Monday, August 29, 2011

Coming up for Air /// Part III


Over the past years I have discovered that striving for your dreams will only take you so far. It is only when you find passion and joy in that pursuit that things somehow fall into place.

When Anthony B called me asking if I wanted to go skiing I said ‘Yes’. When he asked me if I wanted to go skiing in his favorite old sled zone I said ‘Hell Yeah’. When he asked whether or not it would be cool if there were no longer sleds allowed and touring was the only access, thus making us the only people there I said ‘Let’s F’ing do it!’. When he asked if I wanted to do it all with Nimbus Independent, Julien Regnier, and for an article in one of my favorite ski magazines, well, I didn’t say anything for a moment, but my heart definitely skipped a beat or two.

One week later, and with 120 pounds of gear each, for our spines, legs, hips, and necks to labor over, our crew began a 20 kilometer tour into one of the few unfrequented areas around Whistler. Our goal, to ski some of the massive pillows that existed there while camped in a snow paradise for 10 days. And while it’s always nice to have a plan in mind, it’s often not the one Mother Nature opts for.

Julien still smiling at 14k into the tour
P// Self

While usually the issue in these situations stems from not enough snow, high freezing levels, or rain, we had a problem of a very different variety. Relentless precipitation that served to turn the landscape into one of the wildest paces I have ever seen. We were met with forty to sixty centimeters of snow everyday, for six days straight to be exact. The result was plenty of snow precariously perched and piled up to twenty feet above the cliffs upon which they rested. Bottomless enough to make forward momentum impossible except on the steepest of slopes, or sheer drops. While this may seem like a wet dream for anyone who makes the pursuit of snow they’re life, a better analogy would be to a drug overdose with no clinic for one hundred miles in any direction. Tents would cave, cook shelters collapse, absolutely nothing would dry, and without constant late night shoveling of the tent, asphyxiation became a very real issue.

One of the many, many, many pillow zones to be had

P// Self

But when the goods of all goods are only one hundred feet from your camp, it’s hard not to at least go out for a spin everyday. All too quickly the world became a wash of snow, below, overhead, in your face, and completely surrounding. The next few days were some of the deepest skiing I’ve ever encountered and with skiers who I’ve looked up to for as long as I can remember to boot. Eventually the call to leave was made on Day 6 as we’d just discovered a new zone of pillow madness. Not because of conditions, or group attitude, but because all the camera equipment had simply stopped working. Long days in the relentless snow had melded with cold nights in the tent to produce overly fogged lenses, frozen mechanical parts, and batteries that would respond to nothing short of a holistic resurrection. So leave we did, but stop we did not as we ventured to the Duffy Pass north of Whistler for the next four days where more pillows were discovered and dealt with accordingly. When it was all said and done, everyone was equal parts stoked, exhausted, and pleased with the results, perhaps a pinch of sore to toss in for good measure. Look forward to the Nimbus episode coming out this September, can’t wait to share the fun, and especially can’t wait to make it back to that magical place.

The rest of the season came sweeping forward as the snow scales once again fell in favor of Utah and I made my fifth trip back home for the season. Eighteen hours of driving, along with way too many cheesy puffs, and I found myself on the tails of a massive storm that had just left Utah and left spring sunshine in its wake.

Twin Peaks at Sunrise en route to an epic day at Wolverine

P// Self

Met up with Carston Oliver and company to shoot hits and lines that would usually scare the piss out of me, but having a good friend on the same level makes everything almost unreasonably comfortable.

Spines do exist in Utah despite popular belief
P// Carston Oliver

Spring pow and hometown homies, nothing better
P// Mike Schneider

“You’re gonna do that too aren’t you?” Cody Barnhill to me after Carston had just tossed a Cork 3 over a thirty-five foot cliff and into a less vertically inclined landing.

“Yup”

“Might make for a better photo if you just straight aired,” piped in Keith over the radio.

“Not gonna happen.”

Carston setting the pace for the day in Utah

F// Self

Final touches on an oversized booter while the sun plays hide and seek
P// Self

That pretty much sums up Carston and I when we go skiing. Unreasonably similar and irresponsible at the same time.

From those days it was back to Whis one final time, where I ‘d plan to transition back into spring shredding and park riding until June as things heated back up. But sure enough I was met with an email when I got home, asking if I wanted to go ski some powder this summer, and if I could speak Spanish. With all questions like this it’s best not to let you brain muddle up the situation with unruly things like logic, reason, responsibility, and financial constraints.

Chili anyone?

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Coming up for Air /// Part II


And inhale. Before you know what hit you’ll realize you’ve been trying to breathe, eat, and drink, nothing but snow for too many days to recall. Your body aches, fat reserves have been depleted, eating patterns digressed into something resembling that of a 5 year old sugar fiend, who’s only drive to eat arrives when there’s no more light to play. And while the smile remains, like any, and I do mean any, junkie on that glorious white stuff will tell you, the need for rest is all too real.

Taking it all in, and taking a quick breath

P// Adam Clark

The mid-season marker has grown to be something that has everything to do with skiing, and at the same time nothing at all. Located in the heart of downtown Denver, under the glow of fluorescent lights, pitter patter of notebook carrying entrepreneurs, and false smiles a used car salesman would be proud of, you’ll find SIA, the snow sports tradeshow for North America.

Hanging with the Surface boys of the US and Japanese variety at SIA
P// Mike Schneider

I could write ad infinium about the ups and down, rights and wrongs, and hilarious times that SIA has to offer. But instead, I’ll just leave it to the professionals with a little insight from the boys over at BroBomb.

Coming back to the real world of skiing, I found myself more excited and refreshed than a 10 year old at a water park. But all too quickly dreams to ride on the backs of snow cats, wings of helicopters, and all to the soundtrack of a two stroke engine slowly disparate just as fast as they came. One trip falls apart due to weather, another due to poor planning, and eventually entire companies can fall apart around you. The only thing that is certain is uncertainty here. But there are a few things you can always rely on more often then others. One being that you’ve still got two legs and a world of possibilities to let them run wild in.

So what to do? Run north and jet around Canada for a month with your best friends, stoking out, and freaking out people and places of all shapes and sizes. The medium for all this nonsense you ask? The Surface Canada Tour Part Deux of course. For five weeks binding screws were turned, free gear was tossed, plenty of new friends were made, and moustaches grew in alarmingly sketchy styles.

Underage, and under-rated. These Revelstoke young bucks are killing it!
P// Scott Titterington

Surface Tour Revelstoke Edition

F&E// Shayne Metos and Scott Titterington

Intermingling that with trips back to BC where some of the biggest storms began to pound the coast, and you’ve got a season in full swing once again. The calendar serves only to take up space on the wall, as responsibility once again falls to the wayside under the boot soles of amazing new zones, even better friends to ride them with.

Coupled all that up with a run back to Utah to compete in the Utah Shootout, a seven day photo competition in my home hills. To make things even better, Andrew Strain, and Jake Cohn from our Deep Winter team had shown up to compete. Icing on the cake came as the draft format of choosing teams commenced and luckily nobody knew who the hell we were so Strain was able to snatch both of us up, and reform Team Steamtrain for a round two.

Getting creative with STEAMTRAIN during the Shootout in the Alta backcountry
P// Andrew Strain

Over the next seven days later we had more fun, more dawn patrols, face shots, wild nights, classy appetizers, shots of crown, and amazing times than I could have imagined. The Kicker? We got awarded with 2nd place, and one thing I have to say on this subject is that absolutely nothing can top going out in something like this and killing it with you best friends. Then you hear it's snowing back in BC, so what do you do? Hit the road running. Well driving, running that far would be mildly ridiculous.

Back to pillow dreamland, Whistler, BC
P// Adam Clark

Whistler pillows at their best

F&E// Self

Then just when it feels as though things can’t get any better, and your standing on top of 1000 feet of untracked pillow lines, your phone rings. (Ring) Your with everyone you want to be with so who could it be? (riiing) Why is this damn thing on anyways? (riiing) Nothing could be as important as this here right now. (riiiing). While usually you would never pick up in this situation, you do, and to say you are glad you did becomes the understatement of the century.

(Riii-) “Hello Please?

(Continued in Part 3)