Pronghorn at sunset

The learning curve in hunting as an archer is steep.  Many seasons of spot and stalk techniques have left me close but empty handed. After years of hard work and persistence, I was fortunate enough to harvest my first Pronghorn Antelope with archery equipment.  This short video documents my first two weeks of the season – from stalk to harvest. Enjoy!

Sockeye Salmon on Lake Creek

21 years ago in April, while my mother was in labor with me, my dad was out fly fishing the Missouri River. Perhaps I was born to fish. When I turned 21, I held my dad to a ten year 21st birthday promise – we’d go to Alaska for a fishing trip.

Fairweather Range near Juneau from 36,000 ft cruising altitude

Growing up, my hunting and fishing buddies were my Dad, Paul, and my Dad’s two friends, Phil and Denny. Every summer Phil, Denny, and my Dad, would go on a fly fishing trip into Yellowstone Park. I was never invited. They said that when I turned 21 I’d be of age to join them on such a trip.

Recently, in the first week of August, I found myself along with Phil, Denny and my Dad, in Alaska in pursuit of big fish and an unforgettable experience.

We started our trip in the small town of Hope, on the Resurrection River, catching Humpies on fly rods. Humpy is the nickname for a pink salmon. The Humpies were running hard. We had no problem hooking and inadvertently snagging dozens of these fish with our fly rods. Male pink salmon have enormous hump backs, hence the name. Their humps make them very susceptible to being snagged on the drift.

Phil landing a Humpy on the Resurrection River near Hope, Alaska

After a successful day in Hope we drove down to Seward where we’d spend the next three nights. Our first day in Seward started at 5:30 in the morning.  I dropped the guys off at the marina for an all day halibut and salmon deep sea fishing trip with Captain Larry. I was more than happy not to join them in the ocean due to a traumatic deep sea fishing charter out of Homer, about 10 years ago. The charter with Captain Larry ended up being a bust. The seas were too rough to get out into the open ocean where the halibut were. The guys caught rock fish and ling cod in the bay – none of which they could keep. The additional coolers we had packed became excess baggage.

Over the next two days, the rain in Seward permeated my rain coat. It was time to ditch the coast and move inland. We spent the next two days on the Russian and Kenai rivers fishing for Sockeyes. Here I learned the slap, jerk and pull method of fishing. This involves slapping the water with your split shot weighted line, drifting the line down stream near the fishes mouth, and pulling hard hoping to snag one in the mouth. Sockeye salmon, when they are moving up the rivers to spawn are in their last stages of life and don’t have eating on their mind. To catch and legally keep one of these fish you have to snag them in the mouth – literally!

My dad, Paul, drifting an egg pattern on the Russian River

The fly fishing I have grown accustom to is very aesthetic and pure. Snagging fish, at first glance, seems like a cheap and lame way to fish. After attempting to snag sockeyes in the mouth for two days straight, I realized that it takes a lot of talent – which I lacked. There were about 100 people fishing the confluence of the Russian and Kenai River, and distinguishing a local from an out-of-state fisherman was easy. Locals had their three fish limit – which were all snagged in the mouth – in less than an hour. In the two days we were there I only snagged two fish in the mouth. I have a new found respect for this kind of fishing.

Phil attempting to land a big Sockeye after forgetting to set his drag

Next stop on the trip was the largest float plane sea base in the world, Lake Hood. From there, we took a Dehavilland DHC-2 Beaver 80 miles northwest of Anchorage and into Black Eagle Lodge on Bulchitna Lake. We spent the next three days, from 6am to 10pm, fly fishing nearby Lake Creek.

Mystery Ranch proto on the shore of Lake Creek

As predicted, a large wave of Humpies was moving up the river. Sockeyes, Kings, Rainbows, Grayling, Chum, and Silvers were also in the river. Our goal of filling coolers with sockeyes and silvers was nearly impossible with the amount of pinks. Every time we hooked a pink we’d intentionally try to lose the fish. I eventually gave in. Why fight it?

Denny with a Pink Salmon on Lake Creek

Between the four of us, we caught eight different species of fish on Lake Creek: pinks, kings, silvers, sockeyes, chums, dolly varden, rainbows, and grayling. Oddly enough, I snagged my first ever grayling – a five incher!

Rainbow Trout on Lake Creek

A poisionous Fly Agaric mushroom over the Russian River

Denny said, “Sitting on the deck hanging out with you guys.” My dad said, “Bonding with my son and the freshly caught sockeye we had for dinner in Seward.” I said, well, I can’t say, because certain memories are meant to stay in Alaska. As the saying goes, “What happens on the trip stays on the trip.”

Certain aspects of Alaska were different than I had expected and prepared for. The two spray bottles of Deet never left their packaging and the only mosquito that stuck me was in the Old Seward Cemetery. He must have been excited to see “live” meat.

Daisy in the Old Seward Cemetery

The .44 lever action never left its case.

Tracks of a sow with three cubs

The most productive fly was a bright red hook – the pinks hit it like it was bacon.

Phil with a Sockeye Salmon

Further, Phil caught fish with berries on a hook that had come from a brown bears intestinal tract. I wonder what we could call that fly pattern?

Wild cranberry bear scat

On our last day, as Denny was leaving the hotel for an early flight his parting remarks to me, or “Pearls of Wisdom” as he would put it, were this: Steve, when you’re our age I hope you have two great friends, like your Dad and Phil, to share these kinds of memories with.

Three stooges sniffing mushrooms, which really did smell like licorice

In large part, this trip wasn’t about the fishing. It was about bonding and sharing what is now a memory with three other people that have helped to shape my life.  I shot my first big game animal with help from Denny. I’ve learned from Phil that size doesn’t matter as he can drop goose after goose with his 28 gauge shot gun. As for my dad, in addition to what I’ve learned, I’ve been able to share and experience so many great things with him. Whether it be hunting pheasants, aiding a drunk woman on the Missouri who locked her keys in the car during a winter storm, or looking into his wide eyes while a cow elk came trotting down the trail on which he was lying – my dad has been there for it all. Fly fishing Alaska, for my 21st, was yet another adventure to add to the memory books.

Senior Chief Mike Day on the upper reaches of Mt. Rainier at sunrise

Mystery Ranch is proud to have sponsored Camp Patriot’s 4th annual Summit Challenge,  an attempt by 4 disabled veterans climb 14,411 ft. Mt Rainier in Washington’s portion of the Cascade Range.  As part of the marketing team at Mystery Ranch, we went along to outfit the veterans and organizers with U.S built backpacks, and to assist the team with photography and cinematography during the 4 day climb.
This year’s team included a heroic squad; Navy Seals Mike Day, Jason Redman, and Brian S, and Corpsman Kevin Ivory, all of whom received Purple Hearts for their services in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Their inspiration to climb Rainier was facilitated by heroic stories from past attempts, especially the iconic summit by Camp Patriot Vet Ryan Job.

Scott Parazynski leads our troops on the short lived dry trail

The kickoff to the event was hosted by the Seattle Seahawks at Qwest Field in downtown Seattle.  The event featured speeches from previous summits, other Camp Patriot adventures, and a spectacular presentation by climber and astronaut Scott Parazynski, who joined the team on the mountain.  His inspirational presentation about his 5 shuttle missions, an Everest summit, and life as a medic was a motivating speech that stirred adrenaline in all of us as we prepared for the next day’s trip to the base of the mountain.

Only 9,000 more feet to the top

Gearing up in Ashford at Rainier Mountaineering Inc. (RMI), the team spent the better part of the day packing, organizing, and fueling up in preparation for the hike to Muir the following day.  An early morning drive to Paradise (the trailhead to Camp Muir and NPS Headquarters) wound us through Mt. Rainier National Park, climbing a total of 5,000 feet up the Nisqually River.  A few miles from the trailhead we got the first glimpse of our objective, and within minutes we were staring at the broad south face of the Mt Rainier massif.  Graciously, members from RMI and International Mountain Guides (IMG) volunteered their time to guide the team on their summit attempt which began by organizing the team with trip details and timelines.  As the crew lined up in Paradise ready to march up to our first camp, Camp Patriot organizers bid farewell, and our 4 veterans set out on what they would all describe later as the trip of a lifetime.

View Camp Patriot’s Summit Challenge 2010 in a larger map

The hike to Camp Muir traverses the broad shoulder of the South flank of Rainier known as the Muir Snowfield, and after a sweltering 5 hours in the blistering sun, the team reached camp.  Guides Eryka Thorley, Tim Hardin, and a highly dedicated support group from the Lewis McChord Joint Base, moved quickly prior to our arrival to set up tents, boil water, and prepare food for the crew, which was much celebrated after hauling heavy loads in the hot summer sun.

Petty Officer Kevin Ivory and his dad Winn hike past Mt. Adams towards Camp Muir

As the team began to settle into the oversized IMG cook tent for dinner, no one could help but wonder if the increasing winds would prevent us from climbing any higher.  To pass the time as we awaited any  changes in the weather, the 4 vets shared their own stories of war and trauma as the rest of us listened with utter amazement at the strength and capacity of human nature.

Volunteer Jeff Chiles discussing incoming weather with the NPS ranger at Camp Muir

Sleep that night was difficult to come by as the once manageable wind intensified to gusts over 50mph, and another party’s reconnaissance higher up the mountain brought news of 80 mph gusts.  The next morning, after a restless night as our tents got hammered with consistent 70 mph, our crew awoke to a training schedule organized by RMI guides.  As veteran military personnel, training is second nature to the vets, who took to glacier travel, self arrest and rope management with the highest professionalism.
While awaiting a positive change in the weather, lead guides Curtis Fawley (Camp Patriot organizer) and Art Rausche contemplated the teams options as our time on the mountain was limited.  The forecast called for high winds in the region for the next 24 hours, which only gave us 1 more day for a summit attempt before we had to make it back down the mountain.  In an effort to try and summit that night, Curtis and Art decided it would be best to get some rest and see if the weather would cooperate, so that afternoon and evening was spent tent bound, praying for a break in the storm.

Mike Day tackling a leaning serac

Tuesday morning’s late wakeup call was an obvious sign that we would not be climbing that day, so in an attempt to keep everyone in high spirits and acclimatized, we set of for a day of ice climbing on the Ingraham Glacier.   Mike, Jason, Kevin and Brian all climbed the vertical ice with ease and the extra day of glacier travel was well received as the team looked dialed on the trek back to camp that afternoon.

Our troops first look into one of Mt. Rainiers gaping crevasses

Forecasters delivered some good news that afternoon.  A word of calming winds were scheduled to begin late that night, which gave us hope for a summit attempt.  After a few hours resting, hydrating and re-fueling, our team set off from Camp Muir at 11:30 p.m., roped up and full of adrenaline.

Still before sunrise our troops tower over Washington's 3rd highest peak Little Tahoma

RMI guide Eryka Thorley leads our vets over small cracks near the summit

The route from Muir traverses the upper Ingraham Glacier and across the Ingraham Flats towards the base of the Disappointment Cleaver, an iconic rock ridge in the mountaineering world.  Our team navigated this classic swath of rock smoothly and rested at the top, still in total darkness and isolation.  The route continued around the east side of the peak, traversing up the Emmons Glacier around impressive seracs, rock faces, and deep dark crevasses that appeared to have no end or bottom.  Our team moved strongly and methodically up the glaciated east face, taking few breaks, just for the essentials.  The sun began to present itself early, around 3:30.  The faint wisp of light on the horizon soon became sunrise and cloaked us in a pink auditorium of rock and ice.  As the light went from a faint glimmer to orange alpenglow and eventually bright white, our crew made their way up the upper flanks of the mountain towards the summit crater.  At 6:30 in the morning, 4 disabled veterans, wounded from war and exhausted from 7 hours of climbing, stood on top of the 14,411 ft. Mt Rainier.  It was one of the more emotional summits I have ever experienced.

Summit Challenge 2010 is a success with all four vets on top of Mt. Rainier

The sky was cloudless and calm which gave us an uninterrupted view of western Washington. Puget sound was 50 miles away, but from that perch seemed to be at the very base of the mountain.  Locals from the area were able to identify skyscrapers in Seattle, point out Tacoma, Olympia and the surrounding volcanoes: Adams, St Helens, and Hood.  Our summit experience was shared with photos, high fives, flying flags and plenty of smiles and hugs.

After many summits, including Mt. Everst and 5 trips to Space, the American flag and ice axe summit Mt. Rainier

After an hour on the summit crater, we shouldered our packs and began the descent.  The danger of the descent proved to be manageable as temps did not rise enough to see a lot of rockfall, nor did any of the snow bridges over crevasses melt out.  A brisk pace back to the top of the cleaver and a delicate downclimb brought us back to Ingraham Flats and eventually Camp Muir.  Our support team from Lewis McCord shouldered much of the load, as we packed up camp and began the long walk back down the Muir Snowfield and eventually Paradise, where the Camp Patriot organizers anxiously awaited.

LT Jay Redman treads lightly over one of Rainier's many snowbridges

Like years past, there was a warm welcome of both food and friends at the Whittaker’s home in Ashford and a celebratory Barbeque.  Our 4 vets, the benchmark of this memorable trip, stepped off the bus and were greeted with whistles and cheers, and a ceremonial award presentation for their continued accomplishments.

With crampons still on the group descends the Disappointment Cleaver

A special thanks to those involved in this experience of a lifetime; Mike Flood, GM of the Seattle Seahawks, Scott Parazynski for his inspiration, Lewis McCord AFB for their continued support on and off the mountain.  A huge thanks to our mountain guide support; Art Rausch, Anne Keller, Erika Thorley, and Tim Hardin. Thanks to Kim and Colleen for the BBQ and organizational support!

Thanks to Micah Clark and Curtis Fawley for their commitment to the troops in the creation of Summit Challenge 2010!
Brian, Kevin, Jason and Mike; thanks for all that you have done and continue to do….

Another evening spent locating spring black bear.

I started the spring season with two goals, one: see more bears than I had ever seen in a spring season, and two: kill a spring bear with my bow. Goal one would be easy. I had been working hard to get ready for the spring season. Talking with good friends about how they bear hunt and how to find more bears along the way. I had also been working hard making sure my new Hoyt bow was up to the task at hand.

Bear number one of the year.

The season got off to a bang when good friend Brain Barney and I spotted a huge boar five minutes into our first glassing session. The hunt was on! I bailed off 1500 vertical feet of steep hill crossed the river and made my way up the other side. After a very steep climb my stock was cut short by some very fickle wind, my first hard learned lesson of bear hunting. Bears have a nose that makes an elk look like he has no sense of smell at all! If you don’t have the wind right you might as well not even try it. You will be done before you even get started.

The next day another good friend of mine made it closer than I did to the big boar, but was also unsuccessful. For the next week we tried to locate the big bear but were unable to find him again. Food is key for bears in the spring; without good food bears will not stay long in an area. After not finding the big boar for the next five days, we were sure he left the area in search of better food.

Chocolate soe. not what I want but nice to have around to watch and learn from.

For the next couple of weeks, bears were few and far between. Spring turned back into winter. Foul weather and low bear numbers made it hard to stay focused. It was only about a week later that I ran into friend Steve Drake of Mystery Ranch. He was also having a rough spring chasing spring turkeys. So we decided to team up and see if we couldn’t figure this bear thing out. After a couple map sessions and a few conversations with other bear hunters we had a solid game plan.

As Steve and I walked to our first glassing spot, I could only wonder if this season would just be like all the rest. Within five minutes of being there my question was answered. Bears spotted – an awesome chocolate sow with a cub. Even though the sighting was short it gave me new hope for the season.  Good thing film cameras are a thing of the past, because I would have burned a lot of film taking pictures of bears through my spotting scope! About a week into our tag team assault on the bears I had to make a trip to Billings for work. I knew Steve would be heading into our bear rich area. As I sat in an afternoon meeting my phone started to ring. Guess who? Steve was calling to inform me that he had connected on his first Montana bear! I wish I could have seen the look on his face. Everyone in the meeting could tell he was pumped, from the excited yelling coming over my phone! I was bummed I could not help Steve get his bear out, but was confident that he would have no troubles. The Crew Cab is the best way off the mountain.

Sleepy little chocolate cub.

With Steve’s bear in the bag I started looking in other areas to see if we could take our new found knowledge of bears and apply it to other parts of the state. A long weekend trip found myself and good friend Karl Dagel, sitting behind the big glass doing what we do best. Karl was dumbfounded we found so many bears that close to town. Karl, is from an area that is better known as bear central. He was positive we would be on bears from the word go. He was right.

My bear before the stalk.

First night out I found myself with my boots and socks off wading the river on the stalk of what I hoped would be my first bear with a bow. If I learned nothing else from the spring season, it is that bears have a sense of smell that will put about any animal to shame. Don’t even attempt a stalk unless the wind is perfect. You will get busted!

Once on the other side of the river I worked my way into the trees not long after I spotted the all black bear feeding in the chronic green grass. The bear fed in every direction, never stopping for more than a brief second to get another mouth full of grass. I slowly worked in until I was at the end of the trees. I gave myself a “calm down, you got this” pep talk. As I waited for my chance to loose an arrow the bear continued to do everything in its power not to give me a shot. A couple minutes went by when the bear stopped perfectly broadside. It was really working a chewing – almost like it had got too much in its mouth to swallow. One more click of the rangefinder to make sure, and I came to full draw.

My first bow kill bear!

When the shot broke it surprised me, but where the pin was when it did could mean nothing but a bad day for Mr. bear. I watched as my arrow arched into his jet black coat. The bear jumped, let out a loud grunt and took off running right at me. Oh hell this is not good. I quickly loaded another arrow. But when I looked out from behind my shooting tree the bear was waded up in a pile a mere 13 yards from where he was hit!

I couldn’t help myself, after I realized the bear was stone dead, I did a little end zone dance! From across the river I could hear Karl yelling his approval! My first bow kill bear – I couldn’t be happier.

Packed and ready for the hike out.

Now came the fun part: Pictures, skinning, quartering, and loading the whole bear into my Mystery Ranch Crew Cab! Even Karl could not believe how well the pack rode with such a load in it.

Some good tunes make the hike out that much faster.

Even though my season was over it did not stop me from going out and still trying to learn as much as I could about bears in southwest Montana. Good friend and owner of Big Sky Archery, Gabe Roffe, still had yet to pull the trigger on a bear. He was more than happy to have the big glass picking the hills apart alongside him. On the first night Gabe and I went out, we saw seven bears. The next night we saw four – all different bears. Night three I watched as Gabe made a play on a very big boar. Problem was, as good as our hand signals were, they were tough to see them at almost 2000 yards. Even though Gabe, was unable to put eyes on the monster black bear, he was still sure he could find a good bear before the season  ended.

Gabe with his last minute spring bear.

On June 15 at 10:45 pm I got a text from Gabe, “You still up?” Gabe usually won’t call me unless he really needs help packing something out. From the sound of it, it was more than a one man job.

Double Crewcabs ready for the long walk out.

Early the next morning found Gabe and I a long way from the truck. As we made our way up to the top of the mountain the unmistakable shape of a very large bruin came into focus. With an hour to go in the season Gabe had managed to not only make it up to the top of the mountain, but manage to find his quarry in the fading light. The on again off again rain storms made pictures and skinning a bit more wet that I prefer, but we got it taken care of in short order. With double Crew Cabs filled to capacity it was nothing more than a scenic hike back down the mountain.

The end to what has been the best bear spring of my life.

This spring season was as fun as any I have been a part of. My total count for the year was one animal short of 20 bears. It would not have been nearly as easy to continue to push myself to go, if not for the company of good friends and an iPod playlist or two. I hope to add ten bears to my “seen it” list next year. Next spring, come rain, snow, or shine, you can bet I will be out picking the hills apart with the big glass.

The end of a fun filled spring

Author, Steven Drake, arcing big GS turns down the Gardner Headwall

“We are having way more fun than they are,” said Jake. He wasn’t kidding!

On the 4th of July weekend, I found myself perusing through Yellowstone Park en-route to my family’s cabin just east of Cooke City. I had no expectations for the weekend and expected nothing more than a lackadaisical few days, all while enjoy the beautiful scenery that the Beartooths have to offer.

Pilot and Index Sunset

With that said, you’d be a fool to drive into the Beartooths not toting ski gear. I’m no fool! On the morning of the 4th I drove up to the Beartooth Plateau in search of snow. Things were looking grim at the Wyoming summit. After descending the last switchback before the Gardner Lake pull out, I turned around and was treated to a pleasurable sight. Gardner Headwall’s north and south lines were very skiable!

Gardner Headwall from Gardner Lake

With my gear on in minutes, I hitched a ride back up the switchbacks to the summit and then anxiously trekked across the plateau to the top of the southern aspect of the headwall. The line hadn’t been skied for at least a week – I was more than happy to track it up with some big GS turns. Smooth, steep, corn laden turns funneled into a tight dog leg; followed by big turns down to Gardner Lake.

At the shore of the lake were two guys who had just descended the north line. While sharing our enthusiasm I realized that one of the guys was none other than Paul Gleason, a Mystery Ranch pack designer. Paul was there skiing the headwall with his friend, Jake. We were all wearing Mystery Ranch packs. After a steep climb out from Gardner Lake we piled into a truck and hitched a ride back to the Wyoming summit. A smooth shot between a set of switchback, followed by a second descent of the headwall, awaited us.

Paul Gleason Skiing the Beartooth Plateau

At the top of the headwall, while preparing for our second descent, Jake looked across the drainage to the onlookers and said, “We are having way more fun than they are.” It was a very fitting comment. It was mid morning on the 4th of July, the sun was shining, the snow was perfect, and we were about to drop into one of the most aesthetic lines on the Beartooth Plateau.

Author, Steven Drake, navigating the dog leg on the south line of Gardner Headwall

Big grins were plastered across our faces.

Jake full of smiles after run #2 on Gardner Headwall

After a great day of skiing I headed down to Cooke City for the fireworks. The Cooke City Fire Department, while parading down Main Street on 4-wheelers and retro fire trucks, sure know how to entertain!

Cooke City fireworks over the 1988 Yellowstone Park burn area

The steep canyon walls that surround Cooke, made for an incredible light show. It is the loudest 4th you’ll ever experience.

Nothing like springtime in the mountains.   You ever been sitting around early on a Saturday morning sipping black juice with your buddies trying to come up with a plan for the day?  Should we head to the Gally?  Maybe run the Kitchen Sink, ride Leverich, or try to find some north facing couloirs to boot up?  It’s the fortunate problem we all run into living in Bozeman, and especially during the spring months.  As the snow continues to melt faster and faster with the warming days, we thought it would be wise to try and get in some big lines prior to full blown summer.  Gallatin Peak looks good, as does the Y Couloir on Big Black, but we thought that instead of the classic descent in the later months of July and August, we decided to have at the big NW Face of Blaze Mountain.

The beautiful N Ridge of Blaze Mountain. Photo: Dennis Duenas

I was off the couch after a 3 week stint of travel and work so needless to say I was psyched to stretch the legs a bit.  The sun was blazing by 9 am and we trudged through the venerable stream that was the Spanish Creek trail, past one fork, and approached another.  Years had passed since any of us had been up this drainage, and we hesitated at the crossing of Spanish Creek Trail and High Lake Trail.  You’d think it would be obvious, but we would soon find out that Spanish Creek trail is NOT the right way.  Traversing the base of the stunning NE Face, we realized quickly that our days of interstate cruising on well traveled ground were coming to an end.

Classic Montana style approach. Photo: Dennis Duenas

Montana is known for its heinous bushwhacking, and today was no exception.  We left the comfort of the trail and headed up a steep forested slope, barreling through downfall, tight lodge poles, and just enough snow to make slipping all too easy.  The forest broke a bit and skinning became an option.  Another 1000 vert of dense forest we arrived at a steep couloir we hoped would provide access to higher ground and our objective.  We eventually came to the beautiful E ridge of the Blaze and followed the fast moving scree up another 1500 vert.  Not the best access, and probably wouldn’t recommend it to anyone, but a good time nonetheless, and a Grade A Montana approach.

E Face of Blaze Mtn., with the objective on the right skyline.

Springtime in the mountains. Looking back across the Flying D towards the Bridgers.

The Blaze is not a technical line, but probably one of the most aesthetic descents in the Gallatin Range.  2300 vert of almost perfect 38 degree corn, sort of a sword like slash cut into the middle of the NW Face of the peak.  Perfect wind loading and practically no sun all winter makes the line skiable almost all year.  From the summit of Blaze Mountain it’s about 3 minutes of skiing, maybe less, down to the lake, which to most non-mountain folk would sound insane.  11 hrs on trail for 3 minutes of skiing; that’s right, welcome to Montana.

Mystery Ranch Fuze doing it's job.

The usual suspects atop Blaze Mtn, Spanish Peaks.

The turns were superb, a blend of soft corn and 6 inches of thick pow balanced the mid June terrain, and a slight wind lip cutting the center of the draw made for some playful styles.  A full speed run out into the lake basin, my husky in hot pursuit, and a final power slide to greet my comrades.  Time well spent, eloquently expressed by ample high fives and dozens of yee haws.

Nice way to spend a summer day in the stunning complex of the Northern Madison Range.

Now the fun began.  Having botched the approach completely, we thought for sure we had the descent figured out.  Ha! Little did we know.  Turns out the trail to High Lake traverses alongside the N side of the creek and we were on the S side.  I figured, well, let’s just head down to the creek and meet up with the trail, it’ll be smooth sailing from there.  200 feet above the creek bed I stared unexpectedly at the creek raging below; no stream crossing in sight, and definitely no trail.  With snow running out quickly and increasingly dense Montana timber, we swapped ski boots for running shoes and plowed our way down stream hammering my MR Fuze pack against the bloated Fir and Lodge pole forest.  Alas, we came to a creek we had crossed previously, waded through the spring runoff and eventually crossed paths with our mistaken trail.  Home stretch indeed.

Paying the price in an unexpected Montana bushwack.

A brisk 4 1/2 miles down our now familiar trail buried under 4 inches of runoff, we parked ourselves back at the V.A.N. and reveled in the classic tour we had just finished.  I love Montana…

Hellmouth Couloir is the thin aesthetic line dead center on Alex Lowe Peak.

In the Spring of 1997 Alex Lowe and Hans Saari made the first descent of an anemic ski line they nicknamed “Hellmouth Couloir” in the Gallatin Mountains of Montana. For years the exact location of this line had been lost and it gained mythical status. On September 15th 2005 a peak in the Gallatin National Forest was named “Alex Lowe Peak” for the memory of Alex who had unfortunately passed October 5, 1999 in an avalanche on the slopes of Shishapangma in Tibet. It was then unveiled to many that the Hellmouth Couloir was located on this peak. Kyle and a partner through research found a Summer photo of the peak and along with a brief description that Saari and Lowe had made they discovered the location of the line. Then in the Winter of 2006 they made the second known descent of Hellmouth Couloir. Over the past 4 years a few others have made the descent. Kyle has visited the area many times since 2006 but has been unable to make another descent of the couloir.

Jump to present day.   Kyle just got back from a month long ski expedition in the Fairweather Range of Alaska and asked if I was in for an attempt on Hellmouth. Being a glutton for punishment and maybe a little foolish I agreed to his proposition.

For the last day in May we were surprised at the Winter like conditions, especially below the saddle between Blackmore and Elephant Mountain on the 7 mile approach. At the saddle you get your first view of the peak and you quickly understand why few have gone for this descent- it’s intimidating! Our view is partial due to weather and in retrospect this may have eased my anxieties a little.  From the saddle we descended and crossed the valley between Blackmore and Alex Lowe Peak. The snow turns out to be better than expected and we gladly milk out every last inch of momentum before putting skins on again and making our ascent. We choose to skin up the East face of the peak keeping distance while we make our way through a choke. Conditions were stable but- safety is no accident- so we proceeded with caution. Eventually we gained the ridge, here we removed our skis and carefully kicked steps to the summit, exposure here is pretty intense and any slip is pretty much out of the question.

The author making turns on the upper snowfield.

A quick celebration leads straight to preparation for our descent. At that moment I was very glad that Kyle was with me because the entrance to the couloir is somewhat blind, on a very exposed hanging snowfield any error here may led to you being flushed off the 1000′+ cliff. Despite the exposure the skiing is good which gives us both a touch more confidence. At the bottom of the snowfield the couloir begins and we set our sites on a tree sitting on the lip of the first cliff, which is the first of two consecutive rappels. Fortunately the anchor was fresh, but being leery I backed it up with another sling and descended into the Hellmouth.

The first rappel

Top of the second rappel

After the rappels we ski- conditions are tricky, a double fall line with a touch of avy debris from a previous slide.  Descending a couple hundred feet an interesting feature of the line comes into view.  A large chalkstone partially blocks the couloir leaving a “mouth” on one side and a tight choke on the other.

Making my way down the couloir

The “mouth” agape seems to want to swallow you whole, digest you and then defecate your remains down the rest of the chute. Evidently you can ski under the chalkstone if conditions are right but we both opted for the choke. Once past the choke everything opens up and we exit the chute on a mix of pow and ice chunks from an old slide.

Getting ready for the choke and dodging the "mouth"

It was here where a decision was made- or maybe I just let my big mouth flap.
“Do you want to throw in Blackmore for extra credit?” The proposition tested the silence.
Kyle being in uber-shape after Alaska was of course game. I soon would regret that statement. We put our skins back on and made our way back to the saddle. My legs were so fatigued and began to loose function as we climbed- almost seizing with every step. Once at the saddle I secretly hoped Kyle would want to back down- after all it was getting late.
“So what do you think?” Kyle asks.
“I am in!” I blurt back.  The summit seemed close enough…
I follow Kyle up the gentle ridge to the summit, my legs are screaming now like never before.  Then we reach the summit and now that my body knows the goal has been reached the pain subsides.  We drop off the North face ski one of the main lines then cut right hard hoping to catch the ridge. We gain it with little difficulty and then make our descent out to the truck, where two ice cold beers that Kyle stashed in the snow had been patiently waiting.  It was no surprise that they were the perfect reward for a splendid two peak day.

The Courier bag is smaller than our Outsider, but performs super well on uphill, downhill & flat land bike riding & commuting.  Due to the foam, it also is great for keeping your lower back warm on these cold Spring days.  The extra waist belt is extremely handy for keeping the pack from not moving on your back when riding.  Biking around Bozeman on both road & trails, my sister Mimi (Mystery Ranch production crew sewer & artist) tested the pack on the dirt trails through town & it held up well along the bumpy & muddy terrain.  The courier is also a solid pack for early Spring time condions on our Memorial Day trail bike ride to Mystic Lake.   All of this tied into National Bike to Work week & Bike to Work day on Friday, May 21^st.  Throughout the week, a group of Mystery Ranch employees biked to work, stopping by local businesses that provided coffee & breakfast to those commuting via legs & wheel power.  It was definitely a great way to jump start the outdoor Spring season & Summer sports activities!  So, get outside, grab your favorite pack of choice & embrace the wild Spring weather of the GYE or wherever you call home!

The mission of the Himalayan Rescue Association – USA (Everest ER) is to provide altitude-experienced compassionate quality health care and preventative education to the climbing community, their support staff and trekking-through public in Mt. Everest base camp, using proceeds from this care to subsidize free/low cost health care for the sherpa people of the khumbu region of Nepal.

Raising money, acquiring the medical equipment and supplies, and coordinating the volunteer physicians to staff the clinic requires considerable effort throughout the year.

Now the easy part.

Flying from Bozeman to Kathmandu, Nepal can take anywhere between 30 and 50 hours depending upon airline schedules, layovers and connections. Landing in Kathmandu, it takes no time to realize that Nepal has one of the poorest economies in the world, with about 50% unemployment and an per capita income of about $470 per year. Seeing people living in these conditions not only pulls on my heart strings, it also makes me proud to volunteer time for the Everest Base Camp Clinic, an organization that helps many Nepalis each year.

From Kathmandu, we fly to Lukla, one of the most dangerous airports in the world. The runway is less than 1,800 feet long, 66 feet wide and at a 12% incline. At the end of the runway, a large brick wall is constructed.  At 9,380 feet, only two airports in the world are at higher elevation. As soon as the plane hits the ground upon landing, passengers lunge forward due to the pilot slamming on the brakes to slow the plane in time to avoid the brick wall.

Lukla marks the beginning of the trek to Everest Base Camp. I decided to make the trek unassisted by a porter and loaded the Mystery Ranch G-6000 Expedition Pack with 52 pounds of clothing and gear. I consider myself an “Average Joe”. I am 47 years old, about 6-2, 180 pounds. I am not extremely fit, but I am pretty active. Despite wobbly legs and a load that exceeded my physical ability, I never felt fatigue in my back, my shoulders, or my neck. The pack really did its job keeping the load stable and comfortable on my hips. About six hours later, we arrived in Monjo, where we spent our first night in a tea house. Even though Monjo’s elevation is about the same as Lukla, the trail is never flat and the rocky terrain of the relatively unimproved trail makes everyday challenging.

Day two ends at 11,300 feet in Namche, about  2,000 feet higher than Monjo. Most of that elevation is gained climbing Namche Hill. I have used many four-letter adjectives to describe Namche Hill, but it can best be described as two hours of intense agony. I woke up the morning of our trek to Namche with gastrointestinal distress, most likely caused by a bacterial ingestion. The illness sapped my energy which meant that I tasted more agony as a result of Namche Hill. I knew I was in bad shape when I could not keep pace with a porter weighing about 140 pounds, carrying about 250 pounds. About 2/3 of the way up Namche Hill, I reluctantly handed my pack over to a porter and I struggled up the hill between trips to the bushes for relief.

After doses of two different antibiotics and two days of rest, I felt ready to move forward. I wisely decided to lighten my load to about 40 pounds, much more appropriate for my level of fitness. Two days later, we arrived in Pheriche, elevation 13,900 feet where we spent two nights for acclimatization. I weighed myself in Pheriche and discovered that I had already lost 11 pounds!

While in Pheriche, someone got a wild idea to hike over Khomba La Pass enroute to Lobache. It did not take much to convince our party, so instead of a 3-hour trek to Lobache, we chose a 10-hour trek to Lobache that included a pass that rose above 18,000 feet. It was definitely worth it because the views from the pass were breathtaking. I took this opportunity to remove the top portion of my Mystery Ranch G-6000 Expedition Pack and use it as a day pack while a porter carried my main pack to Lobache (16,200 feet). The day pack seems small and my doubts about its practicality and comfort were quickly dispelled. I carried everything I needed for the long day hike in high altitude with room to spare.

After a long and extremely strenuous hike to Lobache, we assessed our fitness and decided to go straight to Everest Base Camp from Lobache, rather than spending a night in Gorakshep (17,000 feet). We all had a history of acclimatizing well to elevation changes and we felt fit for the 6-hour trip. I surprised most people by sending my porter down and taking the Mystery Ranch G-6000 Expedition Pack loaded with 40 pounds on my back en route to base camp.

I stayed 10 days at base camp. While my tent and my food were supplied, everything else I carried in the  Mystery Ranch G-6000 Expedition Pack. Once we got the clinic setup, I took a side trip from base camp to the top of Kalapathar (18,600 feet) were I saw some great views of Mt. Everest. I carried the  Mystery Ranch G-6000 Expedition Pack on this day trip. I was questioned more than once on the hike about whether I was carrying the large pack to make the hike harder on myself. My response was that the pack was so comfortable that I liked carrying it with a lighter load.

Base camp brought reminders of the hazards or altitude and Mt. Everest. While scouting a suitable location for the rescue helicopter landing pad, we found a mummified arm of unknown origin and age. This served as a stark reminder that people die trying to overcome the elements on Everest.

Mummified arm found at basecamp

A few days later, we were served another harsh reminder of the power and danger at Everest Base Camp. Feeling the fogginess associated with a mind that is only partially awake, I heard a tentative sounding voice saying, “Hello”. I assumed that it was our Peak Promotion kitchen staff who have spoiled us with coffee and tea in bed. I opened the tent with my outstretched hand grasping for the cup of coffee that I expected.

Instead, a Sherpa guide from the Korean climbing team greeted me with a fearful look on his face, stating that he needed a doctor. After those few words, I witnessed a choreographed string of events that resulted in saving the life of a desperately ill man.

Dr. Freer sprung from her sleeping bag and called Lakpa, Everest ER’s Logistics Manager, to assess the situation in the guide’s native language. The guide explained their difficulty waking a kitchen worker who was breathing heavily and coughing bloody sputum. Those symptoms signaled a medical emergency that required immediate action.

Lakpa, the first Nepali to earn Wilderness First Responder Certification, hustled to the Korean camp to coordinate the transport of the patient to the EBC Clinic, while the medical staff prepared the clinic for his arrival. I got the coffee.

The patient, a Rai Nepali kitchen worker from lower elevations, arrived only a few minutes later, riding piggy-backed on a porter. I noticed his grayish-colored face carried an expression of agony and fear. As I saw his bare feet, I could not help but notice that he was a small man, no more than 5-feet tall. My first impression was that he was an elderly man who looked very sick and barely conscious.

He groaned when he was placed on the clinic cot as people he did not know began working on him. His blood oxygen concentration was 29%, meaning that his condition was critical. He could die at any minute and without medical attention he would have almost surely died within the hour. Suffering from High Altitude Pulmonary Edema (HAPE), the man’s lungs were leaking fluid and blood, drowning him.

The medical team immediately coordinated a drug intervention that Dr. Freer called a “a shotgun approach” that included dexamethasone, diamox, Viagra, nifedipine and inhaled salbutamol. The patient, unaware of the protocol swallowed the bitter pills, groaning and expressing displeasure. It was obvious that every movement he made was very uncomfortable.

The 33-year-old man responded quickly to the drug intervention and oxygen, his facial expression still showing fear, but also relief as his blood oxygen level increased to 69 after a few minutes on oxygen. It continued to rise to 92, a level that is considered excellent at an elevation of 17,600 feet. As his condition improved he continually stated, “Thank you, Thank you, Thank you,” to everyone involved in his rescue.

He stated that he felt much better and he began to stir around as if he was ready to go back to work. Unfortunately, a severe case of HAPE like the one this kitchen worker was experiencing required immediate evacuation to the lower elevation and medical care at the Pheriche Clinic. As porters prepared a basket to transport the man to Pheriche, he began to dress himself. He was exhausted before he could put one sock on his foot.

One porter carried the man in a basket, an easier and safer alternative to a stretcher. When in Pheriche, he will be given the disappointing news that his health will prevent him from returning to Base Camp and it will force him to avoid high altitude work in the future.

The safer way out is in a basket.

Without the Everest Base Camp Clinic, the chances of this man surviving this illness would have been slim to none.

Looking into his appreciative eyes, all the planning, effort and agony felt totally worthwhile.

To read more about Everest ER or to support it, please visit http://www.everester.org