Words and Photos by Samuel Naney @samuel_naney
I hadn’t taken a trip to Europe in nearly sixteen years, since I was a young buck chasing dreams as a Nordic ski racer. But when a good friend and trusted ski partner decided to move to the French Alps for a year, it didn’t take long for us to hatch a plan to meet up for a week+ of sending lines in Chamonix.
Chamonix. The heralded mecca and birthplace of western mountaineering and legendary ski alpinism. Ever since I’d swapped out my skinning Nordic sticks for alpine touring gear a decade or so ago, I’d read with awe the tales of steep skiing and glacial expanses in that corner of the mighty European Alps, the more cultivated and accessible version of our own North Cascades. Barring a multi-day excursion, our local lines here outside the small hamlet of Mazama, WA, offer excellent powder turns through a mix of treeline and alpine terrain, and a slew of exciting faces and couloirs to explore. But oh, the vertical relief of the Alps! Bless my bindings, that’s another level. 1000 meters of uninterrupted fall-line on 50+ degree faces, guarded by bergshrunds and flanked by spires of legendary climbing lore. In planning my trip, I went in with zero expectations; I’m a good skier by most standards, but untested on that scale of terrain, and I demurred from making a tick-list of any “classic” Cham lines I would want to ski, in order not to get too far over my skis. Or die.
Packing: There was no doubt that my luggage of choice would be the HMG Crux 40 pack. Designed in close concert with that mighty surf-god on skis, Cody Townsend, the Crux provides versatility and ease-of-access for ski touring with sharp things: we’d be needing ropes, crampons, piolet, and lots of pastries: right in the wheelhouse of the Crux pack. And each day when I jammed myself into the sardine can of the Aiguille d’ Midi tram car, I caught the enchanted eyes of other ski mountaineers gazing at the pack’s clean lines and efficient radness. That’s right, Europe, gaze and wonder at Maine ingenuity.
Within 12 hours of my arrival, blessedly free of jetlag thanks to a hearty dose of melatonin on my trans-Atlantic flight and a deep slumber that kept me out until landing, we were on the Nautillon glacier, heading up toward the Spencer Couloir, objective #1 on my partner’s menu of options for the week. Ropes in each bag and janglies on our harnesses made sure that either of us could pull the other out of a crack if the unexpected happened. The handy waistbelt pocket of the Crux happened to be the PERFECT size to fit a pain au chocolat pastry; go figure… The nature of that line, and the many to come in the ensuing week, demanded transitions from skinning to booting, to skiing, to boot crampons, and back to skiing. That first day, I learned how several features of the pack really shone in these dynamic environments: the twin-drawstring top provided an interstitial space to quickly shove a jacket or gloves during a transition. The iconic front elastic pocket caught my skins without subjecting the pack contents to their sogginess. And despite the pack’s ample capacity, the slim profile made it really easy to stash skis in a “Euro-style” shoulder carry during quick bootpack sections or downclimbs to rappels.
You’re inherently rolling the dice when planning a destination ski trip, especially when it involves multiple flights and more than a few dollars. The first half of the winter was pretty rough for the Alps, and by early February, I was getting nervous that I might be doing more running than skiing. Then they got hammered with nearly 3 METERS of snow in the alpine, and my fears went from too-dry terrain to dying in a D3 avalanche. But Ma Nature had her eye on my aspirations, because three days before my trip, the skies cleared over Chamonix and a high-pressure system moved in, settling the snowpack, preserving north-facing pow, and setting the stage for safe and beautiful touring. For six days, we ticked off line after line of sustained, steep skiing in beautiful terrain. Then a storm rolled in for an evening, and the next two days we skied POWDER, again in sunshine! These Alpen zones benefit from the same maritime-like conditions as we do here in the North Cascades; give them a day or so after a storm, and you’ll likely see the snow stabilize and be ready for your turns.
I skied every day but one on my 12-day trip to Chamonix, allowing a storm day to push me onto one of the many magnificent running trails climbing out of the Valley. I left with sore feet, tired legs, and a lingering taste of the local baguette teasing me to return. I found that my skiing abilities honed in our little pocket of the North Cascades could indeed carry me to some amazing adventures in the mighty Alps, and beyond all else, I found myself reminded of the old skier’s adage: you never know ‘til you go.
Samuel Naney has over two decades of experience as both a high-level competitive athlete and as a coach. He is the co-owner of Cascade Endurance in Mazama, WA, and while he's fast, a sweet metal riff will likely stop him in his tracks.
