An Unexpected Ski Odyssey
March 10, 2020 I woke up to news that Nepal had shut its borders to foreigners. My flight was set to leave in 6 hours. I was fully packed and ready for a full value 3 months of alpine climbing. I had taken the time off work, paid big money for months of permits/logistics, and had done the necessary work to harden myself mentally and physically for the challenges ahead. Vitaly Musiyenko and I had received both the Mcniel Knott Grant and the Cutting Edge Grant in order to attempt two new routes. Our first proposed route being the North Face of Melanuphan, the second being the unclimbed cobweb wall on the South Face of Nuptse. The sudden unexpected halt to this project the day we were supposed to leave left us a bit empty and reaching out for motivation. We did the only thing we knew to do, we went climbing and planned to return to Nepal in the fall of 2021. Our first proposed route being the North Face of Melanuphan, the second being the unclimbed cobweb wall on the South Face of Nuptse. The sudden unexpected halt to this project the day we were supposed to leave left us a bit empty and reaching out for motivation. We did the only thing we knew to do, we went climbing and planned to return to Nepal in the fall of 2021.
June 10, 2021, Vitaly, Nicke Maeste and I were attempting to climb the Denali Diamond. We were traversing off of the Seattle Ramp and toward the steep South Face of Denali. We were roped together 30 meters apart from each other when we felt the mountain shake. The first thing I remember hearing was Nick screaming. I looked up to see that a massive serac had peeled from 5,000 feet above our heads and had triggered a large avalanche that was charging straight for us. We all ran and tucked close up against a steep rock wall--the only landmark in sight. When I looked up, my face was smashed with snow and the process of slowly being buried alive had begun. The avalanche lasted about 20 seconds, although it could have been a lifetime with all the memories and moments my mind was downloading in hyperspeed. When the rumble stopped, in both horror and sweet relief, we saw that the debris had flown over our heads and fanned out about a mile. To this day, I am not sure if I fully grasped what I was surviving in those moments. In a state of adrenaline that felt unrelenting, I booked a flight back home the next day.
After this experience, I began to question dangerous alpine climbing. I had always known objective hazards could present themselves at any moment, however it wasn’t until this 20 second moment in time that it really set in. On that same trip, I climbed the Upper West Rib and skied off the summit of Denali solo from 14 Camp 4 days after landing in Anchorage. This was the type of profound experience that I live for; it felt relatively safe and was a mental and physical endurance challenge. Slowly, after some mental work and forced nights of sleep, I started training again. Vitaly and I worked back in some big days; one where we climbed the Minaret Traverse and another where we linked up the Tuolumne Triple with Mt. Conness and North Peak. These days got me excited for the big mountains again. However, Vitaly could still tell I had some hesitations.
September 15, 2021, I purchased my plane ticket for Kathmandu - 1.5 years in the making. My partner Whitney Doiron decided to come and acclimate with us. She had always wanted to see Nepal and being a competent climber and skier herself, was going to find some adventures to tackle while Vitaly and I set our sights on our objectives. September 16th, I received a text from Vitaly that he had decided there were too many things going against us on this trip. All his reasons for pulling out were very valid. His main concern was the uncertainty of COVID and the Delta Variant. He had fears of getting stuck in Nepal which would hold him back from helping COVID patients at his job at the hospital; I shared those fears. Vitaly had also just finished his Goliath Project, one of the most epic solo feats done in the mountains. Taking so much risk and pushing so hard, I am sure his body and mind did not want to jump straight back into the action. To do objectives like these, one needs to have one hundred percent commitment and needs to feel their partner has the same. With both of us having had recent hardening events, things just didn’t line up. But I felt the mountains had other plans for me.
With our flights leaving on September 18th, Whitney and I began to scramble to come up with a game plan for what we wanted to do. We both love ski mountaineering, so the solution was pretty simple - we were going to ski a peak in the Himalaya. With one day to plan, we couldn’t dig deep into finding something obscure so we planned to attempt Mera Peak. Mera is a perfect first peak to ski in the greater ranges. My friend Ang Sherpa who was managing our logistics was super flexible and got everything in order in no time. The adventure began as we scrambled to pack and re-pack and buy the final gear needed for the expedition. 24 hours later, we boarded a flight to Doja. After an 8 hour layover, 36 hours of travel time and 10 movies, we landed in Kathmandu.
It took another 2 days of jeep travel and a 3 hour walk to get us to Pangom, a small village that our friends Ang and Lhakpa Sherpa grew up in. Ang and I have known each other from Seattle for quite a few years. We worked together with a non-profit called Peaks of Life and part of this trip was to visit his home village, meet his parents, and begin the planning stages for a hospital we want to fundraise for and build.
Days seemed to mesh together as we trekked through the jungle with skis sticking up high above our heads. The 6 of us (4 Sherpa) walked through really rough jungle terrain as leeches found their way into our pants and shoes every chance they got. We got so used to the leeches, it was a daily routine to strip down and pull them off just before tucking into our comfortable tea house (without electricity or connection to the outside world) every night. After the fourth day, we surmounted the treeline and got our first glimpse of Mera Peak. It was breathtaking; the white crested peak amongst the jungle terrain.
We experienced white out conditions on our ascent to high camp, you could not see 10 feet in front of you. Whitney and I were breaking trail and navigating via Gaia, an app that could not be purchased by our Nepalese friends. These conditions and lack of access to certain navigation apps actually led a team to go missing a week later. Do not despair, they were found. Since getting to Kathmandu 12 days before, finally being at High Camp at 19,500 feet felt like someone was banging our head with a pot. Whitney had also developed something resembling a flu - body aches, cough, drainage (No, not COVID). No one slept well that night with me popping my head out of the tent every hour to see heavy snow. At 4:00am, I looked out and saw a star. It was now or the forever weather window waiting game.
We suited and roped up and started across the glacier as the sun crested the skyline. The views were out of this world. We were above the clouds and across we could see 5 of the world's highest peaks including Mt. Everest. The weather had cleared, but the storm had deposited about a foot and a half of new snow. Deep trail braking while trying to beat the incoming clouds at 20,000 feet was tiring to say the least. Thoughts of powder skiing in this arena kept us pushing. At 9:15am, we were standing on the summit taking in the spectacle that is the Himalayas. In the distance, I could see the South Face of Nuptse, my original objective I had been planning for 2 years. It was at this moment that I realized I was exactly where I was supposed to be. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t pushing my internal and external limitations in the mountains. I was up here with the best crew possible, the most beautiful 360 views I could ask for, and a 3500 ft powder ski descent in front of me. The clouds had held back and it looked like we were going to get a top to bottom sunny run. As we made the first few turns together off the summit, I remember tears welling up in my eyes of the pure joy we were experiencing. This was type 1 fun at its finest. The feeling of bouncing through turns relatively carefree, taking turns filming each other, throwing air and landing in soft powder, all while watching Everest grow closer is something I will never forget. The descent took us 20 minutes to get back to High Camp. During the 20 minutes, we were so present it felt as if I was taken back to my childhood where you can get lost in your imagination and time seems non existent. I guess that is what skiing does for us. It brings us back to the beautiful art of doing something for pure joy, it doesn’t need to be a first descent to make the beers back at the tea house taste that much better. From High Camp, we had another 20 minutes until we were making the final turns off of the glacier. Right as we clicked out of our skis the clouds enveloped us and a light drizzle began. The smiles didn’t stop until we were back down at the tea house celebrating with friends.
Two days later, I couldn’t get enough. I decided I wanted to really push myself mentally and physically. I woke up at 4 am at the tea house, packed my things and walked toward the glacier solo. I was greeted by the most gorgeous sunrise and by 9 am I was standing on the summit of Mera Peak once again. The skiing was crud, nothing like the summit before, but isn’t that the best part about the mountains? No two days are the same and we need to enjoy being adaptable to the challenges the day has to offer.
A few days later, Whitney and I were trekking through the Khumbu. I received a call from my friend Scotty. “Hey man, Johnny and I are planning a ski trip to Ecuador.” They were set to leave the day after I got back from Nepal. I felt this would be perfect since I would be coming from Nepal very acclimated. Whitney and I finished our trip trekking through the Khumbu and climbing Island Peak. We left Kathmandu with a promise to sponsor two kids from Pangom to go to a private boarding school where they will learn English and hopefully get the education necessary to make a steady income. [[ $1,000 can send a child to a school that includes housing, food, and education for an entire year.]]
No matter if I am being a mentor, guiding, solo-ing or just spending time with friends and loved ones, the mountains are by far my favorite place to reflect on what I am grateful for. Get out there, enjoy these beautiful places, do it with people you love, and remember the best adventures are born from the unknown.