Spirit Walker - 2.12.2025

With its beautiful 3,500 vertical foot west face of sustained avalanche terrain rising straight out Mills Creek, Spirit Walker has been on my list for what seems like forever. But, as it has a tendency to do, time has ticked forward without me skiing Spirit Walker or many of the other things on the list. 

Before the glorious midwinter ski window of 2025 came to an end, Dan and I drove south out of Anchorage to give the Summit classic a go. Around Twentymile I realized my beacon was not present. Discussions, brainstorming, justifying, and phone calls ensued. We were saved in Girdwood with a loaner beacon from George - thank you so much. Back on track, we were soon leaving the inversion of Canyon Creek behind and skinning up the old mining road.

We left the road behind where the west ridge of Spirit Walker met the mining grade and began to climb up the ridgeline. I'd heard horror stories about trying to navigate this ridge and imagine they are true between the top of Soul Fire and the true summit, but when we dropped into the Soul Fire face we'd encountered nothing but smooth travel on our climb.


The snow surface had an unpleasant looking texture and it was hard to believe it would ski ok, but a little bit of faith and a few bad turns brought us past the bad wind affect and into really faceted windboard that skied a bit liked corn. I enjoyed the consistent pitch of the ribs of Soul Fire and chased after Dan until we were at the bottom and right under Spirit Walker proper. The detour warmup lap was a great way to maximize the approach to the objective and spend less time in the mega terrain trap of Mills Creek. Stoked on the snow conditions we'd found and what was to come, I continued my hopeless pursuit of Dan as he raced towards the top.


We followed Zack, Claire, and Eli's old skintrack up the south ridge towards the summit. Soaked in sunlight and generally out of significant avalanche terrain, it felt like a great way to get to the peak.

Japanese Trees Ski - 12.26.2020

There is nothing sweeter in the outdoors than exploring somewhere new. Or at least that was our excuse as we drove to, past, and beyond the new snow and deep base of Turnagain for the thinner and worse snowpack of Summit. 

True to our mission, none of us had skied the Japanese Trees before and had for location information a sentence from an avalanche observation. But, as we pulled into the parking lot next to Summit Lake and peered into the bushes we could see skintrack disappearing across the road. Sweet success! Knowing Summit's track record as the place to have your car broken into, we side-eyed the unassuming yuppies in the parking lot then played Frogger across the icy road.

Tom wondering how many laps of stinging horizontal snow are tolerable.

Climbing thru the open glades did indeed feel a bit like the birch forests of Japan. Like those past trips to the Land of The Rising Sun, the new zone closer to home still brought the same enhanced sensation only new experiences can bring - a sharpening of the senses like a microscope coming into focus.

After a few laps the snow tapered off and a hint of sun appeared to the south.

We used the first laps to optimize our ascents and winding descents from alder glades through the birch trees to the road. As the clouds retreated north the snow was painted with a subtle peach glaze - nothing our consumer cameras could capture, but focused in our eyes by the experience of the new.
Photo Nyssa Landres