Trip Report: King's Peak Aboard the Vital 98
Still enjoying an ample snowpack on June 24th, 2023. Uinta Range, UT. FOW: Jack Stauss // Photo: Anneka Williams (@annekawilliams)
It was June and it was Ani’s birthday. All she wanted was to ski off a big mountain.
There’s something spectacularly ridiculous about shouldering skis at a summer trailhead with mile upon mile of dirt ahead. Fellow hikers offer raised eyebrows at our crazy looking packs stacked with gear, and of course they are right. It is crazy. Skiing well into June is never guaranteed.
But, WNDR Alpine’s home of Utah was blessed with record snowfall, and probably the best skiing anywhere in the Northern Hemisphere in 2023. Mountain ranges across the state were pummeled by storm after storm, snow stacking up in unfathomable base depths of up to 20 feet, enabling the season to extend beyond its usual limits. So, to me, it made sense to chase summer lines.
That day, Ani and I walked the trail to King’s Peak, with skis and boots strapped to our backs. At 13,582’, King’s is the highest point in Utah.
After walking in the dark for hours, the morning sun hit, and we finally reached the head of a long glacial valley. Our approach through the drainage was marked by rushing creeks, moose, alder, and sleepy backpackers. Our dark departure had paid off and the snow we found way up in the alpine was still firm and frozen - perfect for crampons on the ascent but prime for warming into corn as the sun rose higher.
Extra late Spring in the alpine. Uinta Range, UT. FOW: Jack Stauss // Photo: Anneka Williams (@annekawilliams)
I had carried in a pair of WNDR’s new Vital 98s, a ski built for big mountains and fast skiing.
Since January, I’ve been helping to prototype the ski and, when I got the final version mounted before this expedition to King’s, I was excited by the stiffer tail and new shape. If we were to find quality corn, I knew the Vital would be the tool for it.
After a short climb to Gunsight Pass, we put our ski boots on and stayed high, diverging from the summer trail. A little ramp of snow led us across a short, exposed traverse. Moving through this terrain reminded me why we had come: to experience the alpine collage of snow, ice, and rock in the summer. The position gave me the feeling I strive for on a day out: the power of the landscape and my place among it.
The bootpack led us to the bottom of a long, hanging valley, where we stopped and snacked. It was ten in the morning, and I figured we had about an hour to the summit of King’s. The snow seemed continuous from here, and I was ready to take my Vitals off my back and begin to move with skis on my feet.
We ascended through talus, spotting pika and marmots scampering among boulders. The snow was still firm, and as we skinned through the basin, a wind picked up. We were concerned that the snow wouldn't soften, that we’d walk all this way out here to find crusty ice. But, it didn’t matter then. We were going to the summit.
The summit ridge offers a spectacular alpine vantage. It’s non-technical but, to the West, the mountain falls away in a sheer cliff. Beyond that drop, the whole of the Uinta Range stretches out in basins, valleys, and grand rocky mountains. The Uinta Range is the largest alpine region in the Intermountain West, and much of the core of the range is a wilderness area. So, as far as the eye could see, was a wild landscape absent of the crisscross of roads or patchwork of development. After having spent much of my winter skiing in mountains adjacent to cities or towns, this was a much needed view.
The deep season snowpack was still lingering in the Uinta. The snow gave the whole landscape a zebra striped look - long fingers of white filling in gaps between rock and forest. I knew the snow in all of the valleys was slowly melting and feeding the Green River watershed, which would in turn run down into the desert and feed some 40 million people spread across the West. So, while I felt like we were far from civilization, the snowpack was a reminder that it is, indeed, all connected.
We hiked along the ridge to the summit, taking in the views and wandering between bootpacking and rock hopping. Easy travel with the edge-of-the-world views made the final push invigorating. The wind from the valley had subsided, and with the midmorning sun and good hiking, it finally felt like summer.
Uinta Range, UT. FOW: Jack Stauss // Photo: Anneka Williams (@annekawilliams)
Calm weather made for an enticing summit break and we lounged on the roof of Utah for close to an hour. It would certainly be a birthday to remember. But, we knew that the snow wouldn’t wait. The wind had died and we were now racing the sun for overcooked corn. So, we snapped into our skis and began a traverse back to the first of two runs.
We found the top of a perfect panel we had scoped from the ascent. A long, planar run with few obstacles. I looked over my tips and smiled. The corn was ripe. Edgeable, supportable, and smooth. Ani and I clicked poles and she dropped in, making long turns down into the basin. I smiled, let out a hoot, and followed her down.
The Vitals had been great on the uphill, but I finally let them off of their leash on the descent. I started slow, making tight GS turns but when I realized how good the skiing was, I let them run. When I got in the front of my boots and up to speed, rooster tails of corn arcing into the air behind me, the Vital came alive. The skis’ intuitive nature helped me roll from edge to edge at high speed, even in the alpine conditions. Stable and solid, I could ski as fast as the mountain allowed for. As I ripped turns down Utah’s highest peak, all I could do was laugh. It was some of the best “Spring” skiing I’ve ever experienced.
Uinta Range, UT. FOW: Jack Stauss // Photo: Anneka Williams (@annekawilliams)
Uinta Range, UT. FOW: Jack Stauss // Photo: Anneka Williams (@annekawilliams)
As I skied the last pitch, the whole basin stretched out in front of me. I saw long fingers of snow striping the wide valley. Like me, these fingers were holding onto the memory of the season, even as the sun melted the dregs of winter into the creek to be swept down the watershed. Later as we followed our footsteps out, I reminisced on the colder months: epic lines skied, deep days with friends, and smiled at these last bastions of winter that, like me, were begrudgingly giving it all up. While it was sad to see the snow melt away into the raging river, I gave thanks for having witnessed such an epic season, the likes of which I would probably never see again.
Why did I choose this new Vital for skiing King's? When it comes down to it, WNDR is not just making your conventional "lightweight AT ski". They are building a product that is both easy to carry up a mountain but will not compromise on the downhill. I believe they have found this in the new Vital 98. This ski reminds me why I love to ski. While I held an edge in the high alpine in June, the Vital connected me to a massive landscape and allowed for that feeling of ultimate freedom of flying through the alpine.
- Jack Stauss, FOW
