Background
The Sickle Couloir on Mt. Moran is striking. It’s often overlooked by the Skillet, the ‘classic’ ski descent on the peak, but it stands right next to it. It faces northeast for over 2,000′ at a pretty consistent pitch of 40-45 degrees.
There are two main ‘cruxes’ to the Sickle, two rock pinches that require a good spring snowpack to fill in. The lower one is the tighest and can sometimes be icy.
On our basecamp Moran trip, Nick and I had set our sights on trying the Sickle but wanted to give it a few days to set up. We didn’t want to go for it right away, we first wanted to get a sense of snow on the Skillet. The next day was the warmest and we wanted to let the heat clear things out, so we headed over to Triple Glaciers. That left Thursday as our day to try Sickle.
The Sickle is no joke, you are in the line of fire for a long time booting up it. Patagonia’s Solving for Z film, featuring Zahan Bilimoria, has a grim story of an accident in the Sickle in which a wet slough swept multiple people down the line, killing and injuring Zahan’s partners.
Trip Report
The day before, Nick and I had taken longish-range photos with my camera of the Sickle. We wanted to get a sense of the crux before heading up it. The photos did little to inspire confidence, to be honest. The zoom on my camera wasn’t great, but the lower choke looked thin, really thin. Thin enough to be the subject of waffling all afternoon. As we sat in camp, we debated back-and-forth what to do. Should we go and try it? It’d be a big bummer to get shut down on the last day of our basecamp.
Ultimately, after sipping whisky and hours of music, we agreed to give it a try. We were here, right beneath it, and after one more early wake-up we could head into town for comforts.
We set our alarms for 3AM (I set mine for 245AM as I’m typically slow in the mornings) and agreed we needed to get moving by 3:30AM. We had no time to waste getting to the base of the line and through the crux before the sun rose. The line gets sun early, in particular the upper reaches of the line which see sun as soon as it crests the horizon. Per Steve Romeo’s TetonAT:
Nailing the approach through the thick trees at the lower elevations in the dark is imperative…
We opted to skin along the lakeshore a bit and then head straight up to the base, rather than traverse directly from our camp, which was positioned closer to the Skillet skintrack. We wanted to leave little opportunity for fiddling around in the forest. We had a poor refreeze overnight in the trees, which did raise some concerns in our minds. But we made quick time through the forest and before long we were in the open, finding firmer refrozen snow and ski cramponing up to the broad cirque beneath the line.
We made it to the base of the line in 1hr30mins; travel had gone smoothly and efficiently. So far, things were clicking. We saw a pair of tracks coming out of the hanging ramp system above the Sickle…maybe someone skied the Northeast Ridge? Seeing the tracks surprised us, as we hadn’t seen any evidence of skiers in our pictures from the day before.
We continued to check in with each other as we readied to go up the couloir. Everything can seem more intimidating in the dark, before you have a sense of where you are and what is around you. A brief snow flurry did not help this sense of intimidation. Huh…that’s weird. Thankfully it ended quickly.
We began booting, without ascent plates, finding relatively easy booting. We were quite thankful for the settlement since our time on the Skillet two days prior, where we found deep wallowing.
At around the 2hr mark we made it to the lower crux. On mission days, I feel like there’s often a moment when you know the line is going to “go” before you actually ski it. For me, that moment was staring up at the lower crux in the dark. This is going to go, dude! The lower crux was foreshortened by the angle we had taken the photo and the rock wall above it overhung, from afar making it look thinner than it really was. It was just wider than ski width and plenty soft for getting through. F***k yea, man!! A pole tap to celebrate, the booter equivalent of a fist bump.
Once above the lower crux I synced into a flow state. Conditions, coverage, stoke, and time were syncing. Well-bonded, 4-5 inches of chalk-pow in the early morning hours. Reasonable booting, not too deep. Stoked partners, ready to ski. It was all coming together. I’ve felt moments like this in the past, when it feels like the stars are really aligning. This was another.
I threw on some Kid Cudi and continued to launch up the couloir. I was feeling it, feeling good, feeling in tune with the mountain. Every few hundred feet I’d check in with Nick, making sure all was still feeling good.
The couloir just continues and continues. Once we got a vantage of the top it was still a while before we topped out. We got sunrise maybe 500′ below the top and wow it felt perfect. Our timing was good, the snow was great for steep skiing…happy Sam.
We topped out and fist bumped, psyched for the descent. The skier’s right-hand side was going to hold better snow than the left. There was a minor runnel in the middle of the line but plenty of canvas left for turns. We peered over the other side and sure enough, that ‘sneak’ couloir we’d read about extended down to Triple Glaciers.
We ate a snack, readied for the descent. Mic check, toes locked…let’s go.
Nick and I leapfrogged down the upper couloir, finding great chalk-pow turns. The pitch of the couloir was 40-45 degrees, sustained, great for linking turns. Slough wasn’t running too quickly and was easy to manage, as it funneled into the center of the line. We alternated down to above the crux, where we wanted to have eyes.
Nick led us down the crux, shushing down through the pinch and then making jump turns just below. Plenty of room to make it through…funny how that photo got us so wound up. Below the crux, we fist bumped, again, stoked. We skied firmer snow down below the crux down to the cirque.
Now out of the couloir, we stopped for a moment. Looking back up, we soaked in the moment. We had found flow state, the addicting confluence of so many factors aligning just at the right time. We admired Fabrikant and Haas’ line to looker’s right, for a moment.
We were able to ski back to camp, a cherry on top to the morning. Back in camp by 9AM, we’d skied our line before our friends back home had even woken up. What a morning…better than coffee.
We exited later that morning, admiring Moran as we crossed the lake. 3 days exploring the mountain and we could spend many more. So much to do! We were psyched to have invested the time to slow down and enjoy Moran.
A few final bullet points on the Sickle:
- An early start is warranted. The upper reaches of the Sickle get first light and can quickly begin to slough.
- The lower crux has two options, climber’s left (what we took) and climber’s right (much more involved). The sluff runs down the climber’s right hand side so keep that in mind.
- A long booter, don’t underestimate how long it can take.
- Pitch seems to be between 40-45 for the most part.