9 April 2008

Back from Greenland and right back into it here in Hakuba, with spring on my side. Although today had a little too much sunshine.

Lloyd my dog and I woke at 3am, cooked a big breakfast and hit the trail at 4am. Our objective: the NE couloir of Shakushi Dake (2812m, the middle peak of the well known ‘three peaks’ above Hakuba.) The couloir has an average fall-line angle of 43 degrees over 700m vertical. The upper half is 45-50 degrees. At the base of the couloir is a permanent snow-field between 35 and 25 degrees giving a very long a long run out. I like all terrain in the backcountry, there is fun in everything.  But this type of line is after my heart, this is what I love, almost 1km vert of 45-50 degrees direct fall line from the summit. You put this line in Chamonix and it would get hit, a lot.

The NE couloir runs from bottom left to top right.

Lloyd and I reached the foot of the couloir (a 10km trip, vert change of 1300m) within 4 hours. Unfortunately the couloir climb was slow. The sun was beating down on us.

In the couloir the recent snowfall was about 30-40cm deep and cold, not isothermal and certainly no corn. It was cold soft snow on the way up, great for this time of year. Unfortunately this was the first day of clear skies and in rather un-Hakuba fashion, the sun was out and in force. Despite the visually (and spiritually) stunning sunrise, I didn’t want such intense solar radiation, it isn’t safe. At the half-way mark small snow lumps where barrelling down the line, a sign of worse things to come. Not long after, the first of the stones started to rifle down the couloir. Like the snow lumps, most were marble sized, some disc shaped and 5cm across. They made the familiar and unwelcome fast thumping buzz of an irregular circle wheeling down the snow. and wizzing past.  It's a great sound under any other circumstances.

I was very pleased to find the couloir in pristine condition: I was certainly the first to climb and ride it this season, and even better, there was no spring avalanche debris at all. A clean soft line. That all changed as one of the feeder chutes to the main line started to rumble on the sunnier climber’s right hand side. First a few snow balls then a fast moving avalanche triggered by the sun warming the rocks above. Pretty standard stuff, but best avoided at all costs. It started in single-point fashion as it appeared from the subsidiary chute and fanned out across half the couloir proper as it ran all the way to the bottom in a wide rumble. Damn! Besides ruining half my available riding terrain, it confirmed what I knew was up anyway and also limited my freedom to move across the couloir. Avalanche over, we continued upwards.

Another view of the peak and surrounding area. The long and obvious snow field is itself a fantastic tour.

We arrived at the choke section leading into the narrow upper couloir to the summit. Still a lot of stone fall activity, but irregular and relatively small projectiles at snow level. One almost hit Lloyd (he’s at snow-to-knee level). All the way up I craned my neck to look and listened for the purring approach of stones and could step out of the way if one should chance to lake my fall-line. Only one came close. But then the anti was upped and grapefruit sized stones started to cannon down the line, all concentrated in the choke. A cannon ball funnel. These big guys where bouncing and thumping at ridiculous speed near head height and I was not at all comfortable, it was dangerous. So 200m from the summit we backtracked. Our alternative was another narrow couloir to the ridge to climbers left of summit (see below). This narrow and steep line was clear of stone fall, which was a pleasant anxiety remedy.

The connon-ball choke marked with an elipse.  Main line in blue, my alternative section in orange.... I'm going to have to go back and get it done.

Lloyd was uncomfortable with the pitch, about 50 degrees. There is little worse than a dog who stands howling at the top of a couloir, refusing to follow you down.  In the past I’ve had to climb part way back up to ‘encourage’ him down. Today he was showing signs of hesitation, so I carried him in my arms for the first steep stretch, an acquired (and difficult) skill. He doesn’t like snowboarding tandem, so the relative safely of running down on his own became more appealing. To encourage him I clipped a carabineer to a sling and threw it down the couloir like a stick. He took off after it, and, to my satisfaction, the sling rolled up around the biner and continued to roll down the line at speed under its own steam. So I took off and soon passed Lloyd, calling out and whistling as I rode. After that my main concern was Lloyd getting caught in a sluff avalanche that I started (and a rock hitting me in the back of the head).

It was a good ride, the previously cold snow had warmed and gone bad a little more than I would have liked and was sluffing quite hard. But all told, a great descent. Lloyd and I set off for the 10km return journey, including a leisurely lunch break, and managed to snowboard to past the Sarakura Hut in an almost clean line/traverse. Once on the uncleared road we needed poles for assisted propulsion along very mushy snow, followed by a few km’s foot hump down a cleared road.

In all we made the return journey in 9 hours from a 4am start. Certainly a day trip, but given the need to avoid spring heat, probably better done as an overnighter with a couloir attempt completed by 8am latest. To be honest, even in colder winter, I’d prefer those distances and heights on an overnighter to a day trip.