An avalanche is nothing i want to be a part of

1/31/10
Gulmarg

Matt and I took a day trip to Srinagar the other day before the forecasted storm rolled in. According to Matt, this was the smoothest Srinagar trip he’s ever had. We shared a taxi down with James, who was on his way home. We wanted to find a certain houseboat we heard did a great job. These houseboats are more like floating motels. They are permanently moored and have no means of propulsion. Rows upon rows of these houseboats stretch for miles all floating on black, oil-slick water.

In order to get to the houseboats, we had to take a water taxi. This is basically a large canoe with a bed full of comfy pillows, positioned under a decorated roof. It was apparent after a few minutes of rowing through the maze of floating houses that our taxi guy didn’t know where the houseboat we were looking for was. This was fine anyway because it was nice just being out on the still water, and the sun was beginning to poke through the clouds. We ended up talking to a different houseboat guy who invited us into his house. His living room was completely lined with intricate carpet and comfortable pillows. No furniture. We sat on the floor and drank some tea. I’m pretty sure this room was primarily used as an opium den. We talked about setting up a houseboat stay for sometime in the next month.

After we left the lake, Matt and I picked up some alcohol and food at a westernized market. I found a whole wheel of fresh Kashmiri Gouda cheese and decided to splurge for the five dollars. I also bought red apples, apricot preserves, and toast to finish off the snack.

Driving in Srinagar is unbelievably risky. There are no rules. I’ve seen bad traffic in many places like China, Thailand, or the Philippines, but this place takes the cake. I would’ve felt better sitting in the front seat of this tiny, rice-burner if my seatbelt hadn’t been disconnected.

Right as we got back to Gulmarg, the snow started falling. Hard. This is the first snowfall Gulmarg has seen in three weeks, and it is much needed. The snow continued to fall that entire afternoon and into the night.


We awoke the next day to a blanket of white covering everything. It is amazing how quickly fresh snow can make a dirty place clean. The muddy road was now completely white. Our metal roof sheds large amounts of snow periodically and makes a deafening sound.

Since they were not going to open the upper gondola today, we decided to go up to the mid station and skin up into some trees for a few turns. As we skinned across safe, mostly flat terrain, it soon became apparent the type of danger that lie ahead. Every few steps on the fresh snow and we would collapse s weak layer of old snow underneath and loud cracks and groans would propagate sometimes 100-feet away from us. This is called “Whoomphing” and is very indicative of avalanche formation.

Then we heard the first avalanche. I didn’t seem to notice it at first because I just figured it was some jet airplane, but everyone around me froze when the loud rumble pounded the air. I couldn’t believe the immense power of this thing. It is frightening to think about what it takes to emit that loud of a noise through snow-choked air for almost a mile.

That was avalanche one of ten we heard that afternoon.

Skiing was out of the picture for today so we decided to do some snow safety exercises. First we dig a snow pit all the way down to bare ground (about 4 feet). We smoothed out one side vertically so we could see the entire snowpack. We prodded and probed the snow from top to bottom feeling for any changes in snow density. We soon found out we had the worst-case scenario. The old snow was full of facets (basically small, round ball bearing of ice) that precariously supported a sizeable amount of new, sticky snow on top. Matt very gently cut behind and on the side of the vertical wall and isolated a column of snow 1 x 3 ft on the surface. Then he very lightly rested the flat side of his shovel on the surface and placed his other hand right above the shovel. He bent his wrist and lifted his hand a couple inches up and let it drop. This was enough force to completely collapse the entire column of snow at the weak layer.

This is not good news.

The ski patrol (two American guys) says this is the worst avalanche conditions they have ever seen here, and possibly even ever. The danger is real.

The next day we got up early and waited to be first in line for the upper stage of the gondola to open after ski patrol was finished bombing for avalanches. Since we are so close to Pakistan, the ski patrol here at Gulmarg isn’t allowed to store any explosives, or set up cannons to launch explosives. So whenever there is a need to bomb the slopes, ski patrol must order some plastic explosives fro the army base and then the military must oversee the entire process. Things move slowly. It’s India, get used to it.

The weather was incredible. Clear blue sky surrounded the completely white mountain. We waited up at the mid station while ski patrol went up to check the stability of the snow and set off some avalanches. The scene at the mid station looked something like spring break at whistler. Some people were taking their shirts off and tanning in the sun, snowball fights erupted here and there, I enjoyed sitting down in a chair and letting the sun hit my face for the first time in a few weeks. After a few hours we started to get bored and antsy to carve 2,500 vertical foot lines down fresh powder. We were sticking in bounds today, trying to ski anything that wasn’t bombed would be incredibly foolish, and would most likely result in a death.

A thick cloud had obscured the view of the top of the mountain.

BOOM! Finally, we heard a bomb go off. Out of the bottom of the cloud emerged a sight I will never forget. A pulsing cloud accelerating out of control emerged below the cloud line. It was easily 100 feet tall and growing bigger. It looked like a dam had burst and white water was shooting out at an unbelievable rate. A low rumble filled the air, but it was nowhere near as loud as the ones we heard yesterday. The avalanche continued to rage down the gully of the in-bounds terrain, ripping out other smaller avalanches from either side as it approached the man made avalanche dam below. Just a few days earlier I had been in the depths of this dam, which is basically a earth wall thirty-feet tall and a few hundred feet long, running down slope and curving to the left. It is meant to divert an avalanche away from the gondola station a few hundred yards away. I remember thinking this thing could hold back any avalanche.

As the avalanche disappeared below the horizon of the dam, I thought it was all over. Wrong. The avalanche had enough momentum to climb up that vertical wall and spray plumes of snow and ice fifteen-feet into the air. It was very much like a wave slamming against and overwhelming a break wall. A man standing in front of me yelped and just ran towards the rear of the gondola building. I’m not gonna lie, I considered doing the same even though other people were laughing at this guy’s cowardly move.

This was either a class 3 or 4 avalanche, which is categorized as being powerful enough to derail a train or knock a building off its foundation. There would be no survival in something like this. You wouldn’t even feel a thing.

After the cloud settled, we could see the top of the mountain again. The main avalanche was hundreds of yards wide, traveling over entire ridges, and the crown (slab thickness) was up to ten-feet in some places. The avalanche was so big it also caused other avalanches (called sympathetic avalanches) on the adjacent hillsides.

It was definitely a scary and incredible force to witness. This makes falling on a wave at Jaws seem like nothing. At least you’d have a chance of surviving that.


Full Moon and snowscape right outside our hotel