Sorcerer Lodge, 2012
(Written by Jeff)
Frost lines the Gortex front of my shell; the zippers, hood liner, everything. The air leaving my lungs instantly condenses and freezes to anything it touches in the -28°C temperatures. We hope we know our bodies and our limits at these temperatures well enough. We are choosing smaller objectives, keeping us close to the warmth of the Sorcerer Lodge.
Sorcerer Lodge, 2012 from Jeff Campbell on Vimeo.
Ski touring at these temperatures adds a sense of urgency to everything. At changeovers, the cold creeps into any sweat-drenched article of clothing. Getting moving again is a higher priority than refueling and hydrating. After our second day, we stop preparing lunches (everything freezes) and only pack GU. Putting our skins in our coats while skiing is the only way to keep them sticky and ski straps are the only way to force them to stick. The sun peeks out for one afternoon and we feel solar powered. This short weather window allows us views of Mt MacDonald on Rogers Pass and as far away as Banff.
Skier: Jeff Campbell Photo: Kristin Campbell
To be fair, it’s not at all miserable. Temperatures that low preserve blower powder for weeks. Four days after the last storm we’re still treated to face shots for thousands of feet. The terrain out the front door of the lodge provides gladded trees and pillow lines as big or small as we want. The trees shelter the snow from the mild winds and hold blower stashes.
At night we hydrate and dine on the fine meals each team prepares one night out of the week. It’s basically a catered trip. Jenga, banana-grams, dance parties, and sauna sessions all tighten the already close-group of 19 friends.
Photo: Kristin Campbell
We quickly fall into the hut routine. Wake up for the weather. Pack your gear. Breakfast. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Dry your gear. Dinner. Sauna. Relax. Sleep. Then we rinse and repeat.
Photo: Kristin Campbell
One evening, a kicker session provides entertainment until Paul takes a knee to his face. Lacy, our resident E.R. nurse, patches him up with glue and a tampon in each nostril. The second to last day, Ben dislocates his kneecap on another kicker 10 minutes uphill from the lodge. The remoteness of this place suddenly settles in. Dave, a Mt Baker "Troller" organizes an otherwise frantic crew and we rally. Ben reduces his knee by himself then continues to instruct us on how to assemble the antiquated rescue sled. He’s tough as nails. We haul him back within an hour and we shudder to think what the rescue would have involved had that happened downhill of the lodge.
Skier: Colin Ferris Photo: Kristin Campbell
The end of the week comes far too quickly. All the remaining alcohol is promptly consumed the last night. Mere acquaintances have become close friends in only 7 days. More importantly, over the week our minds have been reset; defragmented. Hesitantly, we return to civilization. The “Phantom rings” of our phones just stopped 3 days ago. We purposely wait an extra day to turn them back on, clinging desperately to the last semblance of simplicity in our lives. Kristin and I resolve to not let that sense of simplicity leave us as we return to the busy metropolis of Seattle.
Skier: Colin Ferris Photo: Kristin Campbell
Now, reflecting on the trip, biking to the lab every morning allows me short window pretending I’m plodding up the skinner to the next 1000m of face shots. It’s all just training for the next trip.
Photo: Kristin Campbell
Photo: Kristin Campbell
Photo: Kristin Campbell
Photo: Kristin Campbell
Mt Iconoclast Photo: Kristin Campbell
More photos and info can be found at: Jeff and Kristin Campbell.
Special shout out to Cloudveilfor making this trip possible for us.
Also thanks to Moment Skis, BernUnlimited, and Discrete Headwear
-Jeff