 seem to find anything to latch onto in the summer besides skiing, though all my friends have new and different passions. The heat, the mosquitos, the endless oppressive sunshine, all dim my drive to lose myself among my home鈥檚 massive peaks. I鈥檇 benefit greatly from a support group for wayward ski mountaineers.

We arrived at Meysan Lake, which sits 3,000 feet beneath Mount Irvine, around 7:30 A.M., trying to arrive before couloir had time to soften. The lake still had lilypads of ice floating on its surface. Rita and I sat on a granite boulder, sunning ourselves like lizards in the morning sunlight. The morning was cool in the granite basin.

Setting a skin track toward Mount Irvine鈥檚 wide apron, I felt the swelter of the sun overstaying its welcome. Sweat began to stream sunscreen into my eyes. But when I took a moment to clear them, I was able to see the gift of my surroundings. Glorious golden granite soared over lush, grassy meadows. Turquoise lakes nestled among groves of old-growth whitebark pines. And yes, all of these features will be here in two months’ time when the last of the snow melts, but what will be gone is the arresting contrast鈥攕parkling white streaks of snow are what make these drainages so special to me.

Maybe halfway up the couloir, it became clear that it was getting too hot, too fast. Fearing the consequences of a wet avalanche, Rita and I quickly transitioned and clicked into our skis. The sun cups were deep and the skiing was, frankly, bad, but we couldn鈥檛 help but laugh as we glided through the steep golden hallway, spraying slush in our wake.

It was clear then that our ski season was officially over. These errant chutes in the high country can only stay soft for so long. Soon they鈥檒l transition to ice and then, in their evanescent way, be gone altogether. Each weekend I say with some certainty that I鈥檓 done skiing. Winter was good, spring was better, and now I鈥檒l have to make something new out of my summer. But when Friday rolls around, I start peeking at coverage in the high country, looking for strips of snow in the alpine that could provide a little spark of inspiration.

I want to recommit to climbing, force myself back on the sharp end of a rope and figure out how not to be scared again. I’ll take out my bike and learn to corner in deep sand鈥擨 have so much to learn and so far to progress. Next weekend I’ll make it happen.

As we made the slow slog back to the Portal I began to accept that winter鈥檚 final breath may have come and gone a few months ago, and spring was already on life support. Next weekend I’ll figure out how to be a citizen of summer. But this weekend you can find me once more at 14,000 feet tucking my crampons into my pack and staring down a narrow band of rotten snow, preparing, yet again, to drop in.

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