Terminal Cancer Couloir. The first time I saw a picture of this ski line I couldn't look away. It's one of the most striking runs anywhere. I wasted an hour googling it and watching YouTube videos. Terminal Cancer quickly rose to the top of my hit list.
The cool thing about skiing is so many different aspects grab our attention and hold our interest. Most of us started out riding chairlifts, maybe taking some lessons and eventually became proficient skiers. Some of you out there became ripping shredders while others, like me, can get down about anything but it might not be pretty.
For me, riding lifts became boring. Too much hard pack and too many moguls. Not that I had mastered the craft by any stretch, but I wanted a different kind of challenge and, more importantly, adventure. There is little adventure riding the cable all day, save for a few side country areas at select resorts where hucking cliffs is de rigueur. The rest is just monotony. Good for honing the skills but not much enrichment for the adventurous soul. Besides, at nearly 50 years of age, I think it's best I keep my skis on the ground.
Ski mountaineering and backcountry skiing changed all that for me. Not only did ski outings now have the element of unpredictability, there was actually significant risk. For newcomers, most of the risk is in the form of objective danger, mainly avalanches. But eventually, even lapping your favorite backcountry powder stash starts getting stale and some of us look to the high peaks for the next fix.
Up high, danger is amplified several fold. It's trickier to hit the conditions right. It takes more effort to get there. But the reward is often getting to ski a line that sees few descents. After all, for most ski mountaineers, it's the line that defines the experience. Whether it's a sweet couloir dropping like a stone from a ridge line or an intricate link up of discontinuous snow fields through rock bands high on some north face. It's the line that captures our imagination.
In the Ruby Mountains of northern Nevada, Terminal Cancer is a short drive from the casinos of Elko. Of course, Elko isn't close to anything but adventurers often drive through it on their way to points west. A recent trip to San Francisco was my opportunity to slay this dragon.
From Elko, the actual trailhead to access the couloir is found just outside of a small town called Lamoille, a popular starting point for sled necks. The road up Lamoille Canyon is plowed for the first five or six miles. In a ridiculous twist of backcountry skiing irony, one need only ski a couple of hundred meters up the road before the object of your affection looms into view. The day I skied it, there was one guy already hiking high in the gut. At least there would be a boot pack in.
After a little careful boulder hopping across the stream at the base, five minutes of skinning had me on the apron and gaining vertical quickly. Ten minutes after that, my skis were on my pack. Fifty minutes after leaving the car, I stood in the narrow col atop the 2,000 foot elevator shaft that had held my attention for months.
Truth be told, the shaft-like quality of the line is an illusion. It's deliciously narrow at the top but after only 50 meters, or so, widens to 20 feet and, surprisingly, never gets steep. This day, it was skied out, with large troughs created from multiple skiers in recent days, perhaps, too, finally sending the line of their dreams.
It wasn't great skiing. First tracks in powder would undoubtedly have been better. With its rising popularity, however, getting it in prime conditions would take luck.
After descending the first 1,000 foot walled-in section, I turned around and booted back up. Not that I wanted to beat myself up in the chunder again but there was some tasty looking corn in the bowl on the back side. It was cooked by the mid-morning sun but the creamy goodness was a welcome conclusion to the morning's quest.
For a ski run that is so striking in pictures, I'd say that actually skiing it was a let down. I expected such a proud line to require a higher price to attain. That said, Terminal Cancer should remain on every ski mountaineer's hit list if only to stand below it and wallow in giddy anticipation.