Troy didn't want to ski the Coleman Headwall but we convinced him to give it a look. We skied across the summit plateau in search of a sign but all we found was a cresting horizon. The entrance is anywhere between the North Ridge and Roman Headwall. We ended up making some turns down the center and traversing left, unable to see what was below us until we reached a rockband. I knew this led to a large bergschrund. The only question was which side of it to ski. Troy had gone ahead and stopped on a ridge to our left. Right was tempting but I wasn't sure that we could negotiate between the rockband and bergshrund.
Charlie at the entrance.
Right of the rockband.
We decided to go left.
The snow in this section was extremely variable. At the top we found breakable corn, directly below was firm corn and further left was mush. The sun had thoroughly confused us but one thing was certain -- the crux was yet to come.
Charlie near the top of the rockband while Troy waits below.
This was the turning point. Go right and commit to the Coleman or go left and escape to the Deming. Charlie and I had already made our decision. I traversed right on 40-degree firm corn. As usual, the first turn was the most difficult. Several more led to the bergschund where the slope approached 50 degrees. I waited there. My only advice was not to fall. Charlie made some turns while Troy made a switchback. We traded places as I continued the crux.
To my left was a strip of 50 degrees between the bergschund and rock. I ended up traversing this for several hundred feet until the schrud was narrow enough to jump. The slope below the schrud was relatively mild so I took off my pack for some photos.
Troy traversing between the bergshrund and rock.
Charlie jumping the schrud.
Our long and painful death was getting shorter by the turn. We had only gone a third of the way but in my mind, the crux was over. A 45-degree chute led to the open slope with a bergshrund at its base. The chute was of little concern. Charlie and I ripped it despite the breakable corn. Troy sidestepped the majority because he still didn't like the thought of falling. We exited between enormous seracs and vertical cliffs. Fun stuff.
Troy in the chute while Charlie waits below.
Charlie exits the chute.
Charlie on top of the open slope.
The open slope turned out to be the most difficult test of our judgement and skill. Charlie went first and discovered its threat. He skied a diagonal line that caused the biggest sluff avalanche that I've ever seen. Fortunately, he was able to traverse left with each turn. Well, almost. A bergschrund guarded its base and the narrowest exit happened to lie just inside the slide path. I'm not sure whether Charlie tried to beat the slide or misjudged its speed but he ended up getting knocked down just above the schrud. He recovered with enough distance to hop the 10-foot gap and sped off down the slope. Troy and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I went next and cut some sluff of my own. It's amazing how much havoc a couple inches of snow can wreak. I wasn't too enthused about jumping the bergschrund. My heavy pack caused a painless bobble but it was over before I knew it. I turned around for a photo of Troy. Unfortunately, the slope wasn't done sluffing so I was chased to a safer stance near Charlie. Troy made the jump and joined us on the flats.
The start of the sluff. A look back at my turns on the open slope.
We thought we saw a route through the lower Coleman Glacier but we didn’t want to risk getting cut off so we decided to climb back to the cowpath. Knee-deep mush and several open crevasses made for an easy decision to rope up. Besides, I would have felt bad carry the rope this far and not using it. We packed our skis and traded ski poles for ice axes. Charlie led the difficult slog.
Charlie and Troy packing up for the slog.
We called it good where the slope flattened and continued the traverse on skis. There were quite a few people camped and headed up the standard route. I'm sure a few of them watched but we didn't bother stopping to explain ourselves. We took our skis off near the first patch of trail leaving 2-3 miles to hike out. Much of the drive home was spent turning our heads in disbelief.
Charlie cruising the flats.
The Coleman Headwall was definitely the most complex ski of my career. With over 2,000 vertical feet of you fall you die skiing, two bergschrunds to negotiate, rockfall, icefall and variable snow conditions. It's no wonder that we may have been the first to ski it. Having tried twice and bailed, I'd say that conditions this trip were close to optimal. Given the innumerable variations, expect to see me back next spring.