In all of Big Cottonwood Canyon proper, there are only 2 peaks that really have stood out to me over the years: Kessler and Raymond. While Little Cottonwood Canyon is full of a series of jagged and daunting peaks on the Cottonwood Ridge Line and along the American Fork Ridge Line that tower over 11,000', these two lone gems of BCC stand out at a 10,403' and 10,241', respectably and respectively. While I have skied Kessler before, I have never done Raymond. It has always been on my list.
Another 2 feet had fallen over the past 2 days in both of the Cottonwoods. Alta's season total was just shy of 500" - and we're just starting March... there is 2 months of good winter storms remaining! This winter has been epic for sure for all skiers. I was itching to enjoy the latest storm series by getting out to so many options in Maybird Gulch. However, I soon learned that Lingo had already made plans to go do Mill A and Mount Raymond with a party of 4. Me joining them would bring the number up to 5, which seemed a bit crowded for the trail. I was about to go do my own thing, when I suddenly remembered the last time Lingo and I went into Mill A a few seasons back. Skiing Raymond Shoulder was so amazing then I called it Magical Mill A. This old video clip came to mind...
It drew me there then, it drew me back there today. I didn't have to think long before I bailed on my Maybird plans and decided to go back to Mill A with our party of 5.
We approached Circle Awl from Butler Fork trailhead. Looking up to the top of that well-worn peak, we saw 8 people either on the summit or close to it. Amazing how popular this easy run has become in the back country sector. We gained the ridge, then looked west to see our first glimpse of Raymond. We dropped into Mill A in our first experience with the new powder. Best of all, we were all alone in that entire drainage. We decided to then take the long approach into the heart of Mill A and Baker Pass specifically. This was pristine country, with no sight or sound of any other skier, unlike the crowds we just left behind in the Butler drainage. We moved past Baker Pass and onto the shoulder of Raymond on the northern end of the Cirque. I am happy to report that, because the day was rated "Considerable" by the Utah Avalanche Center and because we weren't in our characteristic dawn patrol, frenzied rush to get into work, we actually paused. We talked about conditions and observations. And then we dug one of these:
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| Ari and Lingo trying their hand at snow science. |
I'm actually proud we stopped and talked and dug a pit because I personally don't do this nearly enough. A pole plant or two is not analyzing snow conditions as you hike up, after all. I was jealous of Ari's 3' hasty pit, so I even dug my very own. We didn't see any deep facets pull out on our hand/elbow/shoulder tests; just the 18" of storm snow, which we knew we would have to manage anyway - and which is why we had come all this way to enjoy...
Ari and Lingo switched gears to the down mode and quickly enjoyed a lap on Raymond Shoulder.
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| Lingo descending into the Bowl. |
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| Ari and Lingo's brush strokes on a perfect winter wilderness canvas. |
I had been in this situation before a few years ago, when I had to let Mt Raymond's summit slip away because we were short on time (the standard response for dawn patrolers). With plenty of time and plenty of powder, I did not want to let it slip away again. I asked if anyone else wanted to join me, and to my pleasant surprise, Nate and Tim were all in. So we kept the bindings in "up" mode and kept trudging upward along the ridge line toward Raymond.
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| Splitting up the parties (temporarily) for separate targets. |
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| Getting closer. |
I quickly got to know previous strangers who were like-minded in their desire to ski off the summit. Turns out, both Nate and Tim had been eyeing Raymond as well for a long time, and they climbed like they meant it.
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| Tim on the split board, and Nate coming in from sea level. |
We were all shocked at the size of the cornices upon reaching the summit. Tim had one close call with a cornice drop that almost pulled him down with the snow chunk. So we collectively decided to not ski off the summit proper and descent a bit further south in search of a safer entry point. And we were soon rewarded with what Ari affectionately called "The King Line of Raymond."
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| Yes that cornice-on-steroids really is the size of a small car, and yes we steered clear of it as best possible. |
Skiing this line truly made me feel like a King, or as Tim more accurately put it " a kid in a candy store." I imagine a king would not be not this irreverent and boisterous about powder, but who knows...
It was one of the best descents of the entire season for me. Nate and Tim would state the same of their descents I'm sure. Here is what our own "artwork" looked like in Raymond's Cirque when all was said and done.
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| The freedom and joy of first tracks. |
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| The Heart and Soul of Magical Mill A |
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| Clear shot of Raymond's King Line and our trio of tracks, with ominous clouds approaching. |
After basking in that amazing run, we were itching for more. We then worked our way south to the next drainage over, Maxfield Basin. After some steep skinning, we gained the ridge into Maxfield, an intimate and narrow drainage that looked intriguing. It was by now late morning and the south-facing aspects showed it with the snow going from light to creamy to chalky to chunky.
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| Tim taking a quick breather before descending again... |
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| Tim and I making the most of variable snow conditions as the morning wore on... |
Finding ourselves in the bottom of Maxfield, I was shocked by how remote this area suddenly felt. There was no signs of human life here: no summer trail, no campsites and best of all, no ski tracks (up or down). It was a pristine feeling. I was grateful we had made the effort to explore this sub-basin of true wilderness, marked only by rabbit, squirrel, and fox tracks in the untouched powder.
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| The skin train in upper Maxfield with the sentinel pines watching over us... |
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| That tree has seen some action in it's day. |
At the top of Maxfield, we had an important decision to make for our final exit to BCC road. We had 3 options: ski the Rock House Slide Path directly in front of us, ski the ridge to a Maxfield Slide Path, or ski Maxfield Basin back to the Mill A junction. After conferring each other's energy levels, risk appetite, and the maps, we chose Option 1.
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| Lingo checking the data; Ari getting in the zone. |
Entering Rock House Drainage, we found some surprisingly good and stable snow, which we all enjoyed thoroughly. As we descended lower into the drainage, our open skiing became much more exploratory navigating, which was absolutely necessary as the coverage became thinner, the brush became thicker, and our legs became more spent. We conferred the map often to find the Rock House Chute, which is one of the only official ways to ski out of this section of the Wasatch and on to the road, and is a popular spot for siting back country ski tracks by people driving the canyon. We thought it would be cool to be the source of those tracks, just this once...
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| Rock House chute is across the drainage, but Tim stayed positive regardless. |
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| Nate descending from Maxfield into Rock House. |
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| Surprisingly good turns for this elevation. |
Tim made the best of it by shredding up the powder that had turned from chunky to cement-y.
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| Ari wondering how we were going to get out of this messy exit... |
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| ...until he realized he just had to point them down and figure it out as you go. |
All in all, it was a fantastic adventure that had all the right ingredients: perfect snow, great vertical, solitary wilderness, mountain-passionate friends, navigational uncertainty, hot dogs for recovery foods, and some solid physical testing. Magical Mill A delivered once again. I'll be back for more some day again...
