Head Space

One of the aspects of skiing that I enjoy most in my role as an instructor is that it is thrilling for people when they slide on skis for the very first time and that it remains thrilling even for we who have been skiing for a very long time or who ski for a living. It allows those of us who teach skiing to really understand and appreciate the excitement of those first few moments. That thrill is what separates skiing from other similarly social sports and is part of what makes it so appealing and so rewarding at the end of the day. We can share our ski experiences with others of different ability levels because this essential component is always present.

This past week I watched some of the finals of the Big Mountain portion of the 2008 Völkl NZ Freeski Open at Treble Cone. The competition was held in the Motatapu Chutes, a lift serviced area adjacent to the Saddle Basin which is accessible, conditions permitting, to anyone skiing at TC. It’s an enormous area of extreme terrain, some of which is outstanding terrain for people looking to try this type of skiing for the first time, and some of which is truly, exceptionally steep, narrow, and difficult. Skiing in this area has been one of the great joys of my experience here, and it’s always a welcome challenge. The photos here are of the Motatapu and of a competitor in the Open in order to put their scale in perspective.

For the Open competitors, among whom were a couple of friends of mine, the need to focus on what was necessary to not merely ski in the chutes safely but to compete in them successfully often is referred to as the need to be in the right “head space”. It’s a funny term but it is apt for the idea of the thrill that is present for all of us in skiing. Obviously, dropping cliffs on skis is dangerous business, requiring skill, confidence and, errr, spinal chord, working accurately and in harmony. The reality is, however, that the process of arriving in the right head space to ski at that level is really no different than the process of someone driving up the precarious road to Treble Cone, seeing snow for the first time, and then learning how to ski with us in the Snow Sports School.

Improvement as a skier necessarily brings with it an expansion of the type of terrain on which one is comfortable and able to enjoy skiing. Our head space changes its literal and figurative location, but the principle, how it makes us feel about the activity we’re doing, and how we feel afterwards, remains the same. It is what links the beginner’s Magic Carpet to the Motatapu Chutes and brings us all together in shared experience on the mountain.

Day Off? Day On!

Yesterday, Friday was my day off. It also was the best day of skiing at Treble Cone all season - epic by any standards. Even the old timers were giddy in the powder. Our wonderful mountain really reminded all of us just how great an experience skiing can be - me most particularly.

Yes, it was a great powder day. Yes, I skied all day on the terrain that justifiably gives TC it's reputation as a great and challenging mountain. Chutes, gullies, bowls, ridges, drops, rolls and awesome steeps all were covered in a blanket of a nearly a meter of dry, light powder. And the sun came out. And I made turns with good friends who appreciate skiing for real and substantive reasons. And my knee wasn't a factor. At all. I'm not as strong as I will be when the Northern Winter begins in November and I'm not quite yet where I'd like to be in my skiing. But, I hammered it all day nonetheless, "wrecking myself" in the way a long brutal bike ride does (a good thing). Having started the day in the lift line as it opened at 9:00, having gotten on the second chair in the Saddle Basin and having gotten many first tracks, I ended the day sitting quietly alone in the sunshine on the porch of the TC Cafe, totally exhausted, incredibly happy, and exceptionally grateful.

Fasten Your Seatbelts ...

So far this season, we've had a regular diet of smaller storms that have left Treble Cone with some pretty good conditions overall. This morning, for example, I skied in some wind-blown drifts of some very dry powder that was up to my knees in places but which amounted to only four or five inches overall. All of that should change tonight. Following a morning of blue skies and great conditions, a storm blew in very quickly in the afternoon, reducing visibility to next to nothing in the Saddle Basin. By the time I left the base area for home a little before five o'clock, the snow had already been hammering us for some time. Driving down from TC took an exceptionally long time on our road which is treacherous in even dry conditions.

All of this is relevant for a few reasons. First, the last time I skied in deep snow was the day last year when I blew out my knee. Second, I'm supposed to be on a day off tomorrow but will be skiing with a bunch of pretty good skiing journalists, ripping around the hill instead. Third, I have a pair of fat powder skis that I've never used but which sat right next to my bike on the trainer all winter at home as a motivator. Finally, fourth and most importantly, it's going to be a big powder day. Right now it's not clear how big, but it should be awesome. The storm is dropping snow on town as I write - a rarity - and is supposed to keep up until mid-morning. I hope to capture some good photos of the action tomorrow - I'm not too bashful to ask these journalists to take my picture skiing in uniform (they are journalists, after all). I intend to send a good powder shot to my surgeon, to my physical therapist, to my friends who are enjoying summer, to my friends who are not enjoying summer, and to anyone else who might or might not care.

State of the Art

Yesterday and today I enjoyed one of the privileges of being on the Snow School staff here at Treble Cone. I watched up close as Bode Miller, several men and women from the Austrian World Cup squad, and a number other world class athletes trained super G yesterday and this morning, I helped slip a slalom course where Bode was training. The photos and video I took and have posted here are the result.

As I noted in a recent post, some great ski racers ski in a way that we as instructors use as a model for recreational skiing, as is the case of the two Austrian women pictured here. Some great ski racers ski in a way that is different from and in many ways totally beyond the reach of the average skier. Bode is clearly one of those athletes, and he routinely does things on skis which defy convention and yet make him, at present, the best ski racer in the world. He simply can do things others cannot and having watched him ski a bit recently, the gap between Bode and others is instructive.

One thing to note as you watch the video of Bode training slalom below is that the hill where he skied this morning had been "injected" the night before. For the uninitiated, "injecting" a trail is exactly that: water is infused into the snow on a race hill so that it freezes solid overnight, created a rock-hard surface, uniform through the whole length of a race course. Such a surface, despite the fact that it would frighten even the most stalwart of New England recreational skiers, is perfect for racing. "Slipping" a course is the act of skidding sideways through a race course to remove the excess snow from the path racers will be following. As you watch the video, bear in mind that Bode was the only person training on the hill this morning, that as a result there were no ruts in the snow other than those he created, that the course had been slipped by several very excited Treble Cone instructors (myself included), and that what he skied on was as hard as a marble countertop. As for his skiing, I'll let the video tell the story. Enjoy.

The Deal

One of my favorite things to do at Treble Cone is to explain to guests who are good skiers and who have arrived at our resort for the first time precisely what the deal is, why our mountain is so different. It's hard to articulate so often, simply and with enthusiasm, I merely give them directions to the Saddle Basin: get off at the top of the Six Pack chairlift in the Home Basin. take a right and follow Saddle Track back underneath the lift, across the top of Powder Bowl and all the way to the Saddle Basin. The ridge line that separates the Home Basin (which has extraordinary terrain and definitely can stand on its own) from the Saddle Basin is quite sharp, so as we ski along Saddle Track, the basin doesn't come into view until we're practically on top of it. Then we see the whole thing, the whole deal, arrayed before us. It's absolutely breathtaking, and that's before making a single turn in it.

This morning I was able to escape the world of the Snow School for a couple of early morning runs, just after Patrol had dropped the ropes which had closed the Saddle Basin for the evening and morning sweeps. The photographs here show most of the skiable terrain there, looking from left to right from the ridge line entrance. There are more great steeps in between where I was standing and where the ground disappears in front of me which cannot be seen in these photos. The pictures also don't do justice to the Motatapu Chutes and Hollywood Bowl, home of some truly awe inspiring steeps.

It's difficult to really capture the scale of the place and the quality of the ski terrain in a series of still photographs. My hope in posting these is to give you a small sense of it and, therefore, a small appreciation for why I enjoy skiing and working at Treble Cone so much. Click on the photos for a full-size version and please don't blame me if you get caught day-dreaming in your office while looking at the Saddle Basin.

How Good is Great?

One funny phenomenon I find with ski instructors is how we react when asked whether someone is a good skier. We often respond with what is referred to in the communications business as a “poop sandwich”. Ok, we don’t use the word “poop”, but you get the idea. An example of a poop sandwich would be telling a student “That was great, really great. You didn’t really do what we set as our goal, but that was great.” So, when asked whether someone is a good skier, being instructors we cannot resist the urge to say yes but to qualify our affirmative response with some professorial analysis of how the person in question is deficient or needs improvement. I’ll leave it to the psychoanalysts to explain why this phenomenon occurs, but I do find it funny. Of course, there are exceptions.

This week, a number of people began to arrive at Treble Cone who would cause even the most jaded of instructors to remove the poop from the sandwich. First, Julia Mancuso, the 2006 Olympic giant slalom gold medalist among many other wins as a member of the U. S. Ski team, arrived to do some training on her own. There are some racers who we admire for their athleticism, for what they can accomplish and are willing to do on skis, and from whom we can learn a lot. Not all of them ski in a way that we can use as a visual model for our students. Julia Mancuso is the type of racer who, despite her obvious and exceptional strength, quickness and precision, skis in a manner which is a wonderful image for our students in its efficiency, balance and, well, tidiness. It’s been great watching her ski around the hill a bit.

Over the next few weeks, the amount of ski racing talent arriving at Treble Cone for training is somewhat staggering. In addition to Julia Mancuso, Bode Miller arrives here shortly. For the uninitiated, Bode is the 2008 Men’s World Cup Overall Champion. He may be just a kid from Franconia, New Hampshire, but Bode is simply one of the most talented ski racers in history. Further, the Austrian men’s and women’s alpine teams arrive over the next few days, the Norwegian men’s and women’s national teams arrive next week, and the German women’s national team shortly after that. Imagine summer league basketball with LeBron, Shaquille, Kobe, and others all playing hard on an asphalt court at the beach, and you get the picture. I try not to gawk, but sometimes I just have to stop and watch. Yes, there’s a fine line between gawking and ogling and I’m keenly aware of it.

Occasionally, one of my students or people in passing will make the mistake of referring to me or my colleagues as “great” skiers. I typically respond that I may be good enough to have skied with great skiers, I may be able to coach great skiers, and I may understand what makes for a great skier, but I have no delusions of grandeur. These athletes training at Treble Cone are truly great skiers, and it’s a pleasure to have them here to show us why.