San Joaquin Mountain
29 May 2016
For this 2016 Memorial Day weekend I opted for a mini-ski tour to the Ritter Range. I had fallen in love with this place last summer when some of my old college friends came out for a backpacking trip to Thousand Island Lake. Now less than a year later and after a much better winter I strapped on the skis in a modestly successful return journey to the ancient volcanic paradise. As always my plans included a wildly ambitious variant (ski to Mt Lyell and back) and a more realistic, much more frequently accomplished one (surmount San Joaquin Ridge for a view of the snowy Sierra Nevada). Fun Fact: ‘snowy Sierra Nevada’ is a very funny thing to say because ‘Sierra Nevada’ already means ‘snowy range’.
As with my previous late season ski tour to Matterhorn Peak, this one started with a dedication-testing boot pack. I didn’t encounter ski-able snow until the inlet of Fern Lake, at which time I finally got on the skis. Feeling more confident this go-round I skinned all the way up the fairly steep slopes above Fern Lake. The slopes were steep and the snow slick enough that I definitely had to dig the edges in to keep my hold on the ascent. At one point the skis didn’t quite hold and I slid down on my side a good 20 feet! D’OH! Adjusting my technique slightly, I surmounted the slope and exited the drainage. Upon looking up, I realized a storm had descended over the crest.
Light and wet flurries drifted down in a strangely calming way. The air was very still. I stopped on a rock to slip out of my soaked base layer into something a little more comfortable. Now…on to the descent, the reward for all that hard work! ‘Maybe I can even make it to Thousand Island Lake tonight!’ I reasoned hopefully. However, the ambitious plan was not to be. The snow was so wet from the flurries that my skis wouldn’t budge down the low angle slopes! At first I thought I had forgotten to take the skins off, but nope, that was not the problem. I strapped the skis back onto the pack and mournfully plowed into camp on the other side of the ridge, likely in the vicinity of the PCT. SAD. 🙁
But the whole feeling sorry for myself did not last long at all, as the clouds lifted, and as is so common after late afternoon mountain storms, a dazzling display of light danced upon the mountainsides. I suddenly felt truly blessed, both at the wonderful sight of the gray snow-cloak lifting from the Ritter Range, but also being stupid enough to attempt a ski tour to this place when there wasn’t ANY FREAKIN SNOW anywhere below my camp! The slopes above the Middle Fork of the powerful San Joaquin River were totally melted out! I warmed up with some hot food while sitting on a rock gazing at the truly glorious sight unfolding before my eyes. Tomorrow I would return home, skinning up to San Joaquin Mountain on the way out. I am a dedicated peakbagger after all. 🙂
The following morning I was able to complete some mellow turns off the summit of San Joaquin Mountain, with my huge pack on no less. Perfect practice for this novice would-be ski tourer. As always I played it safe… on the steep slopes above Fern Lake. Instead of dropping in, I packed the skis away and hiked down donning crampons and axe. This small taste of what a ski tour could be will serve as great motivation to improve my downhill skiing skills!
