Rock Creek Canon & Bear Creek Spire

SD is more jazzed than any of us for the trip. He builds a sled and tells his daughter its hers. It's really for the boys' extra sleeping pads and igloo maker -- that's right, an igloo maker. Though designed with good intent, the sled becomes the bane of our existence. It drags us more than we drag it. Irony wins in the end, as we are too tired from pulling the damn thing to build our igloo after all. A crying shame.

On day four, the Sierra surprise storm catches us ill-prepared. Have we a warm igloo to snuggle in, we will not retreat from the 80 mph white-out winds whipping across the frozen lake. Have we an igloo to entertain ourselves, we bag Treasure Peak the next day. Instead, after three nights of snow camping, we (I mean SD and EP) drag the dead weight down Rock Creek Rd. With Superman speed, they arrive at the trailhead a good mile before Nate and me. All of us are ready for a cold beer and a hot tub, which, for record, we find in spades.

SD leaves the shredded sled at the hotel in Mammoth and hopes Shea will forget about it. Underneath, he knows she won't. I hope he prepares an adequate response.

Onward Ho!

SD is not so excited now.

Ski-able Terrain!

Home Base!

"That looks good. The ridge this side of Bear Creek Spire."

Day One. Almost there.

Just around the corner, high above the Owens Valley.

Mt. Gabb

Beneath SD's "Slough" call...

The Cold Before the Storm...

Bear Creek Spire in the Cloud

Cat's Ears and Treasure Peak, those lines that got away...

Retreat!

Bobcats in the Backcountry

It's become a ritual -- our Friday after school sidecountry ski tours. Coop and I have made a healthy habit of it. We leave school shortly after the bell, change at my place, grab a couple pops and head into our backyard. It's just a short drive to the trailhead, after we drop the car at Lunar. We climb to the Peak on the north side. The shadows keep us cool. The sun dips to the west.

We reach the summit and crack a PBR -- our reward. Skins off. Out the ridge. Drop the cornice, snap a few and traverse toward the lake.

The work week washed away by the wet slide.

Lake Tahoe, East Shoe Glass!

PBR Beard Froth...

Down the Hatch!

Into the Blue...

Yonder.