Silas Canyon Avalanche

The Silas Canyon/ Calvert Lakes Expedition

Southern Wind River Range
Popo Agie Wilderness Area, Shoshone NF
March 13, 2010

Silas Canyon

Why do we do it? Why do we crave adventure. To many folks a three mile trek up a canyon on skis in winter to climb and ski extreme terrain is just plain nutty. Yet I crave it. I've very nearly lost my life on some of my adventures into the mountains, probably more than once. Doesn't seem to stop me. Sometimes it make you wonder though. Yesterday on our expedition up Silas Canyon I witnessed a friend go through a near death experience. Four miles up in Silas Canyon, up above Island Lake, Darran Wells triggered a soft slab avalanche that caught and carried him over 500 feet. He lived, though he suffered broken ribs and twisted joins (knee/ ankle). The following is an account of the ordeal.

The Trip

The Avalanche

Earlier in the week the weather looked as if it might cooperate for a long tour up Silas Canyon. It had four years since I last toured up the Canyon in the winter. That trip was awesome! Chuck, Karla and I knocked off three couloirs above Calvert Lakes. I was hoping for similar conditions. This time Matt Lloyd and Darran Wells agreed to go with me. The weather warmed up in the week and storms didn't time themselves well, but we decided to take a stab at it anyway.

I picked up Matt and Darran around 5am and headed up to the Louis Lake parking. You gotta get an early start if you're gonna conquer the 3 to 4 mile skin into Silas Canyon, and have time enough to ski some stuff while you're up there. Departure wise- everything went as planned. Pick up at 5am, parking lot by 6am. After 16 mile snow machine ride up to the wilderness boundary, we were off the sleds and skinning a wee bit before 8am. Things were going well.

The skin into Canyon was a little slower than I had predicted. The snow had a thick sun crust, and was not very consistent. It was tough skinning. Had the crust been a little stronger, it might have supported us, making it easier- it wasn't though, so you just had to stomp and plow your ways through it. In the shaded aspects the snow was soft, but sometimes it would give, and you would sink into up to your knees or waist. It was tough work. It took us near an hour to make Upper Silas Lake and another hour to reach the ridge about Calvert Lakes, across from Island Lake.

Darran and Matt take in the views on Upper Silas Lake.

Headed towards the Wishbone Coulior

Matt takes in the view.

Matt follows Darran's trail up to the ridge above the Calvert Lakes Cirque

Putting a boot track in on the last little up.

Darran waits patiently for me above Silas Canyon

Darran and Matt pull skins and get ready to drop a Calvert Lakes Couloir.

We reached the Calvert Lake Couloirs around 11:30am. Although we could see some soft snow in them, it sure looked like they were going to crusty. From the ridge we were on you could see another steep cirque/couloir bluff with lots of potential ski lines. It seemed to be more north facing, which would mean the snow probably would be softer. We discussed whether or not to head over there. Eventually we decided to drop a Calvert Lakes Couloir first, since it was closer and the terrain options more numerous- if the snow proved alright.

Matt perched above the coulior.

A panoramic view of the couloir.

Matt drops in.

Darran slips in.

Weeehoo! "The middle is icey!" he yells.

My turn.


Dropping!


Out of the coolie, bustin' the crust!

The snow in couloir varied from suncrust, to soft slab and icey in some spots. If you hugged the shady side, it was alright. Up high though, just to the right of my ski tips was a soft wind slab. I tried easing on to it and got a crack, so I stayed off of it and followed Matt and Darran's line down. That was the first indicator for me.

Looking back up at the Couloir we skied. Karla's Coulior to be exact- a name I gave it 4 years ago.

Another, little different look at it.

After skiing that couloir, nobody was that thrilled with the super thick sun crust, crud on the aprons- so we decided to climb up out and try the other side, where we had talked about going before. It was about 1:00pm by the time we climbed out of the Calvert Lake basin and made our way over to the other area. It looked good. However as we approached it reminded alot of some couloir I skied with Matt a few year back near the Three Waters area up by Union Pass. That day we kicked a big wind slab loose. Matt chose about the only line you possibly could have to avoid getting caught in it. I've always thought about that decision- I'm not sure I would have done that, or could have. This thing that we were looking at was reminding me of that day on Three Waters. The snow conditions were similar. I said, "Wow, I don't know... those are two pretty big slabs." I asked Matt, "How would you ski this to avoid getting caught if those slabs went?" He pointed a rock band in between the two slabs and said he'd hug that. I thought, hhmmm. Matt can ski that line, but I'm not sure I can. Darran was below us probing the snow above the couloirs, say it was soft and felt good- hard to say though. I spied a smaller line across from the bigger steeper faces they were looking at. The snow looked good in it, and it looked like it'd be a safer spot to be if one of the big slabs went, plus it gave a good view of the lines Matt and Darran had decided to drop. I could spot them well if anything happened. I decided, I'd chicken out and play it safe (something I'm not sure I would have done a few years ago). Gut instinct probably played the biggest role in this decision. That's probably why I didn't say much. I should have. I should have voiced more concern over the potential for the slabs to go. I know that now. Shoulda, coulda, woulda!

Before

After

You can watch the video and see the line Matt skied next to the rock band. He did it just right, but still managed to pull out a small slab at the end of the rock band. You can see this clearly in the video. I'm not sure Darran could see that though, from where he was, basically right on top of Matt's line. It was so steep there, I'm sure he probably couldn't see Matt unitl her cleared the slab. By then, he could see a little sluff, but good mostly good pow that Matt was rippin' up. You can Darran's line as it crosses over Matt's coming my way out onto the slab. In the video you can here him saying it felt "slabby" and you can hear me telling him that Matt popped a slab out. By then, though, he was on the slab and pretty much committed. A turn or two into his run he fell just like Matt as the slab gave out, only this time it was a much bigger slab. "There it goes!" and then "Aavvvalanche!" were the last things Darran yelled before he disappeared, rag dolling into the powder cloud of the Avalanche. Matt was at the bottom, I was at the top. All we could do was watch and spot him. "Holy shit! Please, please, please come out of this alive.", is all I could think. I saw the avalanche uncover rocks and new immediately, even if he wasn't buried- he'd be injured. I felt a huge relief when things came to a rest and I saw Darran pop up out of the snow. It took a while for him to respond to my shouts, "Are you okay!", so I figured he wasn't. Immediately I started looking of a safe way down to him. I could ski, because there appeared to be a significant amount of slab left right under me, and I didn't want to risk sending that down on him. I tried to down climb through some rocks but ended up cliffed out. I yelled at Matt to skin up and start climbing up to Darran (which he probably already was). I ended up having to retrace our hiking trail and down climbed our boot pack before I could find a safe way to get to Darran. It probably took 20 minutes- some that really bothers me. Had he been buried, I'm not sure Matt or I could have responded in less that 10 to 15 minutes. Yikes! So glad he wasn't buried.

Darran sits in pain as Matt and I search for a missing ski and pole.

When we did reach Darran, Matt was first on the scene, he was in great pain and complained of possible broken ribs and a leg with knee and ankle joints that were out of wack, but functional. He had trouble moving at all because of the rib. He had classic signs of shock/ broken bone- cold, sick to stomach etc. Matt found his ski not too far from where he was. I found his pole at the bottom of the debri pile as Darran attempted to start hiking down the slope. With the gear rounded up we got a puffy and fresh mittens on him to warm him up, then we started the rest of the way down. It was obviously very painful for Darran. The whole thing occured around 1:00pm. It was now about 2:oopm. Once of the slope, we discussed our options- call for an evac, or try to get him out on his own legs. An evac would mean one of us climbing a mountain again to get cell phone coverage, and with a storm coming- it probably meant we'd have to spend at least one night before any help would arrive. As painful as it was Darran could walk, so we decided we inch our way back down the drainage and see if we could make good enough time to get back to the sleds before dark.

The slide path and debri field, Matt above.

The start of a very long walk/ skin back to the sleds.

Normally one could ski out of the canyon (no skins) and go pretty fast. Not with broken ribs though. Darran was giving it his all just to make a mile an hour, which we determined was a good enough pace. Matt carried Darran's pack and I broke trail. Seem like we made upper Silas Lake around 3:30 or 4pm. After a while, we had a track to follow but that only lasted to Upper Silas Lake. At the lake we decided to follow the drainage out, to avoid having to climb up through a small boulder field. Our hope was that we'd follow the drainage out and then swing back over to wear are skin track was and try to pick it up again. Nearly an hour later, we still hadn't cut our track. It was 5pm, getting darker out and starting to blizzard a bit. We all began doubting ourselves. We paused to look at maps- concluded that were moving the right direction still, so we continued. About twenty minutes later we finally cut our skin track, not far from the sleds. We arrived at the snow machines around 5:30pm, about four hours after Darran triggered the avalanche.

The next challenge was to figure out how we were going to get Darran to survive the 16 mile/ hour ride on the snow machines back to the truck. Matt used a climbing skin to wrap his ribs and Darran positioned himself on the sled as best he could. It was dark now, and it was snowing. We started motoring. I was really concerned how Darran might fair on a bumpy trail. Sometimes the trail out of Christina lake can get really bumpy after a day of snow machines using it. We lucked out though. The groomer had just gone over the trail- just before dark. We ended up having a freshly groomed trail all the way back- smooth as can be. That's never happened to me- not coming out anyway.

It was past 7pm by the time we got back to the truck and probably later by the time we got things loaded and head back down South Pass to Lander. I think we made the emergency room at the hospital a little after 8pm... not how I enjoy ending a day in the back country. Darran's wife took over from there. I think he's okay, though I haven't heard back yet. I hope his injuries will heal fast. I feel bad, I've been there- it sucks! I wish we would have done more to avoid it. There are things we could have done that we didn't (dig a pit). There are lots of things- but in the end, I think we would have skied it. There are things we'll learn from this event, like others. There were decisions I made and things I did yesterday, that I learned from other events like this. We did do some things right.

We skied the slope one at a time and had top and bottom spotters that were clear from potential slide paths. A few years ago with Chuck, I didn't do this and we paid for it. We did choose terrain that was clear of terrain traps. Although there were rocks, there was not potential for a big, deep debri pile up any where. No cliff bands to get swept over. We assessed the slope and conditions and factored in the potential outcomes of a big slab breaking loose. There was risk, we knew it and assumed it. This time the risks happened. Could've been worse. Could have been better. Should I stop taking risks? I can't... not while living. I can learn from incidents like this, and hopefully expand my ability to accurately predict and avoid them... but I can't stop taking them. I know that. I also know that, try as I may as long as I keep getting into the back country, skiing steep sometimes extreme terrain... I'm gonna see avalanches. It's part of it. Do as much as you can to avoid them- learn as much as you from your mistakes... they'll still happen though.