Soloing the *Other* NE Couloir of Lone Peak

Soloing the *Other* NE Couloir of Lone Peak

The NE Couloir of Lone Peak is the ultimate 'hardcore' ski mountaineering challenge in the Central Wasatch—an epic line that stands toe-to-toe with some of the most legendary ski descents in the entire continental U.S. It's a coveted 'white whale' for skiers, whispered about in the community but skied by only a few brave souls each year. The approach is grueling, the conditions have to be flawless, and the line itself carries an aura of intimidation that keeps all but the boldest at bay. This is a descent that feels like it belongs in the Alps, not the Wasatch. The couloir plunges nearly 2,000 feet from just below the summit, weaving its way down into Bells Canyon. The upper reaches push up to a heart-stopping 50-degree slope, before mellowing slightly to a sustained 45-degree pitch. But just when you think it can’t get any more gnarly, a massive cliff greets you at the bottom—reminding you that falling here is simply not an option. Lone Peak lives up to its fearsome reputation—intense, awe-inspiring, and downright intimidating, especially from the floor of Bells Canyon, gazing up at its jagged East Face.

There are several ways to approach the winter or spring ascent of Lone Peak, each with its own set of thrills and challenges. The easiest and safest route starts from the South side, near the peaceful town of Alpine, where you can climb the gentle 30-35 degree slope known as ‘Heavens Halfpipe.’ From the ridge, it's a straightforward skin or boot along the crest to the base of the couloir. Another option is to approach through Big Willow Cirque. From Bells Canyon, there are a few routes: one involves skinning up to the South Thunder and Lone Peak ridge, just above Lake Hardy, and then hiking along the ridge to the summit; another is the more adventurous route through Bells Canyon, booting directly up the NE Couloir. There are also several narrow couloirs that can take you to the summit ridge of Lone Peak. Somehow, I found myself climbing the couloir to the left of the main NE Couloir, adding an unexpected twist to the ascent. 

I set out early, around 3:30 AM, from the Bells Canyon Trailhead. At around 5,000 feet, Bells Canyon is relatively low compared to the summit of Lone Peak, which rises to 11,200 feet. It took me less than an hour to reach the lower falls trail, and as I gained elevation, the snow depth steadily increased. After about 20 minutes, I left the buried stream behind and headed toward the Coalpit Headwall. The snow began to harden into ice, prompting me to switch to crampons. I passed through avalanche-prone areas, navigating 35-40 degree slopes littered with debris. Once I emerged from that zone, the striking Northeast face of Lone Peak came into view. The terrain became easier to navigate as I approached the base of the couloir.

However, directly beneath the chute, it was tough to assess how to enter the couloir. Exposed rock bands and hard blue ice covered the area, making the climb up to the main NE Couloir impossible for me—my gear wasn't suited for anything beyond 4th class scrambling and steep snow. After searching for an alternative, I found a sneaky line on the left side of the couloir. My initial plan had been to traverse north into the main couloir, but as I climbed up this secondary NE chute, I realized the route to safely traverse was too thin. With limited options, I decided to continue up this alternate line instead.

The climb started off incredibly steep and exposed. The snow was deep and powdery, with a firm, icy layer beneath. I kept my crampons on and pressed onward, making steady progress up the chute until I reached the halfway point. Based on my observations, the snow was bonding well, with no signs of instability. I was relieved to see the conditions lining up perfectly with my expectations. The final push to the summit ridge took longer than I anticipated, taking a total of 2.5 hours to climb the couloir. In some sections, the slope felt so steep it almost seemed vertical, and I found myself wishing for a second ice axe. Despite the physical challenge, the climb felt meditative. As I neared the ridge, I spotted some climbers who had ascended via the ‘Heavens Halfpipe’ route. I was the only one that day climbing the NE Couloir. After chatting with a group at the top and sharing a snow conditions report, one group seemed keen on skiing down the route I'd just climbed. I snapped a few photos before making my way down, retracing other groups' steps along the ‘Heavens Halfpipe’ route toward the town of Alpine. It was an unforgettable day, and I’d never seen so many people on Lone Peak—there was a steady stream of skiers heading up the ‘Heavens Halfpipe’ route.