The Kindness of Others

My first season teaching skiing at Okemo was also the first season that the resort began to hire foreign instructors, all of whom were Australian at that time. Since then, the number and diversity of our foreign teaching staff has grown and evolved considerably. Apart from fulfilling an important role in the business of running our resort – we depend on international recruiting for housekeeping, lifts, snowmaking, hotel staff and others in addition to instructors - our international staff does a great deal to enrich the Okemo experience of our guests and our American staff alike. My purpose in writing about this is not to address the issue of visas for temporary foreign workers, though that is a major issue for the entire snowsports industry this year. Rather, it’s to note that what goes around comes around.

Not surprisingly, at home I own a car which I drive to get to and from work, to do errands around town, to conduct my social life, and to get the heck out of Dodge when needed (Ludlow is a small town, after all). Okemo is very close to downtown Ludlow by car, and Ludlow has a very compact town center with the market, bars, restaurants and necessary stores all very close to each other and to staff housing. The five minute drive from the resort to town, however, involves a very long, very steep access road with no sidewalk. So, over the years I’ve always made sure to give friends and colleagues a ride home when needed and the occasional early morning pick-up on powder days, and I try to shrug it off insisting that it’s no trouble.

Here in Wanaka, New Zealand, I do not own a car. Today, my day off, I’ll walk from the house where I’m staying into town which will take about half an hour, then to the gym from town which will take another 20 minutes, and then back home, another 45 or more. Thankfully, after several gloomy days up on the hill, it’s sunny and warm outside and the long walks along the lakefront will be most welcome today. I may stop by an outdoor café where I’m likely to see friends, pop into an internet café to check email, read the newspaper and check on the Vuelta a Espańa. I’ll generally enjoy the slow pace, making the walk more about strolling along than about locomotion or transport, in particular given that I’ll likely be stopped in my tracks by the views of the Buchanan Range from across Lake Wanaka.

There are many evenings, however, after the staff transport drops me off at the gym after a long day of work, when the long walk home on an empty stomach is the last thing I want to do. When I need to do my grocery shopping, I arrive at the market with a backpack and only buy enough food to fit in it without turning my walk home into the Long March. Especially when the winter days are cold and short (and they are very short this far South), I frequently get lucky and find friends willing to give me a ride. I try not to be a burden and I do ‘hem and haw’ about asking, but I find people are very happy and willing to go a little out of their way for me. In this way and in so many others, folks here in Wanaka and at Treble Cone specifically understand that many of us travel a great distance to spend time here. They are prideful of their place and genuinely excited to share it with us, and assisting with a lift here and there is therefore a natural thing to do.

It’s funny being on the other side of this equation here and, while do I occasionally drive around Wanaka in a borrowed car reveling in the freedom it provides, it’s a nice reminder of how far a little help can go to make visitors feel welcome. For the next month until I depart New Zealand, I’ll continue to benefit from the kindness of my hosts here in many ways large and small. Once I’m back home in Vermont, the coin will flip and I’ll be able to return the favor. When that happens, I’ll enjoy not having to bring a backpack to buy groceries and I’ll still insist that providing a ride is no problem at all.

One brief note about the photo above: It’s not unusual to have a herd of cattle or a flock of sheep in the middle of the road on our way to or from Treble Cone. At least the cows are on the correct side of the road. Would they be on the right hand side in Vermont?

Sounds of Spring, Redux

As would be the case in any mountain range, Spring here has been moving it's way from the valley floors and the lakeside in Wanaka up in altitude a little at a time. In town, trees are budding, the pastures are green, the birds are in good voice, and the local residents are wandering about in lose clothing with grins on their faces. Up High at Treble Cone, we've had some good recent snowfall and conditions remain excellent.

Consider that I took the photos appearing here and the video below within a few days of each other. The video includes audio, so while you listen to it consider that at one thousand meters higher in altitude the sounds are quite different. The video was taken from the top of Bald Peak, a large hill rising from the valley floor in the Matukituki Basin which separates the Harris Range (where Treble Cone is located) from Lake Wanaka. Towards the end of the video are views of Treble Cone for some perspective.

The most important aspect of the evolving change in seasons is that here on the South Island we gain three minutes of sunshine every day in September. That makes up a lot of ground in my endless winter

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.