If you have never been to Utah, or moreover to Salt Lake City, you may not be familiar with the Seagulls. Like a scene out of Hitchcock’s “The Birds”, thousands of these winged garbage disposals scour the Salt Lake Basin for anything and everything to eat. The miraculous savior of the Brigham Young and his crew (uh-huh), the state bird, the scourge of freshly washed cars everywhere, seagulls were bound to pop up in Utah’s striking mountains.
Utah has become synonymous with big mountains, great resorts, and some of the deepest, lightest snow anywhere. The storms hit the western Rockies early and often, and that makes for a long, incredible season. Last year, the Biglines crew headed to Brighton right before Halloween and then to Alta and Snowbird again in January to catch some if the IFSA action. Both times, we were blown away by how amazing the resorts are, and also by the sheer number of backcountry options that surround them. Here, SLC local Rob Quade recounts one of his enviably regular backcountry excursions.
The Seagull, is located on Mt. Tuscarora and is about 1300 leg-toasting feet of vert. It takes about an hour to walk from the Brighton ski area. Apparently approaching from Alta is easier, but since I am rocking a Brighton pass, the approach changes a bit. The safest way to get there from Brighton is to ride the Millicent lift, climb to the top of Millicent, follow the ridgeline to the top of Mt. Wolverine and then ski mostly downhill along the ridge to the top of Mt. Tuscarora. Because the ever-diligent Brighton Ski Patrol was bombing upper Millicent, the ridge hike was closed for me. I ended up skinning around the backside and heading up a small chute to gain the ridge.
The Seagull itself starts off steep at 45 degrees. The chute does a couple twists and turns, choking down to 2 or 3 ski widths in the middle before mellowing out and widening up again. Since I am often a solo warrior in the backcountry, safety has to be first with me. There are a couple good trees to anchor to, the first time I did it I setup an anchor with my skis and sawed a cornice. It's also relatively safe to lower in, grab your BCA shovel and dig a pit. Lastly, there is a good opportunity to get in a slope cut when you drop in.
Fun turns down this winding bird led to face shots as I plowed through my sluff debris, linking amazing arcs under the bluebird sky. While it is always amazing to share the backcountry with good friends, there is something to be said for the comforting solitude of shredding alone, or rather just the gull and I.
As walls of the couloir don’t give the snow anywhere to go but down to its gut, there is a large potential for graupel to collect at the bottom. My buddy's suggestion was to straight-line the last 4 or so turns of the chute and head onto the apron with a ton of speed. Again, in an example of good advice for surviving both Hitchcock movies and backcountry chutes, don't slow down until you've looked behind to see if anything is coming after you. The apron itself mellows out to 30ish degrees and is perfect for big the big, fast powder slashes dreams are made of.
It's mainly downhill or flat to get back to the ski area, but since you’re already there, its worth it to toss the skins back on and check out the two other smaller chutes in the cirque. If you choose to avoid the other chutes, it's a 10 min ski/hike back to Brighton.
There are a lifetime’s worth of options in this area, and with a safe walk to get back to the top of Mt. Tuscarora or Wolverine, you can always link some great tours together. The next time I ski the Seagull, I'll climb Millicent and ski off the backside where gorgeous steep glades await, adding only a few hundred vertical feet of skinning.
SLC and the surrounding peaks are unique in their grandeur and ease of access. I know that I will be back, sooner and later, and that the Seagull will be perched, waiting for me.