Dan and I arrived at the Central Summit area at about 8:45pm intent to get to Surveyors Lake, the intended destination of the trip I got hurt on. It was 27F, but felt warmer somehow. With Tokul on leash and snowshoes hanging from my poles like a hobo's bag we walked from the parking lot/skating rink to the Powder Pig house. (I don't really know what it's called, but it's got a pig on the outside so I figure it's a good guess.)

The snow was well packed, but pretty quickly we started postholing and decided it was time to slip on the snowshoes. We made pretty good time heading up under the Silver Fir chairlifts until we arrived at the base of a monster hill. It was probably 500 or so feet high and at a 45 degree angle. In other words, every time I took a step forward I was also taking an equal step up.

All thoughout this I was very conscious of my weak ankle. So far so good. (I can hear you worrying already.)

We contemplated swinging around to the east to find the route I had done with Les, but as we stood there marvelling at the idiocy that would lead a couple of guys and a dog to climb the slope we chose to go straight up.

Up up up. The slope was relentless and just kept climbing. It even threw in a false summit or two for fun. True evil. At least the snow was fairly firm. I can only imagine it would be impassable if there was nothing but powder. After much huffing and puffing we finally reached the top. It had only been a half hour from the base, which we felt was pretty darn good for 1,000 feet of gain.

From the top of the lift we dropped a little to the Nordic trails and then started circling up the knob between Divide and Surveyors Lakes. The sky was crystal clear with a bright moon so we were able to see Divide Lake (a smooth white expanse in the trees), but we didn't feel like losing any elevation to see it.

Although we originally thought we had to climb one last hill to find Surveyors Lake we stumbled on a packed snowshoe trail and followed it. As we broke out of the trees we saw the frozen lake ahead of us. The trail continued around the west side of the lake, but we chose to consume special hot chocolate instead of following it into the darkness.

After the cocoa I prevailed upon Dan to trail me to the top of the hill. The snow alternated between powder and a thick-crusted nastiness. Tokul followed so closely behind me she got sprayed with the loose powder each time I took a step, but never cared enough to do anything about it.

As we cut back and forth in the trees I could see a faint line to follow over on one side, then a completely different line heading the other way. We were just trying to go up so I picked whichever line seemed best at that moment and broke trail for Tokul and Dan.

At the bottom of the last rise I could see a patch of dark that was darker than the snow, but lighter than the trees. Surely, this must be it. In fact, it was, but it was completely underwhelming. I had hoped for a view all around, but it was a treed summit rather than open. At least I can check it off the list.

We spent a few short moments on top of this little section of the world. Tokul lay down in the snow and looked perfectly content to sit their for far longer. We, however, got cold and turned to head back. Finding the way back in deep snow is pretty easy. Just look for the tracks you made on the way out. When we could see the trail to the lake we shorted our route and headed out of the woods.

Back on the Nordic trail I headed up to the high point we had visited on previous trips. Earlier in the seasons we were standing among litle trees on this mini summit. With all the snow that had been dumped at Snoqualmie this year we found ourselves standing above all but the few largest trees. Thankfully, none of the large trees were in the way for the mandatory photo panorama attempt. The views were great in spite of the flickering lights on the freeway. We came down a less-used route that was clearly made by a snowshoer, though clearly not by one with a weak left ankle. The final section was very steep so we took it slowly.

In no time we at the Silver Fir chairlift contemplating how we would get down. I thought that if I could possibly be in more trouble than inurying my ankle while snowshoeing it would be as a result of hurting it again in exactly the same way. As a result, I made special efforts to keep the ankle on the least-weight-bearing side of the hill as we switchbacked back and forth across the black diamond route and fought the urge to slide.

I did, however, lose control and enter into a slide. I had my ice axe out and used it to slow me a little, but in seemingly no time I managed to get all twisted up while hurtling down the hill. I kept my left ankle locked and tried to brake with my right while trying to extricate the ice axe from the tangle of snow pants and trekking poles. I came to rest near the bottom of the slope in a cloud of powder. Tokul wandered over to see what the heck I was doing, but then returned to Dan's side where she probably felt safer and less embarrassed to know me.

As we were nearing the end of the return trip a groomer passed in front of us. He turned on his spotlight and lit us up. I waved. Almost without doubt he was wondering what the heck a couple of guys and a dog were doing walking down the mountain at 11:30pm, but he had places to go the same as us so his diesel fumes were all that were left as he disappeared into the trees.

The final crunch back to the car was uneventful. Since leaving the base area it had dropped another three degrees, but still only felt refreshing. Tokul was asleep even before the door shut.

The trip was only 3.6 miles long, but we gained 1,300 feet in half that distance. Of that the first 1,000 feet is straight up the Silver Fir run and brutal beyond belief. Still, it's a lot quicker to access the back country by this direct route than the easier, longer route from Hyak so it's the recommended way to get to Surveyors Lake.