My partner and I had only just started up the meat of the couloir, barely past the second small set of rocks when a small wet, loose flow ran down the center. We were ascending the climbers left and were able to stay out of the way of this small slide. Not sure if that came out naturally, or if there were skiers above us ( there was a boot pack already set, and recent-looking ski tracks) we hunkered down for a minute and discussed our next moves. I moved up another 15 vertical feet to try to get a better perspective with my partner a little below me. Right after he got to me, we saw a very small point release come off the rocks above us and to the climbers right. Putting two and two together we decided to bail quickly. I stayed put for a minute, as I was in one of the little alcove nooks in the rocks in a fairly safe spot while my partner started to down climb. When he got to a spot that limited his exposure, I started to down climb, too. I moved down quickly to the next alcove and paused to check on my partner, still below me. The rumbling from above made me turn back uphill. I looked up and saw that something quite large had released above us to the climbers right and was now emptying into the couloir directly above us. I looked down while shouting to my partner, who was out of sight around a corner, and latched onto the granite in front of me. A fat sidepull lip with my right and a fingers crack with my left. I was out of the gut of the couloir, hidden behind rocks and holding on tight... ... With my skis on my pack sticking halfway up from behind the rocks. I was sheltered from the flow, but it managed to grab my skis with enough force that I was peeled out of my nook like the rocks were not even there. Tumble, tumble, tumble, fight, fight, fight. Sunlight and stillness. Clawed for that open space over there. When everything stopped, I was sitting on top in the fan in the runout. While doing the mental " head, shoulders, knees and toes" check, I realize that both my skis and both my poles are within 30 feet of me, on top of the snow. What are the odds of that? Yell for my partner and switch my beacon the search while scrambling off to the side. He yells back, as I see him at a dead run down the couloir. Quick beacon sweep of the debris, just to make sure. Everyone was ok. The flow went right by my partner. I have a scratch on my knuckle and lost my favorite belt buckle. I really liked that buckle. What I think happened was the new snow + warming temps on the thin snowpack on the rocky, scrubby area to our right failed naturally. From the parking lot afterward, there is a small, but obvious, path kinda fall line below the Y-not that looked to be the guilty party. A roller ball off a rock could have started the whole thing. While still in the parking lot, I witnessed two other naturals in the same zone. In hindsight, we placed too much faith in the aspect to keep temps cool. We bailed when the signs were big, flashing and neon, but we should have gone else where. I made a mistake and got lucky. Things could have been much worse.