April 5, 2008

My apologies go out to Lake County for not keeping this updated more frequently. My new job keeps me hopping and our social life seems to be quite full. We seem to be away from home quite often.

My job is still quite engaging. I am enjoying it and am looking forward to getting out to the platforms in the near future. I am slowly gaining weight. Food is available almost every day. We have frequent meetings that include lunch. This week I had 3 lunches and a dinner provided. The problem is that lunch used to be my small meal with very little snacking between breakfast and dinner. Now my meals vary in portion and I don’t seem to have control over my total intake. I have only gained a couple pounds and am well within a healthy range, but I need to re-establish balance.

We saw a skier break his back last weekend. The prognosis looks positive, but it will be a long road to recovery. It happened during an extreme skiing event at our home mountain. Throughout the day on Saturday, skiers took routes down a steep section of the Headwall that is never open to the public. The competition area looked more like a rocky mountain than a snow covered slope. Huge sections of rock were separated by narrow lines of snow. The visible rock is typically just sections that are so steep that the snow doesn’t adhere.

We watched on each of our chair lift rides as the skiers found interesting routes to take through the tight chutes and over cliffs that reached over 50 feet in height. We even watched from the viewing area as a world famous skier took a very aggressive line, bringing gasps from the small crowd and cheers as he skied away.

The snow was pretty nice, but especially on North Face. The lower mountain had some nice conditions as well. We made several runs on each. As we headed to the very top for one last run down North Face, I noticed that Monies was open. I talked Kris into the climb. We arrived at the top of the climb and tried to catch our breath. The platform carved into the snow was narrow and not very level, numerous skiers were waiting their turn. We talked to the patroller and he indicated that the conditions were pretty good on the entry.

I side slipped over to the edge and looked back to see if Kris was comfortable. Pausing on the knife ridge with a big drop about 10 feet behind me made the patroller nervous. He asked me not to teeter there. I apologized for making him uncomfortable and dropped off the other side, pleased to see that the rocks that were exposed on my previous experience on this section of the mountain were now deeply buried in snow. I shouted back to Kris that it was no big deal. She rounded the bend and we agreed to take the first face. We dropped in on the smooth but chalky snow. It was even steeper than I remembered, thrillingly steep, continuously steep for so long. It was an awesome run.

We decided to take one more easy run to finish the day. As we rode the lift to mid-mountain, we could see the extreme skiing event was still underway. A skier was starting down and after unloading from the lift, we stopped to watch. It was mesmerizing. The line he was on led nowhere. The only way out was unbelievable. He stood there looking for the line for minutes. We stood there stunned, wanting to ski away, discussing that it might not turn out well, but unable to turn away. When he finally released his edge hold and his intended line was confirmed, I felt butterflies. The line was a short drop followed by a huge drop estimated at 70 feet. It was narrow, leaving no room for error. I was quickly relieved when he landed in a white area in a seemingly upright position. After a brief moment of hope, the tumble began. It became quickly apparent that there was no movement, even more apparent as it turned into a slide.

Being extreme terrain, help was not quick in arriving. A few rescuers worked their way down from above to aid. A patroller worked his way across High Traverse with a sled, but the injured skier hadn’t quite slid down that far. The skier didn’t move during the several minutes it took for help to arrive. A large group of people were climbing up from below, a long steep climb in soft, barely packed snow that I have skied many times. We finally skied away, finishing our day, unsure of the outcome. A helicopter headed up while we were down at the parking lot.

It was strange that this story didn’t show up in the papers until mid-week. The competition got minimal press coverage over the weekend, but the coverage seemed upbeat, promoting the final day, ignoring the dramatic event that suspended the competition and cast a shadow over the finals. I don’t know why it didn’t make the news earlier.

I am not sure how I feel about it. I stood there and watched even though I knew it might not be good. It is disturbing how fun it is to watch people drop over cliffs.

The skiing portions were skillful, but no more skillful than my own skiing on steep terrain. Sure, some of these people were incredibly athletic, skiing crud at high speeds for distances that would buckle my legs, but the skill involved was surprisingly unimpressive. I know I don’t have the experience to know how to land a big drop and will never gain that, but I don’t see that as some huge skills challenge. More to the point, gravity is not a skill.

Instead, I see a competition that is more about nerve than skill. While this sounds like a criticism, it has great appeal to me. My personal activities have put me in touch with the joy of risk. I enjoy skills, they have their own personal payoff in a sense of accomplishment, but risk is a powerful payoff, the joy of conquering your fear. This can become a self escalating addiction. I think I understand what drives people to such apparent foolishness. I think age has pushed me beyond the addiction, but I think I understand it.

So I can see how people get to this point, living for the joy of scaring themselves. In some regards, I support their right to take on such risks as a recreational activity. On the other hand, it is easy to be judgmental, to think he got what he deserved, that he is lucky to be alive. Somewhere in between is sympathy, but I can‘t really say that is what I feel. The event provides some perspective but answers no questions for me.

On Sunday, we skied at Alpenglow. It was a free day for members so we decided to head up and hope for some spring conditions. It wasn’t great. It was nice snow, but the visibility was a little low and the snow was a little variable. Our legs were additionally challenged since the only lift running was the surface lift, dragging us up 900 feet of vertical without providing an opportunity to rest our legs. Chairlifts can be quite useful, providing a chance to take the weight off and relax for a few minutes between runs. We wore out quickly.