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Backcountry Skiing blogs, videos, photos, and a whole lotta stoke.

Olas and Nieve | Sierra Mountains and Humboldt County Surf, CA United States | 04/30/09, by Dark Star

Well it's that time of year again. It's almost May, the days are longer, the sun is hotter, and spring has been in full effect for over a month. As more solar radiation and less cold storms pulse across the landscape, the snow we all love to slide on is becoming a scarce resource. For some us, the spring is not solely a chance to get a few more turns in; it allows us to combine other passions with our alpine pursuits.

While the mountain bike it still in the shed, and the climbing shoes lie silent in a tub of gear waiting for even warmer weather, my wetsuit and surfboards are always ready to go. Springtime or not, as a lover of waves I try to maintain my connection even in the depths of a pow-filled winter. Most surfers ride waves year-round. It's not as seasonal of a sport as skiing. Sure there are better swells depending on the time of year, but if you're resourceful and live within the vicinity of the coast, surfing is definitely a year-round activity.� That's part of the pull for living in Tahoe. We usually get a lot of nieve in the winter, and you can drive to the olas in less than 4 hours. Still, it's hard. The motivation to surf once there's snow dies for most mountain junkies. Add this to super cold water from Santa Cruz to Humboldt County, and the motivation lessens even more. While I've managed to squeak out at least a session in every month for the past few years, it's spring when the window opens to bring'em both together. �

Last week I was treated to this great phenomenon, the all-time epic day where the olas and nieve are experienced in the same day. My partner Jillian had some unfinished business to attend to in Humboldt County. A few years back, we traded the full-on lifestyle of ski bums in order to attend graduate school. While the main justification for our trip was facilitated through Jillian's scheduled thesis defense, I knew we had a chance to link up a huge day on the way, if conditions were just right. Luckily they were.

After a long drive from Tahoe, deep into Big Foot Country, we returned to what has become one of our favorite zones over the past few years living in the city. You can't find any beta about this area unless you dig really deep. There's no guide book to tell you about ski descents and the locals are just as hard to track down for logistics.

We only had one day. With the goal to ski then surf, and knowing we were still a few hours from the ocean, I hoped that the line we wanted was in and we could ski it and be on the road by 2pm. I've come to name this line the Salmon Couloir, for obvious reasons if you know where I'm talking about (which you probably don't).

A few years back after confirming with other locals that no had ever skied it (or at least knew of anyone that ever skied it) a local rider and I tried twice, in consecutive years, and got sandbagged both times.� Then, one fine spring day I went back solo, and skied the line in silky smooth corn conditions.

As the line came into view on this day, it looked like we'd be good. But the several inches of new snow that had fallen the week prior to our visit had slid in the bottom half of the couloir leaving an edgeable but firm surface. Since I had my whippet and hard boots I was able to get up there safely, while unfortunately Jillian was forced to hang back with the dogs. We didn't bring crampons and Jill's snowboard boots without any protection just seemed a brainless way to start the day.� And although the dog's claws grow faster than a kid off of ritalin, they didn't have a chance.

For those with whippets, however (aka me) the couloir skied remarkably well.� In April, I can easily convince myself that sticky powder is the best snow of the year.� Jill also got a few good turns on the way out, which made me feel slightly less guilty about ditching her with the dogs.

Then, in a matter of hours we were twisting through deep, gorgeous valley roads that lead to the Humboldt County coast. Arriving at Houda Point, my favorite surf spot, the clouds were thick, the waves were sloppy, and the water looked cold. It was even misting a bit as we found ourselves struggling to find the motivation to paddle out. That is, until we let our dogs, Olas and Nieve, out of the car. Like they hadn't skipped a day they were off down the trail to the sand, to chase each other at mock speeds just as they'd done hundreds of times before when we lived here. Olas and Nieve had linked up the mission-going from the snow to the waves that afternoon.
Jill and I laughed at each other. Reveling in the landscape where the dogs were born, their excitement as uncontainable as the smile one feels from a good wave or a deep faceshot, we strapped on our suits and paddled out. We were originally inspired to name our dogs "waves" and "snow" in Spanish because of an obsession with the mountain/ocean lifestyle.� Enjoying both in one day was a dream come true.� There wasn't a clean swell crashing into the shore, and there wasn't a 3 foot dump on the way, but linking the surf and ski day together was as good of a day as it gets- surely worth playing the motivation game.� Spring is a season teaming with gifts.

So get out there and ski a lap on Teton Pass before you paddle the river this afternoon, or ski a few laps at Snowbird before you go climbing at sunset. Enjoy the classic Bend biathalon... Just remember to take full advantage of each day and let us at skiingthebackcountry.com know how it went. Happy Adventuring!
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