Latir Backcountry Skiing: Alone with the wind.

Matador Bowl, Bull Creek, Latirs

The Lonely Latirs

I have only gone into the Latirs alone.

I’ve never seen another soul out there.  It’s like another world where only land exists. It’s meditative.

On the walk away from the truck I shed the final bits of humanity around me and breathe in the solitude.

Being alone up there, I feel different. I am more aware.  More focused. I see, hear, and feel more clearly.  I move consciously. I travel faster sometimes.  Others, I go more slowly. I like going my pace.

I cuss out loud.  There’s a bit of that at least. Otherwise, I’m quiet.

As people, I think we are used to sharing experiences. We are accustomed to having that feedback each step of the way. It allows us to manage ourselves in comparison to others. We can lean on others’ interpretations of what is going on around us. We bond with each other through the common experience.

Solitude is different. The bond the experience is pure. My relationship with myself runs so smoothly that the external experience takes center stage. The chain of moments is more apparent, and movement through the landscape primal.  Each time up in the Latirs, I’m reminded of what life really is.

Matador Bowl, first skiing to come into view all day.

A moment and a night in the mountains

I click into the skis, and take strides up through the forest, ducking, grabbing, and pushing like kids do on their jungle gyms.  The movements are like hard ‘play.’ Branches get in my way.  The snow underfoot slows the pace. Then I finally move out into a slide path with views up into the alpine zone. 

The sky opens up and my breathing slows as I cut switchbacks higher and higher. A huge mountain, Bull Creek Peak, surges to my left with skiable couloirs lined up like candles at a wedding.

The geologic time scale of the mountains is ominous. Getting onto the ridge, the Rio Grande Valley opens up to the west.  And, as far north and south as I can see, the river has flattened out a place for people.  A few roads are visible, but the terrestrial feature of the San Luis valley is so huge that signs of life are swallowed, and the curvature of the earth gleams into the corners my eyes. 

 

Cabresto's north face and the Rio Grande Valley below.

More closely, the peaks of the Latirs are massive. As in most ranges here, the snow has followed the New Mexican wind, and is stacked up on the north and east sides of the peaks, leaving the ridges and western faces barren, like an alpine desert.

The wind is raging!

I’m small and alone up here, and the nip of the heavy wind shows my fragility.  I trek onward hoping to see the northern bowls and ski some lines. Ravens overhead briefly remind me of life, then more walking.  Getting pounded by the wind, I move like a drunkard.  My skis catch the gusts that thrust me this way and that.

 

Venado, Virsylvia, and the San Luis Valley, with the Blancas and Culebra in the back.

Around Venado and finally the northern bowl is in view.  Blanca, Culebra and other giants appear in the distance.  The wind is blowing plumes of snow up the windpacked north face of the peak.  Everything is frozen.  It is cold. Damn, no skiing that today.

"Matador Bowl" Ski and Camp and Ski:

I ski Venado’s south slope and head back down into Bull Creek via a sweet couloir I dubbed Toro Grande.  I drop my pack, and head up for a small, nearly hidden couloir.  By the time I get to the top the light is fading, but the turns down the tight couloir are good, and I slide into camp in the trees around 11,600ft.   That was fun.

 

Venado's south slope is on the left, and this is Toro Grande, which was awesome corn skiing.

Next day I have to wait out a storm in the morning, then am able to tuck in two more lines in the bowl I camped in.  Then the wind and clouds pick up and I pack up and leave.

I rejoin society.  A natural truth only found when one goes out alone into the wilderness has seeped in. Noone knows but me, and the mountains.

Some outdoor athletes go out to conquer, to gain a tick.  Not me.  I am an explorer, a learner.  I go out to absorb a place, a time.  There's a difference. It's a big one.

People can still go out and challenge themselves, looking to see how much they can do in a day.  This doesn't preclude a sense of wonder and saturation. But, the two don't always go hand and hand.  A vision, a framing in one's own mind makes the difference.   

 

Toro Grande from the bottom, very foreshortened here.

Cabarets (left) and Venado(center) from the 'Matador' Bowl ridgleine

Toro Mata and 'Matador' Bowl as the wind and clouds get worse

'Matador' Bowl Lines

'Matador' lines

Time to rejoin society.

Stats:

Season: Spring

Distance: 13.5 miles

Gain: 5800 ft.

3 couloirs and a headwall ski

Water:

Plenty down below 10k in Spring, but up high count on melting it with your stove. There are some trickles in the rocks, but nothing on the upper plateau areas.

Approach:

Trail 82 (Heart Lake) to Trail 85  (Bull Creek). Bull Creek trail is somewhat hard to follow in the snow, but it does have blazes on trees, and generally follows the valley bottom. Alternatively there is a south facing ridge that can be used as an offtrail option, and can be generally seen from the lake (see map)

In Spring count on intermittent snow of the annoying type that isn’t good for any one type of footwear, and snow patches that aren’t consistent enough to keep touring skis on.  The road up to Cabresto Lake is all wheel drive, and high clearance is needed if you are not experienced.