LaPlata Peak was next. I held out for this one for two reasons. Its North Face would keep snow late in the spring, and it would mean less driving if I could wait until Independence Pass opened. So Dirk, Christy and I loaded up the Suburban and headed over the pass for my third 14er of the extended weekend. Saturday I was solo on Evans. The quick one hour drive was a refreshing change to the usual four hour drawn out approach so common with this stuff.

The trail was dry for a while, after the standard disorientation in the beginning, trying to recall which drainage we were ascending(LaPlata Gulch/LaPlata creek), which seems to happen everytime I visit, we climbed in hiking boots up switchbacks to treeline. Upon reaching the NW ridge, we changed over to ski boot/crampon mode. From there we could see the couloir riddled North Face, with plenty of snow still, this would be fun. Cramponing to the summit on good snow(suncupped though), the vertical passed quickly, which was good as some spring weather appeared to be moving in.

Upon reaching the summit I could see to the south that Missouri Mountains' north side still looked to be in, maybe next week. Even better, the snow below us looked good, unlike the cupped ridge we ascended. Combined with heavy cloud cover which warmed the air- this line was ready to be skied.

The three of us had a a blast. The North Face has so much going on, you can take your pick. From wide couloirs to narrow chutes, natural wind features and abundant rock outcroppings(although we chose to keep our skis on the snow), it has a playground feel as opposed to a long featureless couloir with a single fall line. I would love to ski this again someday.

At the base of the big North Face, where treeline and snowline met(a sign of late spring) we were faced with a decision. Climb/contour around to the west and meet up with the dry summer trail we ascended or follow the thinning snow down into the forest, taking it as far as it went, and walking back to the trailhead. FYI, get back on the summer trail.

Dirk sold us on the notion we could ski what he called 'ribbons of love' far down into the shady forest, and that these ribbons would give us a ski line all the way to highway 82. As Dirks' luck sometimes goes when we we're together the 'love' ended quickly and we had to switch to hikers, going into battle with the forest. With skis mounted in an A- frame on our backs and ski boots in their bindings, we followed old meandering game trails which ran everywhere through deadfall and dark timber for about two hours.

The term 'ribbons of love' stuck and as is often the case the whole drawn out exit just added to the days positive experience. The three of us once again had an awesome day.