Every day I head out I am skeptical if I am going to find snow. As I drive around the lake looking up at bare peaks I wonder if I should have grabbed my bike, not my board.  It is not until the very end of the drive, and I crest the mountain pass that I see some resemblance of snow.  Even leaving the parking lot I still have doubts about the mission.  It is not until I clear the tree’s and see the high peaks that I realize that I am not delusional.

The Sierra’ are crazy.  Out of all the mountain ranges I have ridden none have such fluctuating terrain as the Sierra’s.  On a big year 50 ft cliff’s will disappear and steep, featured mountains will turn into a mellow roller.  Right now the mountains are holding a 10 to 25 inch  Sierra insta-base that amazingly keeps us off the rocks.,  The mountains are  much more intense and almost angry. Runs that I would normally take my wife down are turning in to “fall you die” gnar.

The snow is boot top at best and often changing but the chutes seem to be holding the better snow.  Hiking up is some what gripping because of the stiffness of the snow.  Each step requires 3 to 5 kicks and one slip would result in high speed pinballing down the winding chute.  Pretty quickly I enter the no fall zone.  By the top of the chute I was way off the deck on what I would consider a 5.6 level rock climbing route.  If it wasn’t for my Black Diamond shovel handle acting as a make shift axe, I would have turned back long ago.

Being int he “No Fall Zone”  your mind automatically sheds all outside thoughts and emotions.  You enter into a world that time is irrelevant and every ounce of brain power is focused on the simple tasks of kicking steps.  The crux is always turning around and getting your board on.  Once strapped in some of the weight is off my shoulders.  Dropping in I am amazed at the amount of snow I get moving and I have to be careful to not be taken out by my sluff.  Exiting the chute is like going through a portal back to the real world.  It is brighter out there, time is relivant and I have to talk to people again.

I am may tired at the end of a full day of hiking in the mountains but there is a noticable bounce to my step and a lift to my spirit.  Spending a day on the “sharp end”  makes me a better person.  The every day stresses of life are not as stressfull and I carry a contentness around for a few days.  Depending on the trip, or the day this will last awhile but eventually I need to get back out there and replenish my spirit.

Long dry approaches to high north faces to find snow have been the norm this year.

The first chute I rode is in the middle of the photo with the notch in the rock.  The second one is to the right. (Shaped like a banana with a really tight pinch half way down.) Both exit threw the big rock walls in the lower right of the photo.

This is the portal door that takes me into my other world.

With ice under foot making kicking steps futile in spots, Edmunds listens to his gut instinct and decides he has reached his high point.

The snow got much better here and I got to take my first breather.

The best part, strapped and ready for action.

I opted to climb this one from the back after the last boot pack.  This thing just kept rolling away and the crux was way tighter then I thought.  This ended up being one of the gnarliest lines I have ridden in Tahoe and woke memories of billy goating down the Bec De Ross at the Verbier Extremes.

Thank God more snow is on the way. I am over hiking down at the end of the day.

Check back in a few days for some helmet cam footy of the chutes.