How to Scout a Ski Route as a Solo Adventure Photographer
How to Scout a Ski Route as a Solo Adventure Photographer
Why Scouting Matters More When You Are Alone
When you are working with a team, mistakes in route finding get caught faster. Someone else notices the wrong trail, or a guide steers the group back on track before too much time is lost. Working alone on Mount Lassen and Mount Shasta during my seven day solo project, I did not have that safety net. Every route decision was mine, and every mistake cost me time and energy I could not easily get back.
Scouting became one of the most important parts of my process, not just for safety but for the actual photography. Knowing where a route goes ahead of time lets you think about light, camera placement, and timing instead of scrambling to figure out basic navigation while also trying to get a usable shot. On a solo project, that planning time is not optional. It is the difference between coming home with something good and coming home exhausted with nothing to show for it.
I learned this lesson in different ways on both mountains. On Lassen, I used binoculars from a distance the day before my ski attempt to get a rough sense of the terrain. On Shasta, I learned the hard way what happens when you do not fully understand a route before committing to it.
Scouting is also not just a safety exercise. It shapes what kind of photographer or filmmaker you can be on a given day. If you spend all your energy figuring out where to go, you have less energy left for actually composing a shot or reacting to good light when it shows up. Every hour I spent scouting ahead of time was an hour I got back later in the form of a calmer, more deliberate shoot.
Using Binoculars and Distance Scouting on Mount Lassen
Before I ever skinned up toward Mount Lassen, I spent time simply looking at the mountain from a distance with binoculars. This sounds basic, but it gave me real information I could not have gotten any other way without wasting a full day of energy walking terrain that might not have worked for skiing or shooting at all.
From a distance, I could see general snow coverage, rough line options, and where the terrain looked steep enough to be interesting without being unreasonable for a solo skier working alone. I also used that time to think about where the light would likely hit later in the day, since I knew I would be shooting as well as skiing once I committed to a line.
This kind of scouting is slow and unglamorous. It does not produce a single usable photo. But it saved me real time once I was actually on the mountain, because I was not guessing about basic terrain features while also trying to manage a camera setup and my own safety on snow that can change condition by the hour.
I also used that scouting time to think through my own limits for the day, not just the terrain itself. Snow travel is physical, and a solo skier has to be honest about how much energy a route will actually take before committing to it. Binoculars cannot tell you everything, but they can rule out the routes that are clearly too far or too steep for what a single day realistically allows.
The Mistake I Made on Mount Shasta
Scouting is not just about looking at a mountain from far away. It is also about understanding the actual routes on the ground, and this is where I made a mistake heading up to Horse Camp on Mount Shasta. I had been told a ski route would be faster than the standard hiking trail, so I brought my skis expecting to skin up efficiently.
Instead, I ended up hiking more than three miles on a hiking trail while carrying my skis instead of actually using them, because I had not scouted the route closely enough beforehand to know exactly where the ski route split off. It cost me real time and energy on a day when I still had a full camp setup ahead of me. Once I realized the mistake, I corrected course, but the lesson stuck with me for the rest of the trip.
Later, when I had to go back down for a second load of gear, tripod, camera kit, and brand products I had left behind on the first trip up, I used the actual ski route instead, and it was noticeably faster. That contrast between the two trips up the same mountain taught me more about the value of real route knowledge than any amount of reading or planning from home ever could have.
What made the mistake sting a little more was knowing it was avoidable. I had been told the ski route existed and that it would save time, but I did not push hard enough beforehand to understand exactly where it started and where it split from the standard hiking trail. A few more minutes of asking better questions before I ever left the trailhead would have saved me hours of extra effort later that same day.
How I Scout Differently Now
After that mistake on Shasta, I changed how I approach scouting on any solo trip. I try to get more specific information about route splits and terrain features before I commit to carrying gear up a mountain, rather than relying on a general description from someone else. A route that sounds simple in conversation can be confusing in person, especially in changing snow conditions.
I also try to build in extra time for the unexpected. Even with good scouting, solo travel in the mountains rarely goes exactly as planned. Weather shifts, snow conditions change, and sometimes a route that looked clear from a distance turns out to be something different once you are standing on it. Giving myself margin for those surprises has made a real difference in how much stress I carry into a shoot day.
None of this makes solo scouting foolproof. I still made mistakes on this trip, and I will likely make more on future ones. But treating scouting as a real part of the job, not just an afterthought before the fun part starts, has changed how prepared I feel walking into unfamiliar terrain by myself.
What This Means for Other Solo Photographers
If you are planning to shoot or ski solo in the mountains, do not skip the scouting step just because it feels slow or unnecessary. Use whatever tools you have, binoculars, maps, conversations with people who know the terrain, and build in time to actually confirm route information rather than assuming it is correct. The cost of being wrong is higher when you are alone, both in terms of safety and in terms of the energy you have left for the actual creative work.
Scouting will never remove all the risk or all the mistakes from a solo project. My trip through Lassen and Shasta proved that clearly enough. But it gives you a real chance to make better decisions in the moment, which matters most when there is nobody else there to catch the mistake for you.
Looking back at both mountains together, the biggest shift for me was learning to treat scouting as part of the actual work, not a chore that happens before the real trip starts. The photography and the safety of a solo project both depend on the same thing, understanding the ground you are about to move through before you commit your body and your gear to it. That lesson from Lassen and Shasta has stuck with me on every trip since.
Dalton Johnson is a commercial photographer and director of photography based in South Lake Tahoe, California. Over the last decade he has worked with brands including Patagonia, GoPro, Arc'teryx, Four Seasons, Nike, Rivian, and Big Agnes across all seven continents. He documents adventure, travel, and the outdoors through photography, film, and writing. Follow along at dalton-johnson.com.