Crust crusin' in the Tetons

(Here's a May Excursions column for the Jackson Hole News&Guide. Record snow falls this year meant we got to crust cruise into May, even after the Grand Teton National Park road opened.)

By Amy Schenck

What: Crust crusin’

Where: Grand Teton National Park

When: Springtime freeze thaw cycle

When: The earlier in the morning the better

Equipment: Skate skis and a sense of adventure

The trick to crust crusin’ is catchin’ it at the right time on the right day. Foil the timing and you’ll find yourself slogging through sun ripened snow. Find the sweet spot and you’ll glide effortlessly over countless hard packed miles.

So far I’m two for two. In other words, I’ve had nothing but good experiences crust crusin’.

Ever since I moved to Jackson I’ve had rumors of this springtime activity in Grand Teton National Park. Wait until temperatures warm up during the day, then freeze at night, friends told me. Grab your skate skis and head for the Taggart Lake parking lot. From there, the world is your oyster, or rather an endless blank canvass, perfectly groomed, for cruising just about wherever.

Until this year, I’d always encountered one small hang up: I didn’t know how to skate ski.

But after procuring used equipment, taking a lesson and skiing several laps in Teton Canyon, I’d managed to pick up my V2 alternate on both sides. (My V1 stride is still a work in progress).

Armed with my new found skills, I headed out to the park with two of my favorite companions in crime, err adventure.

Day 1 got off to a rough start. I wore too many layers on my legs, and in the process of trying to get off a pair of pants, I managed to get snow on the bottoms on not just one, but two socks.

Lucky for me, my companions in crime are extremely patient, forbearing individuals. I soon got into a groove, and my mood took a decided turn for the better.

We followed the bluff overlooking the Snake River, in area called Baseline Flat. We then cut “inland” and circled around Timbered Island.

A dusting of snow created a picturesque sheen on top the frozen crust, making it easy to sink in an edge to push off for a glide.

By the time we swooped in for a landing back at the parking lot I had become unabashedly addicted to this offbeat sport.

A week or so later I headed back out to go crust crusin’ with one of my afore mentioned companions in crime. We decided to mix it up, and straight lined it for Jenny Lake. This route involved hopping some half-buried fences, crossing plowed roads and navigating a tunnel-like clearing to accommodate a power line.

The conditions turned out to be even more “cruise-y” then before. It felt like turbo powered skate skiing, especially on Jenny Lake.

We skied across to the far end of Jenny Lake where we found cat-like tracks and bird feathers from an apparent scuffle.

Energy bars and a tight timeframe gave us extra juice on the way back. We arrived to our car in less than an hour. I was even more hooked then before.

With the right conditions, the possibilities for crust crusin’ are endless. Just ask Wilson resident Charlie Thomas.

Several years ago he set out with a friend to ski the entire length of the Grand Teton National Park. He just about made it. He started at the south entrance and got within a stone’s throw of the northern border – he got cut off by a river.

“It was just a matter of everything coming together and having these smooth conditions,” he said. “It was like ball bearings.”

Columnist Amy Schenck reaped a life lesson from this week’s excursion: when all else fails, just keep crusin’. Her columns can be found here every other week.  

Double the Christmas

Cory and I had a fantastic first Christmas together ... and to make it even better we got double the Christmas ... a full 48 hours.

Let me explain ... I was supposed to work at ski school on Christmas Day, so we bumped up all our holiday celebrations up by 24 hours ...

We celebrated Christmas eve on Dec. 23 by making a fantastic Indian pastry filled with potatoes, veggies and delicious spices (see photo #1 below).

On our first Christmas Day (Dec. 24) we opened up gifts, made eggs benedict, climbed Oliver Peak for a backcountry ski, and returned home to perfectly marinated, perfectly grilled elk steaks.

On real Christmas morning, I woke up early, drove to ski school, learned the big east coast snow storms with all their aviation hang-ups meant substantially less kids than anticipated and got sent home. It was a gorgeous bluebird day, and Cory and I headed to Teton Canyon to skate ski. We had such a good time that after finishing Teton Canyon's eight miles of groomed trails, we headed to the Alta Loop for an additional half hour of skate skiing. Some folks refer to this twofer as the "Altathon," named because both tracks are in the town of Alta. I'm now totally hooked on skate skiing ... all it took was finally experiencing the sport in the right conditions (see a few posts below).

Cory and I spent our second Christmas dinner with his friends ... enjoying a Thanksgiving type spread ... my third of the holiday season, since my friend hosted a Thanksgiving dinner on Halloween as well.

Cory got me a backcountry ski pack with an Avalung for Christmas ... one I've had my eye on for quite a while ... what a guy!

Extreme skate skiing

(Here's the latest installment of my Excursions column published in the Jackson Hole News&Guide)

By Amy Schenck

For quite some time I’ve had intentions of becoming a skate skier. Two years ago I even went so far as to pick up skis, boots and poles at a gear swap.

Shortly after obtaining the equipment I went out a few times on the trails behind the cabin where I lived in Alaska. The trails were well groomed, but far too narrow for skate skiing. My short jaunts soon became more about breathing fresh, crisp air under the full moon than actually learning how to skate ski.

Last year, now in Jackson, I again tried to go skate skiing … once, with my roommate, up Cache Creek, at 6 a.m., before work. The thermometer hovered somewhere around negative 15.

The temperatures made it so cold that I got a lot more stick than glide. Soon I was essentially classic skiing up Cache Creek as my much more skilled roommate disappeared around the bends in the trail.

So when Cory Hatch and I talked about going out skate skiing, I promptly informed him that this time I wanted a good experience. As I spoke these words, I was envisioning a 23-degree bluebird day, on freshly groomed corduroy, over Kansas-flat terrain.

How that translated into “skate skiing” through 8 inches of powder in a whiteout complete with wind gusts well over 50 miles per hour and snow dumping so thick that my braided pigtails turned into solid icicles I’m still not sure.

But it began with plans to head to Grand Targhee Resort for opening day Nov. 20. In addition to skate skiing, I wanted to test out the resort’s new beacon park … and write this column about that.

We arrived around lunchtime, just as the lifts were closing because of the ferocious weather.

I checked in with a ski patroller and Targhee hadn’t yet opened the beacon park. Its focus had been on getting the lifts cranking.

In blinding, slapping snow, Cory and I faced a decision: retreat to the warmth and comfort of home or buy a $10 ticket and venture out onto the Nordic trails. Itching for exercise, we chose the latter.

The ticket seller looked at us a little cross-eyed as we bought our tickets. The trails were groomed in the morning, she said, emphasizing morning and then glancing out from behind the booth at the snow piling up so fast that nearly an inch of snow had accumulated on our head and shoulders during the 33 seconds we stood there talking to her.

After Cory assured her he had been on the trails before and knew the routes, she handed over the tickets.

What Cory failed to mention before I agreed to this hair-brained plan was that to get to the easy terrain, we had to go up a blue and black rated slope.

So, although well-meaning, I found it far from reassuring when Cory turned to me as we were clicking into our skate skis and said something to the effect: “Don’t be too intimated by this first hill, it gets easier afterward.”

Less than a third the way up that first hill, my heart was pumping, my legs were throbbing, my core was overheating and I was totally out of breath.

I stopped to rest.

For a beginner that hill would have been brutal without the extreme weather.

Standing there, peeling layers, eating snow, I reveled in the absurdity of the situation. For some unexplainable reason, I was having fun.

With a good dose of persistence and encouragement from Cory, we eventually crested the hill into flattish open terrain.

There, we could feel our way along the groomed track. I mimicked Cory’s movements and started to figure out how to semi-effectively propel myself through the thick powder.

We occasionally veered off course, but knew immediately when we did, because the ground would give way into a fluffy abyss.

Three-plus hours later we had circled the green-rated Snowdrift Loop, pausing to cruise back and forth on the rare sections of trail that were somewhat flat and wind protected.

As we returned to the truck, I decided that extreme skate skiing isn’t nearly as miserable as it sounds. Sure, I still would like to experience that elusive bluebird, fresh corduroy day. But, in the meantime, I have yet to take out a classified ad to sell my skate skiing equipment, so I must have had a good enough time to want to give it another go.

Columnist Amy Schenck has a flair for offbeat adventures, and for befriending folks with a similar mindset.

The ultimate blunder

The Alaska Star made its worst blunder yet since it's been under my guidance ...

We killed the wrong person ... or more specifically we reported the wrong name of the victim in a fatal fire.

Needless to say, I fielded some pretty unhappy phone calls today. Major ooops! I'm still investigating how it happened.

A little stressed out from the day, I went to a yoga class this evening. The teacher was great, and the class has the feel and pace I'm looking for. That calmed my nerves a lot. I plan to continue.

Later, back at the cabin, I was drinking tea and recalling a tip a neighbor gave me last night: the Eagle River Nature Center planned to groom a portion of the trails this evening.

I grabbed my skate skis, boots and pools, which I recently picked up at a ski swap, and headed out the door.

To my delight I found fresh corduroy with not even one track sliced through it. The full moon peaked in and out of the clouds, illuminating the area.

I clicked into my skis and before long I was cruising around on the trails, figuring out what I was doing as I went. I had so much fun ... even with the few face plants I took!

I'm going to try to find someone to give me some pointers on how to actually skate ski ... and then I can get on the frozen-over Eagle River and just go.

I live in an incredible place!

With love, from Alaska,

Amy