“There are many lessons that have to be learned out here, and you have to respect and obey the natural laws that govern the mountains as they are enforced swiftly by the reaper without remorse.”

As things came together we were joined by Willie McMillon, Pat Moore, photographer Aaron Dodds and filmers Joe Carter and Bungee. Willie has always been a huge part of the snowboard scene in Jackson Hole. He started Bluebird Wax in the 90’s which has pretty much been the glue holding our crew together. Aaron Dodds has been a friend of the crew for years and has probably shot more in Jackson than anyone. He drove up from Breckenridge arriving late in the night. Bungee and Joe live in Jackson and jumped on board last minute. Pat Moore rallied up from Tahoe picking up a new sled in Salt Lake along the way. He had just joined the Volcom team and I was really looking forward to hanging and shredding with him.

Our destination was an old, remote hunting compound that exists off the grid. With heated cabins, three meals a day, beds and plenty of room for our gear we were dialed. Upon arrival, a cougar stood poised ready to kill, peering down on us from a beam above the room. His eyes were fixed in death mode trance… ready to seal the fate of its prey. Trophy mounts and pelts of every animal known to exist in this land covered every inch of the walls – an impressive collection to say the least. After settling into our cabins we drove our sleds over to the main lodge and gathered around the central fireplace to warm up after the frigid ride.

After a warm home-cooked meal we began to thaw out. Travis and Mark played a game of Battleship as Pat, Willie, Aaron, Bungee and I caught up around the fireplace enjoying a few beers. Before growing too tired, we got together at the dinner table to study maps of the area and plan out our objectives for the trip. We shared our observations from our first bone chilling day, talking about what we’d seen on different aspects and elevations. We found a good zone, but a thin mysterious crust buried a few inches below the surface ruined the lines. It hadn’t been warm enough to rain, yet it existed on all aspects of the bowl. Our guess is that it must have been the work of “Wizard’s Breath”, a thick warm fog hovering around the inversion level, dampening the snow surface enough to form this annoying layer. The crust seemed to disappear though as we dropped over the next pass, hinting that it was an isolated event geographically. That said, we had really good confidence in the stability of the snow pack, which is rare in this area as persistent weak layers can haunt you all season. Surrounded by endless opportunities of access, our present challenge was where to start? Regarding a little insight from the owner of the lodge, we decided to check out an old logging road known for good hunting but rarely traveled in winter. She mentioned a group of hunters claimed to have sighted a “white wolverine” just as the November snows began to take hold. As far as she knew, no one had been up the drainage since.

Also see: The Untracked Mind: Snowboarding, Consciousness and the ultimate reality

We awoke to find mostly grey skies with clouds lingering on the peaks obstructing our views. Overnight a weak front filled in and brought the temps up, still just below zero but warm compared to the -26F we experienced at the trailhead just twenty-four hours before.

After breakfast, we gathered out front, got our gear together, tested our radios and beacons and topped off our sleds with oil and gas. Knowing it was going to be a long day out in the elements, we brought every warm layer we had and filled our Thermoses with hot drinks. The sound of seven sleds roared as we set out on the groomed trail for a long day of exploration. Some pinned it out of the gate getting in front of the pack while the others fell into formation and cruised along, stopping occasionally to adjust helmets and balaclavas as any exposed skin would quickly succumb to frostbite. We found the old logging road leading up the drainage we were looking for and followed it for several miles breaking trail in untouched powder. As we got higher, the mountain road fizzled out and we regrouped in a clearing at the base of a steep hill covered in thick forest. After referencing our map, it looked as if we had two options and we decided to split up and send a group each way. Travis and Pat set off in one direction and Mark and I headed in the other, while the rest of the group stayed put and waited for the radio call. Mark and I quickly covered some ground winding through thick deadfall covered in Old Man’s Beard, occasionally picking up evidence of a forgotten road the forest was trying to reclaim. We pushed on until eventually coming to a dead end. On our retreat to regroup we got the call – the other team had found the way. Without losing a minute we grabbed the rest of the crew and moved on.

Continue reading on the next page…