My Impressions

Photos by Peter Dorfinger and Martin

Leaving California

Not that Peter needed much convincing, but were we to claim that it didn’t require a bit of effort to convince his Silicon Valley employer that it would be a great idea to take a month’s of unpaid leave to hit the road and ski, it would be a lie. The arguments, however, were compelling. So I touched down in San Francisco on 10 February 2022, and we hit the road two days later bound towards the northeast.

Leaving the comforts of the Silicon Valley Castle

Not exactly winter, is it?

The usual questions: What did we forget? Were we carrying enough equipment? Was the car full enough…?

It would be tempting call it bad karma but it is surely nothing but coincidence. It might also be part of a wider, global problem. Martin had not had an entire winter off since 2003/04 and 2021/22 happens to be one of the warmest winters on record. It also hadn’t snowed since December as we hit US Interstate 80 in bright sunshine and 25°C. So the options for the first sortie on skis weren’t exactly plentiful.

But we do fancy ourselves skiers, and because skiing is easier to talk, write and read about than it is to do, we had spent some time studying The 50 Classic Ski Descents of North America. Given California’s heat wave, the higher grounds of Nevada were an obvious first destination. The far-flung Terminal Cancer couloir was to become the first descent. As coincidence would have it, our travel library would not only contain the Rand McNally Large Scale Road Atlas but also a guidebook to California’s and Nevada’s natural hot springs. We thus left Route 80 some 100 miles into the Nevadan desert around dusk, for a dirt road towards Unionville, a town abandoned after a 19th century gold rush. Was that the right choice?

Nevada: 600m of vertical and hot springs

The right choice it was. We followed the foul stench of sulfur and set up camp upwind of a plume of steam while wondering what kinds of fierce and venomous creatures we might encounter in this desert. A few goodnight drinks were shared with Craig, an adventurer from Boise, Idaho who had made ‘hotspringing’ a lifestyle, and his two dogs. Craig claimed to have visited, by 13 February 2022, no less than 105 natural hot springs in North America, and counting. He was adamant that Kyle hot springs were among the best and that his passion left no time for other activities such as skiing. We, on the other hand, only came to appreciate the beauty of Kyle at dawn, and went for an early-morning soak with a splendid view of the Humboldt range. Craig gave us two of his self made postcards and bid us farewell.

Our first camp at Kyle hot springs

We hit the road early, had an estimated 2500 kcal for breakfast at a roadside diner, and got to the Ruby Mountains by noon. Terminal Cancer couloir (locally referred to as TC) was just past Elko, a short approach from where the snow cover on the road would force us to park. Albeit somewhat underwhelming in quantity and quality, it was the first sight of snow.

Terminal Cancer couloir, top right

TC seemed rather narrow to ski at first but it seemed to get wider the closer we got. We strapped on our crampons, avoided a few patches of ice and climbed the 600m vertical in what felt like record time. Martin couldn’t help but wonder while climbing how this place got its name. The question was soon answered. Although fortunately this is not based on any firsthand experience whatsoever, TC must feel similar to what every turn on that windpacked snow felt like. Getting to the bottom was more of an elation than getting to the top. We made our way out through the shrubs, crossed a river and got into the car, in the search of the closest hot springs to spend the night.

Terminal Cancer Couloir

12 Mile Hot Springs were the closest springs that appeared remote enough for camping. They are located 12 miles north of Wells, a town hardly worth shooting a picture of.

On the way to Wells, NV

We stopped for supplies, hit a smooth gravel road and made inroads fast, confident that we’d be there by sunset. The guidebook said that a vehicle with high clearance would be necessary, which left us wondering whether ours, a VW Tiguan, a 4×4 off-road vehicle by European standards, would fall into that category.

It did not. Neither did we get there before nightfall. As we took the last right turn, we crossed a few major potholes, puddles and mud pits and decided not to get stuck at a river crossing. We reached 12 Mile Hot Springs by foot and bathed in the dark. Although the view was more constrained, this place was no less spectacular in a moon-lid and starry night than Kyle. Mountain lions must be the most serious threat in this area, we agreed, since it would be too cold for rattle snakes. As it turned out, the only creatures we encountered as we headed back to our car were two teenagers, who were obviously too young to drive, and two grown men, who cleared the river easily in their Ram pickup truck. Note for non-Americans: that is a car about 3 times the size of ours with high clearance. We returned in the morning for breakfast.

12 Mile hot springs

It was time to move on. The drive back was no easier. But we managed to return to Wells and turned north onto Route 93 bound for Idaho.