Last winter a BlackStrap crew consisting of NW boarders Zoë Vernon, Gabe Ferguson, Mason Lemery, and Johnny Sischo joined Utah skier Sam Goodhue on a powder pilgrimage to the North Cascade range. What manifested was a few glorious days with great people, but a story wouldn’t be a story if everything went smooth...
Words By Zoë Vernon
I rolled up to a large modern rental house located in Mazama, WA on March 10th. A casual 10 minute stroll down the street was the North Cascades Heli base. I was there because I had been asked in December if I’d be interested in joining the Blackstrap crew on a heli trip. It took about 5 minutes to decide on that one, ummm, hell yes.
The Blackstrap crew consisted of Utah skier Sam Goodhue, Bend shredders Gabe Ferguson, Mason Lemery, Jonny Sischo, myself, 16mm master Jake Price, and photographer Lane Pearson. Jake and Mason were the only members of the group whom I had met before but it didn’t take long to realize we had a solid group and it was going to be a damn good time.
Zoë and Gabe Ferguson chat logistics before take-off
The North Cascades Heli tenure had just received a generous coating of fresh snow, guides were reporting stable conditions and the weather forecast was mostly sunny. Heliskiing jackpot. Our first flight out into the range was mind blowing. Jagged peaks boasting steep chutes and spines surrounded us. Although I grew up riding Mt. Baker and the west slopes of the North Cascade range, this was my first real glimpse into what the east side had to offer.
Our first day out was all about testing the waters. We got a feel for the stability of the snow, the crew dynamic and found a few fun features to play around on along the way. The crew was hyped on conditions, we started building confidence in the snowpack and gaining trust with our guides. We were ready to start getting after it.
The snowpack was on the low end in the Northwest, limiting some of the lower elevation terrain but there was still plenty of fun to be had up high. The crew started getting comfy on the slopes. Gabe executed a steezy pillow tap over a blind jagged rock, not surprising for the Bend phenom. Sam Goodhue was an unknown skier to me previous to this trip but it didn’t take long to see that he was extremely talented, going bigger than the rest of us from the start. In the afternoon snow started trickling in and we were forced back to base.
Day two was partially cloudy and we were initially told we wouldn’t be flying. Half the crew decided to drive up Highway 20 and find some road side laps. The rest of us lingered at the rental. One of the cardinal rules of heliskiing is that the weather can change quickly and anything can happen. We got a call around noon from the base saying that clouds had lifted and we better get to the base ASAP. We tried getting ahold of the more ambitious half of the crew but with no luck.The remaining squad gathered our gear and sped off to the heli base. We were stoked to be getting back out there and felt sorry for the other guys for missing out. Remember what I said about that cardinal rule thing? Well, weather can change quickly, and indeed, you should be ready for anything.
After a few dreamy laps, we could see the first signs of a storm rolling in. The guide made the call to pull us out of the field but before our pilot could come get us. The visibility had gotten too poor for her to safely land. We waited for a bit but eventually the decision was made to start walking. In most heli tenures, this wouldn’t be an option but we were relatively close to the highway with a mostly downhill trek ahead. I thought the whole ordeal was hilarious and was in the positive “it’s a part of the adventure” mindset. I can’t say the same for the rest of the group, especially the guys lugging 80lb camera bags on their backs, but it certainly wasn’t worth the gamble of waiting it out. We were able to shred for a ways and actually ended up on a pretty sick pillow zone but soon gravity was no longer on our side and the slog began. A few hours later, we emerged from the charred forest to the much welcomed rescue cars and beers. A type 2, maybe type 3 for some, kind of adventure but what good story isn’t?
The next day we were back at it, the whole squad reunited with glorious sunny conditions. We found ourselves nestled in pillow filled hallways providing many opportunities to set up and shoot. Sniper landings were found and face slashes were had.
Sam Goodhue ripping through pillows Day four was our final out in the field.
Things were heating up and signs of the warming temps surrounded us. Roller balls wove their way down faces and evidence of cornice failures reminded us to stay humble. Sam and Mason scoped a nice diving board and proceeded to wow us all. Sam hucked a huge and effortless backy while Mason executed a cab 5 tree tap. The punchy crust caused by the previous days' warm up and refreeze got the better of them both in the runout but it still left the crew hyped on their respective sends.
I’ve always been more drawn to line riding than hucking my meat and after a few days of insisting we ride a sweet spiny, pillow laden panel that I had been scoping, the crew caved. A pillowy panel framed by rocky cliffs to either side ended in a small spine and I got to drop first. The flatter than expected exit caused me to whoop out in the landing but I was still hyped to ride more of a full line amongst these impressive peaks. We took one last glory run, providing the camera guys a break from their heavy packs and some sweet, sweet soul turns. As we sat in the sun, waiting for our bump back to base, I looked around to our beaming squad, full of stoke and gratitude for the epic past couple of days.
