Route 4 Couloir

A few weeks back Ben and I skied a line that we have since named "the route 4 couloir." It had all the makings of a mediocre run; south exposure, low elevation, too easy approach. But it was an aesthetic looking line that I had been eyeing for a few years. My summer job as a carpenter had placed me across the street from the line frequently and I would often look at it while I was eating my lunch. A lack of anything better to ski finally caused me to get around to it, and Ben was easy to convince

We did a little reconnaissance by driving up to the end of a road that services an adjacent housing development. We decided that the best access would be from Route 4, essentially ascending the same way we planned to descend. I parked my car in a parking area that accesses a beaver pond and summer fishing spot. As we put our skins on we chatted about the best way to get to our proposed shot and I was surprised to look at the pond and notice a skin track skirting around in the direction that we needed to go. "I guess we could just follow that skin track," I said, silently cursing whoever beat us to our objective. Maybe it was just cross country skiers.

Once we got onto the track it was obvious that it was indeed a skin track. How could this obscure area, miles from a ski area, be tracked? Fortunately whomever had set the track had more common sense than we did and turned around early.

Getting to the top of thing proved to be harder than we thought. We skinned until the going got too steep and then we post holed for few hundred more vertical feet. We ended up in a hand over hand struggle to break out on the summit. At least it was steep. In fact it was so steep that it wasn't holding any snow. We had to take turns skiing first because the second person was reduced to skiing on leaves and moss and rocks. The descent ended up being utterly forgettable with the exception of some antics by Ben like jumping off of a waterfall and falling off of a giant downed tree that he had climbed up on to try and get a view. But that's the thing about earning your turns around here. I'll remember that day for a long time because it was an adventure with good company and a worthy objective. We got some exercise and had an authentic experience that you just can't have riding the wire at a ski resort. And that's why I call myself a backcountry skier, even though the term is over used these days. Even though I live in Vermont where there is no backcountry. Or is there?