Ty Guarino
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High Tide: December in the Tetons

12/30/2016

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     Between ski patrolling, guiding, and living the rest of my life, it is hard for me to find time to squeak out personal turns these days.  luckily I was able to find some time to make the four hour drive south a couple weeks ago, and hit the high tide cycle in the Tetons.  Although conditions remained unstable, myself and a few other trusted partners were able to make it out in the Backcountry for some DEEP powder skiing.  One day in GTNP, and one on the pass...Above is what we found...
     Although we were able to find safe skiing, myself and company also remotely triggered a steep rollover on Mt. Albright, reminding us to keep ourselves in check.  Recent accidents and events in the backcountry have affected my headspace and reminded me that snow slides, regardless or how much we study conditions or think we know what is happening in the snowpack.  Stay safe my friends, and know that the rewards are not always as easy as they can sometimes seem!
​-Ty
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Chamonix couloir, 4/9/16

4/10/2016

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Alfani ambassador Doug Burns hop turns down the Cham Couloir. Beartooths 2016.
          I would have never guessed it, but this year early April might have been too late for the East rosebud roadside attraction: Chamonix Couloir. Dry trail, talus, deadfall, and 5.4 rock climbing were all necessary components of actually accessing the snow in the Chamonix.  Low snow is a general expectation for this popular couloir skiing destination, but if I knew how much of an effort it was really going to be, we probably would have committed to traveling elsewhere. 
           Like many great adventures, inspiration for the Cham struck late the night before our anticipated alpine start.  My very close friend Doug Burns was recently accepted to medical school, so we had to have one last ski trip together before Doug started a new four year chapter of his life on the ice coast.   Our other close friend AJ Dayvie joined us and brought along Suisho, his tricked out Delica four wheel drive van.  Leaving Bozeman just after ten pm, we arrived at the East Rosebud Canyon trail head around 12:30 am. 
          
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Suisho in all of her glory
          It was difficult for us to decide on a start time because we were uncertain about what to expect.  We were not seeing a consistent melt freeze cycle, and it had recently been too warm to still expect cold snow.  We decided on 6 am hoping that noon wouldn't be too late if wet slides were going to be an issue.  Although Cham is a West facing line, there is a healthy amount of South Facing water ice that hangs above the ski route and has the potential to tumble into the couloir given enough solar gain. 
             After two hours of dry trail, wobbly talus walking, and precarious deadfall navigation, we made it to the entrance of the couloir.   Predominately still traveling on talus at this point, we transitioned to ski boots before the real climbing started, and stashed our approach shoes and unused skins. Although we knew where we needed to be to start booting up the couloir, we had to decide which route we wanted to take to bypass some open waterfalls and steep rock steps.  We meandered our way through the rocky maze and got to continuous snow in about 40 minutes.  
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Doug making rock climbing in ski boots look like it's fun
          Once we reached the continuous ribbon of couloir, all we had left was the endless calf burn that seemed to wind on and on.  The Chamonix packs close to 3,500' of vert, which is a lot if you aren't used to climbing and skiing things that big. Near the bottom of the couloir proper, we witnessed evidence of recent wet slides.  Traveling through to boot top wet snow was making us a bit nervous about stability, but we continued hoping that the combination of aspect, elevation, and a thin layer of clouds would play to our advantage. The higher we climbed, the firmer the condictions got.  We even found pockets of cold chalk and powder snow.   
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AJ checking out some evidence of wet slides
          Having passed the bottom ice cruxes, we decided to stash our crampons near the bottom hoping we could climb faster without their weight in our packs.  Of course in the end, we regretted our decision because the very top of the couloir was sporting an ice bulge that guarded to entrance to the East rosebud plateau. we could have easily climbed past it with our ice axes, but descending it would have been a different story. After some lunch, waiting for the sun to heat up the snow, and discussion about how to descend past a rock crux at the top, we ended up skiing around 1pm.  Although it was certainitly not hero skiing, we found fun turns all the way down the couloir.    
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AJ Dayvie skis the meat of the Chamonix couloir.
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Author Ty Guarino skis through the rocky top section of the Cham.
          Because our approach route was so heinous, we took a different route out of the couloir. Our new route turned out to be questionably better and involved down climbing very slushy water ice and the most savage of all combat skiing.  Having never climbed ice before, AJ popped his cherry by doing it ropeless, with only one tool, in telemark boots, and going down instead of up.  Doug and I thought it was an appropriate introduction to such a silly sport...
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          Getting back to the trailhead and sitting in the parking lot was a very welcomed load off the feet.  This was my second descent of the route, the first of which in the spring time.  I would say after this experience, with the gnarly approach and low snow levels, I will definitely take my time before trying it again.  Regardless, It was a great outing with incredible company.  Thanks Doug and AJ for rallying late night to make this trip one to remember!
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The Grand Addiction

3/17/2016

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Ty Guarino celebrates the beauty of the Grand Teton From the summit of Teewinot. 2010, Justin Marlen.
            There are no words to say, similes to use, or comparisons to make.  Without venturing further and without overcomplicating my emotional attachment, I would use the word perfection to describe the Grand Teton.  Her striking curves, her dark humor, and her ever-changing bi-polar hospitality has inspired me more than anything else.  I court her, I fear her, and I have to say that I have truly learned from her.  I love her. 
            Admittedly, I often feel jaded or even bitter when I hear people talk about the ‘magic’ of the mountains. I cringe and shudder as the same cliché phrases are passed around in endless circles of banter amongst groups of skiers and mountaineers. I squirm and wriggle, shift my eyes, and turn my body as if to protect myself from an unwelcomed assault. I am not sure what it is that makes me feel uncomfortable, but in the end, I am and forever will be as guilty as everyone else. 
            What follows is a love story, 6-9 million years in the making.  So if you are like me, and dry heave every time you hear someone spraying about how important ‘Mountains’ are in their life, hang up now and forever dis-own me as your friend. My Grand addiction is sickly, obsessive, and all encompassing. 
            In the Fall of 2008, my freshman year at Montana State University, I purchased Thomas Turiano’s masterpiece coffee table book: the Peaks of Greater Yellowstone.  Although my mind was blown with each beautiful black and white photo depicting the mountains of the Greater Yellowstone ecosystem, I couldn’t help but gawk at the Grand.  Each aspect, each rock feature, each discontinuous ribbon of snow instantly drew me closer. I couldn’t help but wonder “how-the-fuck is that chunk of rock skiable?”
            Of course I was attending MSU because of it’s close proximity to Bridger Bowl, and like every other MSU freshman, I wanted to test my skills as a skier.  At the time, I would say, I wrote the Grand off as a peak well beyond my feasible level of attainment.  In the end, I didn’t believe that I had the strength or know-how to plan a trip to such an exotic mountain range and not kill myself. 
            But as time progressed, it seemed that that Grand was a mountain that was continuously re-entering my life.  In a twisted and wild chain of events involving a girl, a broken heart, and the need for emotional redemption, I was able to actually experience the Tetons in May of 2010.  After a week of bad weather and mediocre skiing, my partner and I were able to ski the Middle Teton’s SW couloir in rare all-time conditions.  Standing on the summit of the Middle, was at the time, the most profound experience in my life.  Skiing off the summit was pure ecstasy. From then on out, I was hooked, infatuated, and helplessly addicted to chasing ski descents in the Tetons. 
 
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Ty Guarino and Ned Gall on the sumit of the Middle Teton 2010
            Somewhere along the line, I was introduced to a young splitboarder who shared a similar psych for the Tetons as I, and was probably 10x savvier.  I was fortunate enough to study and experience the ‘magic’ of the Tetons under his supervision. I was even lucky enough to be on one of his first and notoriously wild ski expeditions to Alaska. 
            Aaron showed me how to be a ski mountaineer in the Tetons, and further nurtured my psych for experiencing the far-fetched and extraordinary. Aaron not only knew the complete history of ski descents in the Tetons,  but additionally had an incredible bead on snow and avalanche conditions. It became difficult not to mindlessly follow Aaron into any terrain he brought me to.  Eventually, after many, many trips into Garnet Canyon, I realized I had been staring too long at the Ford Couloir. I decided it was time to paint my own hop turns down the SE face of the Grand, without my Jedi master at my side.  
 
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Aaron Diamond on Buck mountain 2015
            Because of inexperience, because of the wonky snow conditions, because of  uncertainty, because of Jeremy Jones’ film helicopter rotor-washing the shit out of us, my partners and I bailed on our attempt of the Grand at the bottom of the Ford Couloir.  We could have blamed it on a lot of things, but I like the think it was because Jeremy’s movie making campaign for ‘Higher’ was able to buy out the ethics of GTNP's no helicopter policy, which therefore afforded his film crew the right to fly too close to us, which therefore almost sent us tumbling down the Becky route.  But in all reality, we were not experienced enough to know what to do, so we turned around :)
            The following spring, on the verge of another big expedition to Alaska, I took another stab at “courting the lady.” Our tactics changed and we felt supremely optimistic about our chances for success.  Waking up from a state of sleepless anxiety, my partner and I made our way up the teepee glacier with fresh legs and a bootpack already in place.  Our progress was confident, our climbing felt strong, and our heads were clear.  Near the top of the Chevy couloir, weather moved in, and the spindrift quickly became unbearable. 
            With the same partner as my first attempt, at the same place on the mountain, we tucked our tails between our legs and rappelled our way out of the storm.  After feeling so confident in our chances of success, I drove back to Bozeman feeling like I had almost drowned in a class V rapid.  I realized how bad I had wanted the Grand on my resume, and I realized that to move on with my life, I needed to ski that frightful son of a bitch.       
 
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Ty Guarino and Adam Fisher turning around in the bottom of the Ford Couloir. 2014
            I shortly thereafter left for Alaska and spent the next four weeks in the St Elias range thinking about the Grand.  I laid in my tent at night in the middle of a ski mountaineer’s virgin paradise, visualizing the silly and stubborn mountain in Northwest Wyoming.  Thousands and thousands of miles away, she still had me within her grasp and refused to let go.
            When I returned to Bozeman in early May of 2014, I only had one thing on my mind.  I contacted all of my ski partners, tried to recruit everyone I knew to come try the Ford/Stettner with me again.  But everyone had plans or was uninterested in belaying me up WI3 in my duckbill telemark boots. But really, before I even tried to get anyone to come back to the Tetons with me, I knew that I was going to probably end up driving south partnerless.
            Before I realized what was really happening, I found myself sitting cross-legged on the tailgate of my Honda element watching the last of the evening light disappear behind the cathedral peaks of the Tetons. I watched as the clouds danced in and out of the summits, and how the shadows played with their dark and beautiful features.  What I remembered most vividly about my first trip to the Tetons was this exact activity; as my ski partner napped in dirt of the shadow mountain campground, I quietly sat next to him with the same straight-back posture and subtle smirk across my face, contemplating my motivations.
            Although I knew that I was going to try to ski the Grand one more time regardless of the presence of a partner, actually attempting it solo truly scared me.  Although I felt like I had the route dialed, I knew the ins and outs of each pitch, and was able to visualize every piece of sun-faded webbing precariously fixed above the common rappel stations, I was still curious if I could actually commit to something that serious. regardless, I felt that I was ready enough, and if I wasn’t, I would simply turn around. 
            And so it came to be, that I once again I shook the sleepless state of anxiety from my head and drove to the Taggart lake trailhead at 11:45pm.  Although I felt confident in my skills as a ski mountaineer, what I wasn’t feeling confident about was the big orange sign as the trailhead asking me if I was “bear aware”.  I guess I had overlooked the prospect of grizzlies and traveled solo to the Tetons sans bearspray. 
            Being incredibly scared of bears, and wild animals in general, I spent the first  three hours of my climb up to Garnet canyon yelling and hollering my vocal chords hoarse.  I was dead set on letting my presence be known to every living thing within a ten-mile radius.  When I emerged in the meadows below the Middle Teton, I felt that I had probably made myself more tired from yelling than I did from skinning. Regardless, I continued up towards the Teepee glacier and transitioned to crampons. 
            I stashed some gear at the Teepee col, traversed past the death slope, and dropped into the dark hallway of the Stettner couloir.  My personal crux was not the skiing, but the climbing.  Being the half-assed alpinist that I am, climbing Water Ice grade 3, ropeless, in telemark boots, with skis on my back, was by for the most intimidating proposition of my third Grand attempt.  In previous outings, I was able to climb the Chevy couloir on belay with the help of my partners. But now, the weight of my endeavor was manifesting itself in poor ice climbing technique and it was causing me to grip my ice tools too tightly. 
            At the crux move, it didn’t take me very long to panic and place an awkwardly high ice screw to calm my anxious head space. I immeadiatly girth-hitched my belay loop with a nylon runner and clipped the other end to the screw's metal hanger.  I proceeded through the difficult ice with a new sense of confidence, and then back-cleaned my protection from a stance on top of the crux.  Regardless of my poor technique, I continued through the Chevy couloir, and stashed my ropes at the bottom of the Ford Couloir.
            In a whirlwind of breathless singing, I high-daggered my way to the summit of the Grand Teton.  I staggered and wobbled, stumbled and fumbled my way to the USGS summit marker, and clumsily sat down on top of the summit.  My head was spinning and my heart was pounding.  This is real, I thought to myself.  “This is real.”
 
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Ty Guarino Approaching the Summit of the Grand Teton. May 2014
Although I somewhat hate to admit it, I refer to my successful ski of the Grand as a borderline ‘spiritual experience.’  In all reality, skiing the Grand Teton solo is pretty small potatoes in the realm of extreme ski mountaineering. But to me, the ‘magic’ of the mountains was and is, extraordinarily real.  In some way, I think I knew that I was eventually going to have to try it without a partner.  For someone like me, who is largely conservative in my forays as a ski mountaineer, I reflect on this experience with wonder.  I have learned that skiing solo is an important piece of who I am, and I believe that it is and integral part of me realizing my true potential. 
            This past winter, I put in another unsuccessful attempt on the Grand leaving my record 1 for 4.  I think though, no matter how many times I fail or succeed on that mountain, I will always feel the need to visit the dark and twisted lady of the Tetons. 
 
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Aaron Diamond at a bivy below the Teepee Glacier. 2016, Ty Guarino.
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The granite state

5/7/2015

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Slogfest-Wind River Range

4/23/2015

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    I have to say that April might be my favorite month to go skiing: deep stability issues have usually subsided, wet spring storms bring deep powder skiing, the sun stays out until almost 8pm, and corn skiing while wearing your knee pads on the outside of your jeans.  Although I love the laid back atmosphere of lazy spring skiing, I wanted to get back into the mountains to check off some objectives before the real end of the season. 
    After discussing some options with some different folks, both Aaron Diamond and myself became psyched on the idea of venturing out into Titcomb Basin in the Wind River Range. My only previous experience with the Winds has been climbing in the Cirque of the Towers.  After that trip, I would still say that the Cirque is one of the most impressive and beautiful places that I have ever been.  Needless to say, I was very excited to get back inside the Wind River's signature granite walls for some couloir skiing. 
   

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    Our trip started with a snowy access road, and a few rednecks that abandoned their stuck trucks that blocked our passage to the trailhead.  After a wild rodeo in my Honda Element and 1+ hour of digging with avy shovels, we parked three miles from the trailhead and departed for Titcomb basin two hours later than we had hoped.     
    By now the sun had heated up the snow to create wet corn, which soaked our skins and made the dry snow in the shade stick and refreeze to our skis.  We were left with a balled up mess 8 inches deep on each ski, which was horribly frustrating.  It did not matter how much glob-stopper we applied, we were slowed to a crawl.  I was also pulling a sled, which made my situation even more frustrating.  

During the first six miles of our 13 mile approach, we also realized how difficult the navigation was.  We were traveling in and out of the trees with almost no landmarks or recognizable peaks in the distance.  The trail system was obviously under snow, so we were left with a scrappy combination of following a very faint skin track, pulling UTMs off a GPS, and referencing a mostly disintegrated USGS 7.5 minute quad. 
    Our plan was to make it all the way  to Titcomb on the first day, but that was soon becoming unrealistic with our rising level of frustrations.  we found a camp spot and were relieved to take our skis off and cook some dinner.  
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The following morning, we got our bearings and were able to see where we needed to set up our basecamp near Titcomb.  We left camp before the sun heated up the snow and made our way to camp in a reasonable amount of time.  Our navigation on the second day was much easier than the first, and our spirits were renewed.  We dug out a spot for our mid-type shelter and set up a kitchen under a large boulder.  after some down time hanging around camp, we cooked dinner and celebrated Aaron's 24th birthday.
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After dinner and some passing of Jose C, the weather started to dimish.  Becasue we were not expecting any weather, we packed rather light and were somewhat unprepared for what was blowing in.  Additionally, I became to realize I need to spend some money to update my expedition gear.  within a matter of two hours, the zipper on my mid became mostly non-functional, both my down booties blew out at the sole, the zippers on my puffy jacket only worked about half of the time, and the pull cord on my backpack snow collar ripped through it's rivet and was creating a larger tear. 
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My crappy attempt to eliminate snow entering my bootie through the sole.

I spent the night getting hammered with snow through the open zipper and trying to keep my wet feet warm with a hot water bottle.  We got up the next day to on-and-off white out conditions and wet sleeping bags. Both Aaron and I were feeling a bit burnt out on expedition travel and dealing with gear malfunctions. Additionally, the storm conditions were presenting stability concerns.  After discussing our options, both or us were unanimously in the "lets get the fuck out of here" mind set.   
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taking a break while on our retreat home

We made it back to Jackson around 7pm and celebrated our cross-country skinning adventure over beers and burgers!
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April in the Northern Bridgers

4/13/2015

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4/8/15: Myself and Tele-Matt Shortland fired up Matt's 600 and sledded the Fairly lake road in hopes of finding some spring pow.
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Matt Shortland nearing the summit of Sacajawea in the northern Bridgers. 
   
    After reaching the summit of Sacajawea, the two of us meandered south towards Nuya Nuki and the ski lines named Lazer, Tazer and Phazer.  I really haven't done a significant amount of skiing in the North Bridgers, so I was eager to go poke around and see how the 'Zers looked.  I chopped a cornice on I think Phazer(?).  The snow appeared well glued to the steep entrance so I hopped in and skied the double fall line shot down into the lower part "The Great One.' 
From the bottom of airplane bowl, I watched Matt ski the Lazer; a steep and very really narrow couloir that drops north of the skier's right side of the Great One.
    With the snow skiing really well, we skinned back to the summit of Nuya Nuki for seconds and got ourselves some hero skiing directly off the summit.     
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On our way back to where the sled was parked, we got one more slice of paradise...
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Thanks for a great day Matt and putting up with me riding on your sled.  This has solidified to me that I really do need my own sled to ski up north more often!
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La Plata North Face

4/6/2015

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After I sort-of healed up from being sick, I was able to squeak out a 14er before I left Colorado to head back north to Montana.  I teamed up with local badass and former COBS employee Rohan Roy.  After working together last spring, we have been talking about trying to ski together ever since.  We were both psyched on the idea of La Plata's steep North Face so we went to check it out.
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Rohan Roy skinning towards La Plata's north ridge
    After getting the top, we discussed our descent options and settled for a steep technical line that we were "pretty sure" skied through.  After about 200 vertical feet of steep chalk skiing, we realized we were headed into a definitive close-out. 
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    Although we brought a rope with us, we opted to hike back up and out to try to find a more pure line of descent. After little talk we settled for a different line that skied directly off the summit.  
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Rohan skiing the upper section of La Plata's North Face.
    Although the snow was a little grabby, we took advantage of the blue-bird weather and milked the goodies all the way out.
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Although I developed bronchitis a few days later from pushing it too hard to early, I would say the day was well worth it.  Thanks Rohan for a great day out skiing!
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Outward Bound: Missing Out?

4/6/2015

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    After a busy (and warm) start to March, I headed down south to Leadvegas Colorado to work one of Outward Bound's 8 day Backcountry ski/snowboard courses. Although the December versions of this course are notoriously cold and dark, the March version is a completely different story.  Longer days and a spring snowpack lend themselves to easier backcountry living and hero powder skiing.  I was really excited for this course because of the promising weather pattern and the all-star staff I would be working with.
    Unfortunately the sickness that I had been fighting since the beginning of the month caught up to me and I was taken hostage of a full-blown fever.   Sadly I had to sit out of the field for the whole expedition section. I did get to skin in to visit my crew one day and got to see what I had been missing out on...        
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Although I didn't have it in me to join them for a real lap, I was so happy to see their smiling faces and absorb some of their stoke.  Huge shout out goes to Chris Noah (seen above in yellow) for solo instructing his third winter course of the season.  Also big shout out to Katlynne Schaumberg for stepping up to fill in as an instructor on her first ski/ride course.  
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Quarter Century

2/27/2015

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After a long history of bad birthdays, my 25th was the game changer.  On Monday Feb 23, Joel Forrest and I set out in search of a new powder skiing zone.  Out of seemingly nowhere, we stumbled upon a new-to-us area... 
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Tigger-pup displaying the potential of our beautiful bluebird day
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Joel Forrest gettin' the goodies!
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Trying my absolute best to hold onto my youth.

Three hours later we are listening to some bluegrass, drinking some beer, and reminiscing about the good ol' days! Thanks Joel for making my 25th the best so far!
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Three, Seven, Five

2/15/2015

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Three Days, Seven classic Teton ski descents, and five different ski partners.  After weeks and weeks of trying to set up some skiing in Jackson with SLC local and Voile team manager Noah Howell, everything finally came together for three long and incredible days of skiing.
2/12/15
UNO - Day one consisted of the classic link-up between the V-notch and the Apocalypse couloirs.  Both shots held perfect snow conditions and were a pleasure to ski.  We skied the V-notch bottom up and dropped in just below the pinch.  Three rappels took us into the Apocalypse where the ice fall was in condition to ski-through.  
2/13/15
DOS - After hours of hemming and hawing, poking and prodding, our team of four settled on the Southern aspect of the Middle Teton: The Ellingwood and Chouinard couloirs.  We skied the Ellingwood first in creamy powder-corn, then booted back up the Chouinard for some proper corn skiing.  With Adam Fabricant cracking the whip, our team of four dragged ourselves up to the Teepee glacier and finished the day on the dike snowfield.  Thousands of vertical feet of powder skiing brought up back to the car by just 3pm!
2/14/15
TRES - Tired, sore and sunburnt, Myself Noah and Matt (?) left taggart lake TH close to 8am with the Middle Teton Glacier route in mind.  Maybe it was the weather forecast, but for a Saturday, I was surprised to see so few people out in Garnet Canyon.  
with Stiff winds hitting us from the west, we booted up the thin SW couloir in neve and rime ice conditions. We were fortunate to top out with clearing skies and calming winds. After some route reconnaissance we opted to rappel into the start of the Middle Teton Glacier instead of skiing the East Face... it wouldn't have gone clean without a 6' air onto a steep snow flute in the face of some grim consequences.
We ended our day and the high pressure system with a descent of the Red Sentinel.  Super fun three days out with some new really awesome ski Partners. Thanks Aaron and roommates for hosting me once again! 
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Noah Howell rappelling into the Glacier Route on Middle Teton. Photo: Ty Guarino
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