I was excited to finally get to ski Mt. Stuart. I had been thinking of this line for the better part of a year, and I finally felt I was a strong enough skier to get it done. My friend Ben had it on his list, and suggested I come do it with him and his other friend - coincidentally also named Ben, in preparation for their planned ski of the Fuhrer Finger. Luckily for me, horrible with names, I wouldn’t have to worry about forgetting anyone’s.

Our plan was to drive the road to Esmerelda trailhead until we hit impassible snow. Ben called me from Cle Elum and told me he had left his crampons in Belleview, so we’d have to wait a bit for him to arrive. I would meet up with other Ben and we could walk the road to the trailhead, where we planned to set up camp and get an early start the next morning. As I drove up the road, the snow crossings got more and more difficult. As I was about to stop and park, I see a car beached on a large snow bank in the middle of the road. This was Ben.

We spent the next 2 hours digging out his car, eventually pulling it out with a forceful boink from my CR-V. Soon after, Ben pulled up, crampons in tow, and we were off to camp. The trailhead was just as I remembered it from the summer, noticably lacking the hoards of people lining the road for miles back from the actual parking lot. We found the bathroom to be open though, so we enjoyed a windless place to store gear, cook dinner, and poop. What more could you want?

The next morning we woke up far too early, made some coffee in the bathroom, and started our way up to Long’s Pass. We initially started off with skins on, but soon found the going steep and icy, so we switched to booting soon after leaving the trailhead. The Bens are good booting company, and soon the trees gave way to more alpine terrain as we gained Long’s and switched to skis.

We dropped down to the creek - a much better experience in the winter than in the summer - and found the log crossing. After some precarious balancing in ski boots, we were all across. We soon found the base of the couloir and started heading up. The base was rocky and we booted through thin spots before entering the main chute where things got much steeper and more sustained.

There was lots of booting. I had never done such a sustained and steep line before, and I was simultaneously nervous and excited. Moreso, I found I was more comfortable in that terrain that I expected to be. It was late morning, and it had been a long morning. The sun was starting to crest into the couloir, but we were making headway. We just kept booting up.

We eventually reached the top of the couloir after a large, open basin. Ben and I decided to transition on a little bump above the logical end to the couloir, while Ben made the very steep climb up to the false summit. We claimed to have come to ski the couloir, not the peak, but I think in truth we were both pretty exhasuted. Additionally, a large portion of our discussions had started to gravitate towards the north side of Long’s Pass, which was starting to receive sustantial sun input. We were growing worried about the risk of wet loose slides, perpetuated by the obvious cornices we could see from our vantage point on Stuart.

Our ski timing was perfect, and we enjoyed perfect corn skiing top to bottom in the couloir, passing a few parties on our way down. We crossed the river, and made our way back up towards Long’s, where we crossed through a massive section of blowdown we had missed in the morning. This was definitely a result of some of this winter’s huge storms, and it looked fresh. Up at Long’s, we picked a line that had no hangfire and blasted our way up, with the top portion getting very steep for a few steps. We wouldn’t have wanted the snow to be any wetter, so I think our timing here was perfect.

We skied the south side of Long’s in heavy, slushy snow. All things considered, it was incredibly enjoyable and we eventually found ourselves picking through the last sections of steep trees before arriving back at our tents in the parking lot.

As we were walking out, both Bens invited me to ski the Fuhrer Finger with them the following weekend. I declined, saying I wasn’t a good enough skier yet, but they insisted, telling me I was definitely strong enough after what they had seen this weekend, so I agreed. This trip would serve as a defining switch in my ski journey.

A video of our decent: