Xanadu is an awesome bc project consisting of three parts. Upper: an 800' vert chute with a difficult-to-get-to entrance that won't be in until a few more storms. Middle: what the chute dumps you into, a mountain watercourse/fall that descends 1300' vert. Lower: beautiful hardwood forest kick and guide approach that drops another 500' vert.
The TNR (tiny night rocket, aka Cooper) and I set out to ski the middle and lower sections. The upper section has to be approached from the top and is a major hike with a challenging schwack tacked onto it that I'd like to take a stab at later this season. I had seen the middle section during an autumn recon a couple years ago and it looked promising and beautiful.
The approach fell into place nicely; linking a bunch of logging paths and finally one of the shoulders of the peak where Xanadu lives. Quite a lot of that shoulder is covered by a mature yellow birch forest. I had a hard time convincing myself to put a hooded shell on and start schwacking through the snow-laden Spruce guard of the watercourse when I could have just turned around and skied a gorgeous birch glade!
On the way up, I noticed the snowpack was upside down. There was cracking and whoomphing. This wasn't a concern in the woods, but it could be a problem on a frozen waterfall.
The schwack dropped me right into the watercourse. I proceeded up a ways, but thought better of it given the looming Super Bowl so stopped and stripped skins.
Given the cold temps the TNR hunkered down under a fir during the transition, trying to stay warm.
I stopped before pushing off and offered a part of a Kind bar to the local deities - tossing it into the nearby open water. I know this is irrational and superstitious, but especially when skiing on ice covered waterfalls, there is so much that can go wrong. It surely can't hurt.
I set off not knowing what I would find. Would this be a deadfall clogged mess that I would have to eject out of into the woods? Open water? Unnavigable steeps?
A part of the answer came back within the first 100 yards. A 50' waterfall! A stopped and peeked over the edge. It had "I have a bad feeling about this" written all over it.
There was a bold line that was pretty direct, but I had no idea if the cracks I saw early would translate into all of the snow detaching as soon as dropped onto it. I skirted it and descended a flanking line shown here with the TNR gamely following me.
There was surprisingly little deadfall. However, there was some. I will return with the trusty saw and take care of that. This one was particularly problematic. It was just low enough that I couldn't do a tele crawl under it.
I ended up doing a sort of limbo move that put me on my ass. I could clearly hear running water under me. Not exactly where you want to be. When I pushed hard on my poles to get up one of them went though the ice. It was the only piece of equipment, human, or dog that got wet all day. Thank goodness.
The TNR navigates more deadfall.
Yee haw!
This one was fun.
Dropped the ice bulge and the TNR reprised what happened to me last season when Veg wouldn't budge in a similar situation. Notice the way the snow sheared, confirming my adhesion fears.
I ended up dismounting, which is not exactly recommended with an incompletely frozen waterfall. I climbed up using a handy hole in the ice and snagged her.
Random progress pics.
The TNR dropped this one on her own.
I then came to the top of a lovely sloping shelf that begged to be drawn on.
Eventually a combination of shallower low-elevation snowpack and a rockier streambed forced me into the woods.
I enjoyed a different schuss back to the car than I had come up on.
Post-tour team foto.
This tour started with vague objectives and low expectations; I basically sleep-walked into it, just trying to get out of the house and get a workout in before the Super Bowl. I ended falling ecstatically in love with this place! The complete tour including the upper section is going to kick serious ass.