I’ve complained a lot about Alaskan corn cycles. Considering what seems to be dwindling lower elevation snowpacks due to climate change combined with a lack of darkness, corn cycles in Alaska’s mountains aren’t as reliable as in lower latitude mountains (which have longer spring nights and higher elevation, road-accessible peaks). I skied the Sierras mid-May last season, and both the quality of the melt-freeze cycles and late-season access far exceed what Alaska offers (sans air transport). The same is true for southwest British Columbia, where I’ve spent a couple Junes.
That being said, this trip (April 29-30, 2020) did a lot to redeem Alaskan corn in my mind. I skied what was very likely the best corn of my life with Sam Inouye on our descents from Bombardment (in the am) and Transcendence (in the pm) passes on April 29. In fact, the descent from Transcendence Pass back to our Upper Peters Creek camp was one of the most surreal of my life: 3000′ of steep couloir transitioning to more than two miles of continuously perfect, mellow corn!
We took the easement to Ram Valley starting around 9am and hiked to near the toe of the rock glacier as seen on the USGS map, transitioned to skis, made good time over melt-freeze snow, and were caching our camping gear in Upper Peters Creek in less than a few hours. We found a perfect mound of dry tundra for the Mega Mid (so flat and soft I didn’t even need my z-fold sleeping pad). While there were areas of open water in the Peters Creek valley, there weren’t any close to this perfect camping spot. I was, however, able to dig a quality watering hole through about a foot of firm snow in the creek close to camp. It just took a bit of crawling around with my ear to the snow, listening for running water through thinner snow cover.
Sam approaches our perfect tundra camping pad:
The view up Peters Creek toward the Raisin Glacier and Transcendence Pass:
After some tundra lounging and snacking, we geared up and headed for Transcendence Pass with hopes of bagging Moonlight and Sunlight peaks before the day was over. The climb to the top of the pass was uneventful with good conditions for efficient travel, but the more solar (Eklutna side) of the pass consisted of rotten snow and rock. We noticed an anchor but didn’t use it, instead downclimbing crud and crotch-deep isothermal mank before we could put the skis on for a short descent to the pocket glacier in the hanging valley above the West Branch Eklutna Glacier.
Sam below Transcendence Pass (on the Ekltuna side):
Eklutna Glacier peaks from the base of Transcendence Pass:
The WNW aspect of Moonlight showing our line to/from the summit (up the center snow line):
It didn’t take long for us to boogie up the WNW aspect of Moonlight to the summit. The snow transitioned from corn to moist pow at ~5700′ and we were able to skin to within a couple hundred feet of the summit. While it looked questionable, we took skis to the top hoping we’d be able to make a summit descent by weaving through rocks and away from dangerous cornices along the exposed NW ridge. Descending on skis from the summit, the cornices turned out to be not-so-dangerously overhung, and slivers of snow between rocks provided just enough passage for our skis. After a few hundred feet the slope opened up and the angle decreased. We stopped on a mellow bench on the west face to get our cached rope and superfluous gear. Then we began our traverse east and then south to the col between Peak 6240 and Moonlight that would provide access to Sunlight.
I wasn’t sure what route(s) we’d take up and down Sunlight, but an option quickly presented itself: the NW face. As it would require losing elevation and going out of our way to get to its base we nixed it for ascent, but kept it open as a descent option. The next option that presented itself was the west couloir. It looked straightforward.
The NW aspect of Sunlight (with red line showing our descent down the upper west couloir):
Usually, when looking straight at and up a line it looks more intense than it really is. Thus, we thought the west couloir would be no big deal. That opinion quickly changed. The somewhat-flat evening light hid the camber of the narrow crux sections, and the line seemed (counterintuitively) to get steeper as we climbed. It was also barely edge-able, “slide-for-life” snow. Ice tools were out for the ascent (and they would stay out for the descent). We decided against a descent of the even more exposed NW face due to the firm snow, and longer exit it would require.
The top out of the west couloir put us just a few steps north of the summit pinnacle, which required an easy boulder problem to surmount. After taking in the views for a few minutes, we were locked-in (with ice tools in hand) for the descent. Sam went first and after a few hundred feet and the narrowest crux pulled over to wait for me. I was envious of his ~15cm shorter skis going through the icy, cambered crux. My longer skis were so cambered I worried about binding release as I side-slipped through this section while plunging my ice tool piolet canne.
Sam on the summit pinnacle of Sunlight Mountain:
After this gripping section, I passed Sam and he followed a short distance behind as we made “Zen-edge” turns down the several hundred more feet of very firm slide-for life. While the slope was steep, we didn’t have to worry about avalanches or sluffs while skiing on top of one another given the boilerplate-crust snow surface. We stopped at our superfluous-gear-cache at the base of the west couloir, re-packed, snacked, had some water, and began the boogie back up and over the 6240-Moonlight col and then Transcendence Pass.
Looking west over Upper Peters Creek from Transcendence Pass near sunset:
After dodging some dislodged choss while climbing the rotten chimney that is the Eklutna side of Transcendence Pass, we were standing atop the pass and gearing up for the sublime sunset descent (as discussed earlier) back to camp. Several hundred feet of steep couloir on the Peters Creek side of Transcendence gave way to those two-plus miles of continuous corn. We had hot food and drink as we relaxed in our tundra recliners after a long day. A beautiful and mosquito-free night was a perfect ending to a magical day spent with the best steep skiing partner: Sam Inouye. Raucous ptarmigan sang us to sleep, although one ran into the side of the tent near Sam’s head in the middle of the night.