Let it snow

I read that it's actually an urban legend that there are hundreds of words for snow in the Inuit culture. However, after traveling consistently through snow, I wish I had such a broad vocabulary from which to choose to describe the variety of snow over which we walked/kicked/slid/glissaded. When we skipped up to Ashland, OR to resume our hike southbound, we were warned by several locals that there was still plenty of snow on the mountaintops. We had to try it anyway.

We discovered quite a variety of types of snow that was pretty consistent everywhere above 5800 ft (most of our travels in this section took us between 6000 and 7000 ft). Each type had its own personality and pros/cons. There was the hard, icy crust that was great for walking on flat surfaces and steep uphills, there was the icy slush that made kicking steps easy but did not support our weight very well, there was the tricky snow that looked solid but led to postholing, there was the pink snow caused by mysterious bacteria.

Nolan started skiing when he was 3, so he was more than at home running down Mt. Whitney and glissading down mountainsides. I was on the opposite end of the spectrum to start, moving slower than a snail in any snow to avoid slipping. I've never skiied. Never snowboarded. When I ice-skate I cling to the wall. I like sledding hills approved for 4-year-olds. The more time we spent in the snow, however, the more comfortable I got with it. I even got to a point at which I willingly glissaded down several hills. Although our progress was still slowed due to some tricky slopes and lots of additional navigation with our GPS, maps, and compass, we still had an easier time than we would have in the Sierras. We went north to avoid snow, and although we still found plenty of it, I still believe we made a good choice. Reading the following excerpts about the Sierras from the PCT email listserve confirmed that belief in me:

"We just got through Desolation to Miller Creek (1122) and the snow situation is grim. Even for the snow-experienced, the constant kicking of traverse steps, heel-plunging, easing across snow bridges, and the navigation under forest cover is both exhausting and slow. A mile/hour is average."

"One of my friends called last night after reaching Mammoth and said she's never been so scared in her life. She's exhausted, injured and leaving the trail. Her husband will continue. This just in from my PCT friends: Our recommendations for anyone attempting Glenn Pass to Reds Meadows. Mather Pass: Know how to use your ice axe. Only a technical traverse is possible on the left flank. PCT trail on right totally snowed over and impossible. Rivers and streams are overbank. Snow everywhere. Some stream crossings bordering on dangerous, life threatening. Going is very slow. This is not the PCT we signed up for."

"The snow-hiking conditions coupled with the incredible creek-turned-torrent crossings are making for slow progress, tremendous patience, the need for lots more food carried, the essential GPS with current tracks, experienced navigational skills, self-arrest training, and simply knowing when to quit! Only a few will have the time in the season this year to make it all the way to Canada. Flipping won't help either as the snow is up and down the west coast."

"Brenda just shuttled two more PCT hikers. One was a seasoned PCT veteran whose comment was 'I fear for the life of the PCT hikers, we have been on the edge nearly the whole way.'"

At least I'm not alone in my fear. Who knows.....some day I might actually try skiing. However, my summertime hiking trip is not the place I'd like to cultivate that skill.