March 1, 2007

Whoa, March is here.

Sunday was a ski day. It was cold, but sunny and beautiful. The mountain was firm, to put it mildly.

We climbed up into Glacier Bowl, a bit of a hike to some rarely opened terrain. A chunk of snow the size of a house sat in the middle of the bowl, a reminder of the hazards of the mountains. It had fallen from the cornice hundreds of feet above. I kept looking up at this other chunk of snow hanging over the cornice, looking precarious. I was sure that it had withstood some explosives so I wasn’t too concerned about it landing on my head, but it was a little intimidating. After a few hundred feet of climbing, we reached the highest point open. We caught our breath and enjoyed the view. Then we dropped into steep, untracked, crusted over snow. The crust was horrible. It was nearly impossible to turn. We worked hard for a miserable run, but enjoyed it anyway.

We tried North Face. It was firm too, but soft enough to set an edge. I don’t imagine they would open something that steep if it was truly icy. It was an amusing run. Every turn cut loose small firm snowballs that made a rattling sound as they tumbled over the firm surface. The rattling continued building as we linked turn after turn. When we stopped to catch our breath, the rattling would continue for quite some time with small snow balls rolling over our skis.

We didn’t ski long. The conditions weren’t great and the temperature was brisk. We decided to end the day with our first top to bottom nonstop run of the season. The groomed runs were decent most of the way. The mountain was empty and we let it fly a little. Our new skis make relatively short turns so it is difficult to ski extremely fast, but we were pushing the limit. On the flatter sections, we were really laying down some turns, huge, fast, 180 degree turns. It was putting some load on my thighs, but it was too much fun to just take it easy and conserve energy. As we got lower, we began hitting more icy spots. I almost fell on a steep section when my edges let go. We reached the bottom feeling a little worn, but still strong.

A race course blocked our route to the upper parking lot so we took one last lift ride so that we wouldn’t have to climb up to the parking lot. The wind was howling and the snow was blowing off the face of the run. The surface of the run was wicked icy. I felt like a beginner trying to survive this armor plated run.

On the way home, we stopped at one of the pullouts to look at the sunlit mountains. I parked the truck and we both simultaneously said, “Wow”. With the cold stretch, Turnagain Arm was full of ice. We could not see any open water anywhere in front of us. This was clearly the situation as we drove along the road. What we couldn’t tell at 60 mph, what we couldn’t tell until we stopped moving was that the ice was moving. The tide was going out and the ice was moving at a disturbing pace. The ice was still, just moving. When we pulled into a parking space facing the water and only about 20 feet away, we were looking at several miles of ice moving rapidly from left to right. Practically everything in view was moving. It felt more like we were moving since it seemed wrong for all that stuff to be moving.

I went to the west side of the Cook Inlet for the first time on Tuesday. I flew in a small plane from Anchorage. A pickup truck met us at the air strip and we drove about 7 miles to one of the oil facilities on shore. From there, we hopped on a helicopter and visited a platform. The ice in the inlet was slicing on the legs of the platform. Huge slabs of ice broke and climbed on top of each other. The platform felt like it was moving as all the visible surroundings were moving. It was particularly disorienting as we climbed a 30 foot ladder near one edge of the platform. Of course the platform really was moving. It vibrated with every ice sheet that hammered the legs. In the kitchen, pots and pans were swinging back and forth. The operators explained that it wasn’t really moving until the water in the toilets was sloshing.

We returned to land and I inspected two land based facilities before hopping back on a small plane. The return flight flew up the west side. I was amazed at how much was over there. Several oil facilities, some roads, a small settlement, and a power plant. I was also surprised at how close to the mountains it felt. Looking across the inlet from Anchorage, the mountains seem distant. Once on the other side, the mountains are pretty close to shore. It was a beautiful area, but oddly developed. It is a real wilderness dotted with industrial facilities.

The weather has continued to be cold. Today it got worse. The wind kicked up. The winds are higher than I think I have experienced in Anchorage. We often get high winds along Turnagain Arm and the mountains, but down low, it is rarely windy. Today we had low teens and high winds. I spent a couple hours outside inspecting a facility in town. It was really harsh. We had virtually no snow in February. March is starting out dry as well.

So I guess the theme for the week was disorienting movement - fast skiing, small planes, helicopters, platforms, strong tidal currents, and finally high winds. I think my propensity for motion sickness has greatly reduced over the years.