This was the first outdoors trip of 2018 after several months of inactivity. I wanted to refresh my winter camping skills, do some backcountry skiing, and get out into the mountains for a bit of peace, relaxation, and meditation. It turned out to be quite an exciting trip.
We hiked out of Carson Pass towards Round Top, and we ended up camping at Winnemucca Lake. The hike in was pleasant; it had not snowed for some time so the ground was solid and there wasn’t much post-holing near the road. I carried my skis on my pack for about a mile, after which we encountered some powder, and I put them on to ascend uphill.
Flat Stanley having a grand time at Lake Winnemucca
The evening turned chilly a couple of hours before sunset, and it quickly became cold after the sun set. Through the night, the wind was howling, racing down the slopes off Round Top. For a minute or two, there would be silence, only scattered taps from snowflakes hitting the outside of the tent. Next, an audible warning, like a freight train barreling down the tracks at full speed. A few seconds later, a blast of air would hit the tent, shaking it every which way, and waking me up.
Despite my best efforts at planning, I forgot the snow tent stakes. I only brought the stakes which came with the tent. At around 1am, after continuous gusts in the 50mph range, the snow bank which I had created around the base of the tent for wind protection had been eroded by the wind. Now and then, some of the gusts would hit the side of the tent, and slip under the rain fly, and sometimes even under the tent floor. The snow was falling steadily and heavily by now. I considered going outside to shovel more snow around my tent, but I was warm in my sleeping bag, and I did not want to get wet and cold again.
Well, about 30 minutes later, as I was cozily dozing off despite the howling winds, a blast of air slipped under my tent floor, one of the guylines broke, 2 of the the stakes on the windward side pulled from the snow, and my tent flipped over, rolling me and my gear to the far side. Talk about a wake-up call! I quickly rolled over to the edge of the tent which had lifted, trying to stay in place. I feared that the next gust of wind would wrap me in the tent like a burrito and roll me down into the lake.
The wind continued unabatedly for another half hour or so, until I began hearing gaps of silence in between the wind rushing down the mountain. First it was 10 seconds, then 15, 30, 45. When I could consistently count about a minute or so of peace, I rushed outside to secure the tent. I anchored the tent using my skis, poles and ice axe, and hurriedly built a wall to protect from the wind. It was freezing cold, I was starting to get wet, and barely had enough time to do an adequate job. As soon as I zipped the door on the tent, I could hear the freight train rushing down the hill again. This time however, and for the rest of the night, my tent remained solid. It was difficult to get much sleep, but at least I stopped worrying.
When I woke up the next morning, the landscape was amazing. The sky was overcast, with some grey ominous clouds on the ridge, but the wind had calmed down, there were a couple of feet of new snow on the ground, and only a few snowflakes falling here and there. We considered climbing to the summit of Round Top, but we worried about avalanches and the dark clouds circling at the peak. Instead, we skied some of the surrounding slopes.
Around mid-afternoon, the clouds opened up to a blue sky and warm sun. We were on our way out back to the cars by then, planning to search for a warm meal and recount our stories with a cup of hot chocolate.
Winnemucca Lake
Round Top
pacorios 