Springtime, and hot pow

You'd think that after 23 years or something of skiing, that I'd get used to how quickly winter flies by, but once again, here it is almost the end of April and I'm totally shocked that winter is probably already over! (I say probably because you never know what the weather will do these days, especially because it seems like winter is just picking up momentum here in Tahoe! Also, I'm trying to use reverse-psychology on Ullr--if we act like winter is over, then maybe we'll be pleasantly surprised with another two feet?!)

It definitely was winter still up in Alaska, where I spent the past week--I got to go back with a different crew this time, Higher Ground Productions. They're working their butts off, making a documentary about big mountain skiing, and I can't wait to see the finished product. We flew into Anchorage, and then loaded up two of my favorite-named planes, a beaver and an otter, and flew about 40 minutes northwest of Anchorage, to a cabin on frozen Judd Lake in the Tordrillo Range. It's a new lodge, owned by Mike Overcast, Jeremy Nobis, and Tommy Moe, all of whom were there, and operated by Chugach Powder Guides. It was a totally sweet trip--we hung out in a beautiful log lodge, everyone there was great, and we even saw amazing, purple, red, and green Northern lights one night, shimmering all over the sky. Oh, and the skiing--the mountains there are huge. We skied four out of six days, which is a great percentage for Alaska. The avie danger was considerable, so we took it easy, especially because many of the runs you would normally drool over there are huge--if anything went wrong, it would be a big slide, not just slough. So we went for smaller runs with good snow, and then, one day, we skied Mount Spurr, an active volcano, from 11,000 feet. The ski itself was pretty mellow (Bill Dyer and Overcast navigated the upper, 'shrunded section roped up, and then we followed their tracks)--wind-scoured ice and rime up high and wind-packed drifts down below made for some nice turns, but the coolest part was hanging out up top. We could see Denali and Foraker to the north, the fumarole was constantly sending up sulphur smoke right next to us, and you could see the ocean to the southeast. Awesome! On down days, we would cruise around the lake on snowshoes with Baxter, the resident black lab and tireless outdoor fiend. And we watched Grizzly Man one day--have you seen that? It's very interesting--sad, too, but really fascinating, with incredible bear footage.

I had Easter dinner at Grandma Bunny's house, in Seattle, and now I'm back in Squaw. The last three days have been spring skiing to the max--hot and sunny, with hot pow, and corn in spots. There's been so much snow here that tons of lines are in right now that you normally can't even ski mid-winter--it's like a whole new realm of spring skiing, and it's blowing my mind! Heh. Hopefully the rain that started an hour ago will turn to snow tonight--because it's been such a great winter, I'm just not ready for it to end yet.

What on earth is going on?

What is up with this time of the year? I swear, more shit goes down around the first week of April amongst the mountain community--it's heartbreaking. Three years ago yesterday, MC Constantinescu, a beloved Tahoe ripper and all-around enjoyer of life and making others smile, passed away skiing Squaw. This year seems particularly hard, though, with Doug Coombs' and Chad Vanderham's unthinkable deaths in La Grave, and I just learned of another incredible skier who is in the hospital in Canada, who needs positive and healing thoughts sent his way.

I feel sad, melancholy, and helpless. I also feel lucky, and I feel guilty for feeling lucky. Having just returned from Haines, Alaska, filming for Matchstick, and seeing the two other skiers I was with both get hurt (one not so badly, he should be skiing in a week or two; the other more serious--a month, maybe--but still both are totally ok, considering), it has to make you wonder. For filming, this time of the year is crunch time--people are feeling the pressure to get things done, which might encourage more risk-taking, not to mention just as far as the season goes, most skiers are feeling pretty good by now and are ready to step it up. The weather's getting warmer, even if it's still dumping. I don't know. There are too many factors to consider, and most likely it's all coincidental. It's certainly no one's fault, and please excuse my rambling--it's just what I can't help but think about today.

Now back to a positive day and positive thoughts already in progress.....Haines is an incredible place, so much terrain, and I had a wonderful time there, of course except for when people got hurt. Squaw was skiing great today, if a bit crunchy in places underneath, but I got to make turns with my youngest brother which is always a pleasure.

Be careful out there.

Home, sore, and happy!

Whoa, am I sore! After a great last week or so in Norway and six days in Switzerland, I'm back home in Squaw Valley, and it's been an epic two days of skiing powder. My legs, however, can't keep up--the amount of skiing you can squeeze in while spinning laps on KT-22 is like nothing else in the world, and after being away from it for a month, I'm feeling the burn. Heh, heh. But I like the burn, so it's ok! As of my last update, we were waiting for snow and then good weather in Norway. Snow, we got, and then finally it broke blue. Considering the rain crust that we knew was out there, and the light, cold snow that came in, we weren't expecting much--we thought we would just see slides everywhere. We couldn't believe our first run, then, when we got actual powder turns and slough, not slabs. You could still feel the bottom in places, but nothing like we had expected. We made a few tentative runs, and then got a little more ambitious, picking a run that was steeper and slightly bigger. I dropped in to gorgeous, blower pow, thinking that it was too good to be true; sure enough, when I approached the lip of a planned air, my skis started skidding on the ice underneath. I made a turn around the air, and instantly accelerated on the ice. I managed to scrub speed on a patch of nice snow, then back onto the ice, flying out to my exit point and just barely holding it together. And that's kind of how it went for the next few days--just when you got your confidence up and were feeling good and thought you had found good snow, you hit the crappy stuff, and then I would go back to being tentative again. So it was a challenge, finding the combo of good snow, good light, good terrain, and (for me) the right mentality to charge it....but overally, I think we did a good job of making the most of some variable conditions. At any rate, we had beautiful weather, and at one point, the boys built a sick gap jump and had a sunset session that was super impressive to watch--we flew out as it was getting dark and I felt so lucky just to be there. The sunrises and sunsets last for so long in Norway--you get nearly two hours (it felt like, I could be exaggerating) of hazy, soft, light, and somehow it just renders the mountains and fjords that much more spectacular.
We loaded up the rental van and charged back to Oslo--everyone else left on the 6th, leaving me a day of sightseeing and wandering around the city and checking out all of the fashionable Norwegians, a really cool castle, and H&M, of course (hee, hee--ladies, you know what I'm talking about!). It was off to Zurich on the 8th, to meet up with Kim Reichelm, Chris Davenport, and Shane McConkey for an event in St. Moritz with Barclays Bank that I was lucky enough to be invited to. Basically, we freeskiers, plus ski legends Franz Klammer, Marc Girardelli, and Franz Weber were there to ski with Barclays employees and their clients--it was extremely fancy and well planned--from champagne at lunch to being serenaded by Three Baritones in between courses at dinner one night. What?! I mean, this is ME that gets to do this?! Whoa. Crazy. But there's nothing like being in Squaw when it's dumping, and I think they've received something like 12 feet in the past two weeks, and it's nuts here; and, it's supposed to snow again tonight. We're due in Haines, AK, with Matchstick as soon as conditions improve there--until then, I'll be working on pushing through the soreness, and I'll be just smiling, huge.