A Detailed Guide for Skiing Mount Sneffels’ Snake Couloir

Yankee Boy Basin offers a plethora of couloirs, steep faces, and massive bowls.

If you're a fanatic about backcountry skiing in the San Juans (or anywhere for that matter), Yankee Boy Basin is well worth your time. Located roughly 5 miles east from Ouray, the mecca of human-powered San Juan skiing holds enough terrain to justify multi-day camping trips every spring. While you can access many classic descents via the basin, the most iconic is undoubtedly skiing the Snake Couloir on Mount Sneffels.

To ski the Snake Couloir, you must descend roughly 600 feet northwest from the 14,157-foot summit of Mount Sneffels before "dog-legging" northeast and steepening into a narrow choke. Shortly after the choke, the couloir opens into a wide apron that leads further into a massive basin - resulting in up to 3000 vertical feet of skiing if you choose to descend to Wilson Creek. Accessing the snake couloir requires a long approach, a 30-foot pitch of class 4 scrambling in ski/board boots and a mandatory 100-foot rappel.

Here's our map, stats, and profile from our tour.

Below is our gear list, beta, and a detailed trip report.

Ski mountaineering is an inherently dangerous activity. Individuals who choose to participate in this sport are exposed to various hazards beyond their control that may result in death. This post is designed to tell a story and provide as much information as possible to educate readers. Adequate preparation, conditioning, and education are essential to engage in this activity safely. Hire a guide if you wish to embark on this adventurer and are unsure of your capabilities.

Origin Expeditions is not responsible for what any individual(s) might choose to do with this information.

Two slings around large rocks on the southwest side of the summit, backed up by 1” tubular webbing we brought. There is a taped carabiner attached to the cords.

Gear

skis, boots, skins, pole, and whippet (wasn’t necessary)
beacon, shovel, probe
crampons, ice ax
30L ski pack
70m 9.8mm rope. 60m would work but require some steep down-climbing in snow. I recommend two 35m, 6-7mm ropes if you’ve got them - the 70m was heavy.
alpine harness
2 locking carabiners
rappel device
rappel extension webbing
1m cordelette for prussik
7m of 1” webbing for anchor backup
2 pairs of gloves
1.5 liters of water
headlamp
smartphone with maps downloaded on GAIA GPS
sunscreen

Beta

Rappel Anchor:

There is an anchor on the southwest side of the summit (towards Telluride). The anchor consisted of two 6mm cordelettes and a taped-up carabiner slung around a group of boulders. I backed it up with my webbing for Evan's rappel and then removed it for my descent as the cords seemed solid. Because this anchor is located about 10 feet from the edge, I highly recommend a 70m rope. Rumor has it that there are fixed bolts on the summit, but I could not find any.

Trailhead:

Contact Ouray Mountain Sports or Ouray Public Works Department for information about country road 361. You can access the road from US Highway 550, just south of Ouray after the first switchback. 2 years ago, we were able to park nearly a mile west from Camp Bird on the last week of April. On May 1st, they begin plowing from Camp Bird to the pit toilet just north of Stoney Mountain (it was clear by May 4th in 2017). This year, the road was closed over a mile east of Camp Bird, resulting in a considerably longer tour.

Bathrooms and water:

In 2017 the pit toilets in the basin were unlocked (even before they plowed the road). In 2019 they were not; I'm guessing 2017 was a fluke. If you're planning on camping at the trailhead, be sure to bring what you need to dispose of waste. You can harvest water from a couple of different locations on the approach. As Yankee Boy sees plenty of traffic, I recommend water purification. I had exhausted 1.5 liters of water by the time we had ascended back to the base of Lavender Couloir - bring more if you think you'll need it.

Exit:

While there's always the option to ski another thousand feet into Blaine Basin, the fastest way out is to trend skiers right out of the couloir to a band of cliffs (see the picture below). Depending on how much snow there is, you can descend through the cliffs. Otherwise, ski around the cliff band and traverse skiers right, maintaining as much elevation as you can. You then must ascend 1000 feet back to the saddle at the base of Lavender Couloir. We were both exhausted by the time we were making this ascent. Depending on the time of year, you might be able to shuttle a car and follow Wilson Creek out.

A view of Sneffels’ north face. Conditions permitting, follow the red line to save yourself some vert for the traverse. Alternatively, descend skiers left around the cliffs and traverse high above the lower group of turns in the photograph.

Mount Sneffels and the Snake Couloir Trip Report

I woke in my car at 4 am, which I had parked about a half-mile from the road closure. I immediately turned my car on and blasted heat into my ski boots, which I had positioned beneath the front passenger vents the night before. I saw the light in Evan's car turn on as I simultaneously dressed, ate and hydrated. Once ready, we both drove our cars to the parking area closer to the closure.

Another group of four gearing up at the trailhead was also headed for the Snake Couloir. Feeling pretty cold and eager to get ahead of them, I decided to start hiking as Evan made some final preparations. I carried my skis over my shoulder as the first half mile past the closure was a dirt road. After I had passed a section of road identified by an overhang of rock and ice, I was able to put on my skins for the remainder of the approach.

I passed Camp Bird and enjoyed watching first light on Stoney Mountain. Not long after, I rounded a corner and Sneffels popped into view. You'll pass a bridge on the left that leads to the Wheel of Fortune Mine. A quarter-mile after this point, you can continue to follow the road, or if you're feeling confident, stay high and shoot through the trees to save some time. Meet the road again and follow it west to the pit toilet.

As I reached the pit toilet, I was able to see a party of four ascending the slope to my right; I assumed to ski Teakettle Mountain. I also noticed a group of three further ahead headed towards Sneffels. These parties had pitched tents by the toilet just as we had in 2017 - I guess it's no secret that this is a prime spot to base camp for Yankee Boy Basin ski missions.

The route continued to the looker's right of a large hill and past an almost entirely buried sign that marks the summer trailhead for Mount Sneffels. Less than a half-mile further, we arrived at the base of Sneffels's south apron. At this point, we had completed roughly 6 miles and 3,600 vertical feet of elevation gain.

Gazing west in Yankee Boy Basin. Kismet Peak to the right blocks Mount Sneffels from view.

Fortunately, the snow was soft enough for us to skin to the lower saddle. Upon reaching the top, a relentless 40 mile per hour wind and blowing snow kindly greeted us. I took advantage of a rock formation to shield myself from the wind and throw my harness on preemptively. The saddle provides a view of the next 600 feet we'd ascend - the long, steep slog that is Lavender Couloir.

Two years ago, our party boot-packed the couloir, a cold, waist-deep hell. This time around, we elected to keep our skins during our entire ascent. Even with plenty of tricky kick-turns, this ended up being a considerably less miserable way to the top. Upon reaching the upper saddle, I slapped on my crampons and grabbed my ice ax to prepare for what I consider to be the route's crux.

The “Birthday Chutes” descend Sneffels’s southeast face. The party ahead is seen skinning to the lower saddle where the Lavender Couloir begins.

A view of the Lavender Couloir from the upper saddle looking towards the lower saddle.

The 30-foot scramble from the upper saddle.

On the south side of the upper saddle looms a 30-foot scramble to the summit ridge. Many online resources suggest that this bit of scrambling is class 3, a sandbagged rating, in my opinion. Though it may not appear steep in the picture below, a fall here would drop you onto jagged rocks before a plummet down the Lavender Couloir. Many of the rocks are loose - do not blindly trust any hold. While this portion would be doable without crampons, I was happy to have mine. The adze of my ice ax was invaluable for chopping away at the snow, which was primarily faceted and useless for kicking steps. You’ll also be doing this portion in your ski/board boots with the rest of your equipment on your backpack banging into the rocks above you.

Be prepared for class 4 scrambling.

The party ahead chose to forgo this portion of the ascent by skinning climbers left out of the couloir about two-thirds the way up. While also a viable option, this route spares you no exposure to a high-consequence tumble down the southeast face of the mountain. Judging from the appearance of their tracks, the snow on this variation was probably pretty firm.

I made my way to the top of the scramble while Evan stood clear of falling ice and choss. Once I gained the ridge, I proceeded along the mildly exposed traverse above the Birthday Chutes, minding the cornice to my right. Happy to have my crampons here, I elected to navigate above a rock outcropping that was the last tricky obstacle before the final steps to the summit.

A view of the summit looking west from the top of the scramble.

Upon reaching the summit, I noticed that the group ahead of us had descended the south face of Sneffels into the Birthday Chutes. Gazing down the summit's north side, I was excited to see no tracks in the Snake Couloir. As Evan made his way to the top, I deployed my shovel and began digging in search of a bolted anchor. After several minutes of no success, I removed the rope and webbing from my pack and rigged them to the existing anchor on the southwest side of the summit (approximately 10 feet from the top of the rappel).

Eager to get out of the wind, we spent little time at the summit. Evan rigged himself into the system and proceeded first down the 100-foot rappel. Once clear, I collected my webbing and followed suit. We pulled the rope and quickly transitioned to ski. Along with most of the climbing and the rappel behind us, gazing down the undisturbed and tremendously aesthetic Snake Couloir inspired plenty of excitement in both of us.

The 100-foot rappel could be done with a 60m rope, but you’ll have a bit of steep down climbing to do.

My lucky day - I go first!

I made two ski cuts before dropping into the skier’s right side of the couloir. Powder! After several dozen thigh-burning turns, I posted up behind the rock island where the route dog-legs northeast and waited for Evan to join me. Here the route steepens to what I estimate is at least 50 degrees and proceeds into a narrow choke. I took my time, minding any buried rocks and sluff I knocked loose as I moved through this section of the route. The apron beneath is broad, and buried rocks were minimal. If I were to ski it again, I think a straight shot would be reasonable through the choke into a left turn.

Once through the choke, I cut left into the softer, sun-exposed snow. I relished as I cruised through powder of brag-worthy quality for another thousand feet before pausing to wait for Evan. We proceeded skiers right in search of a route along which we could traverse to along the base of Sneffels’s north face. Looking down into Blaine Basin, Evan and I couldn’t help but agree - there was more skiing to enjoy. Neglecting the opportunity to save ourselves some misery, we enjoyed another thousand feet of skiing into the bowl below.

Evan gazing back at the route. We totaled 3000 vertical feet of skiing from the top of the couloir to this point.

Celebration ensued before a rapid transition. We were eight hours into our day and still far from the end on account of our decision not to traverse. We were feeling the burn right away as we began skinning back towards Sneffels. Making our way looker’s left, we eventually arrived at the base of the slope that would return us to the lower saddle.

We were feeling pretty exhausted by the time we started our switchbacks towards the lower saddle. As we alternated breaking trail, I found myself counting out 40 steps between minute-long breaks to manage my exhaustion. It took 3 hours total for us to return to the saddle from where we transitioned below. We proceeded down wind-affected crud on the south apron from the top of the saddle and traversed left and high through Yankee Boy Basin back to the pit toilets.

The route to the lower saddle is to the right, behind the ridge just beyond Evan.

I reached the Wheel of Fortune Mine from the pit toilets without putting my skins on by staying high and skier's left. The remainder of the route to our cars was a mix of hiking over dirt and taking advantage of long sections of snow alongside the road to ski.

In conclusion, the route totaled 15.5 miles and 7,168 vertical feet over 13 hours and 50 minutes. Here's a short video of footage I gathered along the way.

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