Avalanche Art

The paradox.  The trade-off.  Watching a wolf take down an otherwise healthy cow elk while giving birth is a horrible site, no doubt, until one considers the den full of hungry pups, dependent entirely on their mom's provisional skills.  Okay, well, maybe that's not the best example, given the controversial existence of re-introduced wolves in the American west.  But you can come up with your own species to use as an example, right?

Avalanches kill.  Snow on a slope has potential energy.  Its energy can destroy everything in its path, including old growth trees, railroads, bridges, buildings, cars, and people.  As a professional ski patroller I have seen many avalanches.  I've initiated many avalanches.  Most often these are initiated with explosives, guns, or artillery, and occasionally with ski cuts.  The idea is that we will release that stored energy intentionally instead of allowing them to build and release at an inopportune time, such as when many recreational skiers are in the line of fire.

I have pulled my fair share of victims from avalanches.  Some lived.  Some died.  Some of them were strangers.  Some were my friends or peers.  It is a bittersweet site, these avalanches.  The power is impressive, as impressive as an F-16 fighter jet taking off at close proximity, a railroad locomotive accelerating, or a high alritude helicopter defying gravity on a mountain rescue. 

As death is a part of life, beauty can be found in power and destruction.  This photo is an attempt to enjoy the beauty of an extremely powerful and potentially devastating event.  This avalanche today, from a safe distance, was a beautiful site to behold. 

MOUNTAIN GOAT

  From time to time I find it important to bring to the front of consciousness how fortunate we are to have such a diversity of wildlife in this area.  For example, while going to where I thought I'd see mountain goats today, I saw a plethora of critters:  deer, elk, bald eagles, waterfowl.  Not a bad way to spend a day off from work.

  Though some people like to bad-mouth goats in this region, I personally enjoy seeing them.  They are very unique looking creatures.  And as a long-time climber and mountain guide, I have tremendous respect for their travel skills.  Some folks will tell you that they run off the bighorn sheep, pushing the sheep into even less hospitable habitat.  Hmmm, there seems to be no persuasive scientific evidence readily available regarding this.  Considering that I can find sheep more easily than goats, I think the balance is sustainable for the time being.  Oh, and we happen to have the largest Rocky Mountain Bighorn Sheep herd in the world, ... yep, in the world.

  Tonight, as the U.S. President rambles along about his administration's view of the State of the Union, I reflect on the fact that this humble species, the Mountain Goat, has survived for a very long time, something to the tune of approximately 10,000 years before tonight's public address.  Who should we listen to the most?





This is an outtake from yoga photoshoot that I did recently.  Having photographed YOGA as a project for the past year and a half, I've learned a lot about yoga.  I certainly admire all of its attributes and benefits, and it is a remarkable medium with which to honor the art of the human form.



Rough Legged Hawk

    Winter is Here.  Officially, yes, it's a few days away.  But the sun has dipped low on the horizon and the lag-effect of cooling of the Earth is now upon us.  This process has driven many animals to warmer climes, or perhaps windier environments where some vegetation may be more exposed, or to lower elevations where the environment is slightly less brutal.

    Migration.  A long and in-depth process.  Also a long and in-depth discussion, probably for another time when I have more ink with which to write.  Mankind has certainly had an effect on migration, from corridors to road kill to prohibitive fencing.  For now, occasionally with some human help, most species are doing alright.  In the long run, most of them will be fine as a species.

    Lately I've seen a number of rough-legged hawks.  Beautiful creatures.  As the red-tailed hawks leave this valley rough-legged hawks move in.  Though we see fewer species of raptors during our winter months here, we still have quite a few birds of prey, including our national bird, the bald eagle.  For now I plan to continue enjoying seeing these rough-legged hawks, as it seems I'm seeing more than usual.  I suppose the one in this photo from today could serve as the angel in its Christmas tree.  Ahh, maybe that's a stretch.  Maybe rough-legged hawks appear to be angelic sometimes but that doesn't make them an angel!

   
The JHSP avi rescue dogs continually go through extensive training and testing.  A small- to medium- sized pure bred dog is best.  Social skills and obedience skills are a must.  Methods of transporting rescue dogs vary, depending on the location, terrain, distance, and potential hazards:  they must be able to be carried on the shoulders of any ski patroller; they must be comfortable being transported in a rescue toboggan; they must be able to board and unload from a ski lift with a patroller; and they must be manageable around helicopters.  Today's training included loading into and out of a Bell 407 ship under full power, and then staging next to the skid of the aircraft as it lifted off.  Obviously, once at the sccene of an avalanche is when the real work begins.  Having a trained avalanche rescue dog on the scene is certainly one's best chance of quickly finding a buried victim.

Red Fox

  The first real snow of the season fell the other day here in the Valley.   It is inevitable; winter is on its way.  Perhaps in another post I'll ramble thoughts on the trials and triumphs of Old Man Winter.  Shouldn't there be a Young Man Winter also?

    I wanted to get some sort of assessment of the snow in the Tetons during a morning break in the weather.  Certainly there is significant snow from about 10,000' on up in elevation.  This will be something to watch carefully over the next few weeks as winter develops.  If we continue to get small amounts of snow, avalanche hazard will likely be far less than if we get a long dry spell with this amount of snow just sitting, rotting, drying out, metamorphosing into dangerous angulated faceted crystals.  Avalanches kill.  I know this very well, ... all too well.

    A nice prize for my early morning efforts was the view of this beautiful red fox.  Fortunately for me and my camera, he was inquisitive enough to pose for quite some time which allowed me to get a shot or two or three.  Once again, the best camera to have is the one you have with you.

    Later in the day while going for an evening walk I ran across a neighbor and friend of mine, a full time professional adventure photographer.  Interestingly, I noticed no camera, other than possibly a cell phone camera.  Ahh, maybe one day I'll get the shot that sells because I had the best camera with me!

    Short post.  Autumn weather.  Hunting season begins finally for me.  It's still snowing.



Snow King Mountain, The Town Hill

SNOW KING MOUNTAIN, WYOMING

    In contrast to its surroundings, Snow King Mountain is merely a bump that flanks the town of Jackson, Wyoming.  The grandeur of the Teton Range dwarfs nearby mountains, such as Snow King.  Snow King technically is a high point along a ridge that extends from the Gros Ventre Range, which itself, is merely an extension of the Wind Rver Range.  I should add that the mighty Wnd River Range would practically dwarf the Teton Range!  But back to the backyard mountain called Snow King, .. it is a convenient place to recreate, to socialize, and if you walk a short distance it is a place to get away from it all.  

    Recently this autumn I went for another walk on "the town hill," as it is often called.  This time I packed a small day pack, as in, a pack that had everything I would need for an entire day.  

    I began my first 1600' vertical ascent by bushwacking up an obsure, unassuming route.  While trails grace most aspects of the town hill, I often prefer to literally get off the trail.  This time I was rewarded by seeing a cow moose with her two calves.  I do believe it's a safe guess that these were the same three moose that I saw two days prior, right in my backyard.  After summiting the mighty town hill I immediately dropped down the other side, once again off trail.  From this next canyon I continued straight back up, continuing to another ridge that I would then travel back to the main summit ridge of Snow King. 

    The ascent was mostly uneventful, giving me time to ponder and time to listen to the trees whistling through the leaf-less aspen trees.  As I traveled through prime cougar country I thought of all the new residents that move to this area every summer and winter, many of whom just do not know or appreciate their curroundings.  So many folks plug in the earphones, no extra layer or rain jacket, no food, maybe they have a small water bottle, .. and they run through this prime habitat, tuned out to what it has to offer.  As I wondered, and wandered, I heard a snap, then immediately a crash.  Thrity yards away a standing dead tree had fallen prey to the afternoon winds.  No tunes to dull my senses, thank goodness.

    At the top of the ridge I observed the blowing ash and soil from the recent fire.  This recent fire was started by an old man, defiant of the temporary fire ban in place on this extremely dry year.  While burning his trash an errant ember flew into adjacent dry grass.  In an hour's time the fire raged up the mountain side and into the thick forest where it really began to build up momentum.  The fire ended up burning over 3300 acres and costing $9 million.  The town of Jackson was seriously threatened for about two weeks as fire strategists worked diligently to redirect its course.  They were successful, with the help of 600 personnel.

    Continuing along my unburned ridge I noticed an antiquated liimber pine that had been struck by lightning.  The blast blew off a very large portion of the tree which did not catch fire.  And a trench, approximately 1' deep by about 20' long extended from blown out tree roots. 
 
    Farther along the ridge I intersected with the main ridge that would take me back to my original high point on Snow King.  Here is where the recent fire was.  Though it was windy and there was risk of falling trees I spent a little time wandering theough the aftermath.  This paritcular section had obviously burned intensely, leaving nothing behind except for a few standing dead trees and an occasional portion of a partially burned stump.  The ground was black and covered in ash, even after two days of recent rain.  Eerily beautiful, it was.  My culminating thought was that the elk, moose, and deer must be eager for next spring when this area will provide reprieve from bugs, and in one more year it will be loaded with nutritional grasses. 

    Leaving the burn area, I continued along a ridge back to my first high point.   The late afternoon sun provided hints of warmth that the wind quickly neutralized.  I added another layer of clothes, finally had a very late lunch, and lied down and relaxed, out of range of the noise, traffic, and perpetual backup alarms of town development,   Soon I mustered up the momentum to climb the one last hill, where on the other side I ran across a rather large bull moose.  He looked up at me from his bed and realized that I was simply passing through.  Giving him a wide berth I continued past flocks of ravens surfing the eddies and vortices of ridge effected wind.  For some reason the ravens really congregate near Snow King this time of year. 

    The sun has now dropped below the horizon.  I've spent almost an entire day of walking and exploring on the town hill, yet far from town.  Thoughts, pondering, wandering, wondering.  Moose, ravens, fires, and lightning.  Wind, warmth, exploring, snoring.  Not a bad day really, for being so close to town.

    As I dropped into the thick woods to bushwack my way back home, the Teton Range emerged from its veil of clouds.  Bright brief light illuminated the newly snow-covered rugged range, extending along this huge piedmont valley we call Jackson Hole.  And one by one, the town lights began to emerge as night fell.  My long walk today was from town, to the town hill, and back to town.