May 3, 2008

It is May already. A week ago we woke up to a couple feet of snow. Today was sunny and warm, well Alaska in May warm, like 40 some degrees, maybe 50. Darkness is gone, not to be seen again until late August, unless I find myself with a case of insomnia in the next couple of weeks. I had to get up at 4:45 one morning this week to catch a flight to Kenai and it was already light outside.

Last weekend’s snow storm was the biggest snow fall we have seen in Anchorage, about 22 inches. It was not that bad compared to some of the storms we used to get in Ohio. The sun and warmth made short work of the heavy snow. By Saturday afternoon, the roads were mostly dry. By Sunday, the grass was showing through again. The only evidence that remains now are the huge piles made by snowplows and heavy equipment that cleared the driveways and parking lots around town.

Last night we took a walk down to the lake. The lake is starting to open up. The ice will disappear quickly now. Next weekend should be summer.

Last weekend’s final days of skiing were quite fun. The new snow on Saturday was hard work, heavy and deep. We scouted around looking for nice snow. Late in the day we found a nice chute under Chair 1, a tight steep chute that we hadn’t skied all season although we skied it quite a bit last season. Then we hung around to see a few competitors in the annual Slush Cup, the end of the season pond skimming competition.

Sunday was truly incredible, a perfect end to the season. The snow softened to spring conditions. We know that when you find a good line at this time of the year, you need to stick with it. The sun angle, slope angle, and temperature all team up to create highly variable conditions. The good stuff usually only exists in a narrow region. We found the line early enough in the day to make several runs from top to bottom. The first part was a little firm, but soft enough and slightly bumped. After passing the tram station, we went through a stretch of awesome soft bumps. Then we arrived at a short steep chute marked with a “Danger - Cliff” sign that was way overstated given the over 850 inches of snow that had fallen this season. From there, we followed a short stretch of smooth but sticky snow to the entrance of the chute under Chair 1. Smooth, steep, sloughing snow led to large slushy moguls. Two more chutes cut the corners of the groomed runs snaking down the lower mountain. The slow soft snow took the fear out of the steepness. Two short sections of groomed runs, one with a fun jump and the other with a steep section in the shade of the trees, finished the 2500 foot run. Two lift rides back to the top and repeat.

Somewhere in the midst of our laps, we ran into all of our normal ski friends. Even our speed demon friend slowed his pace to hang with the group on the last day of the season. We had our gang of old people attacking the expert terrain and generally acting like the teenage boys who were the only other skiers using the same lines. It was fun silliness. We finished the day at Maxines, our favorite restaurant in Girdwood.

Continuing with a recurring theme for this spring, one of my closest friends suffered a serious injury on a mountain bike last weekend. It is a matter of concern for us, worrying about his suffering, surgery, and recovery, worrying about the disruption to life that not only affects him, but the people who depend on him. The news so far is encouraging. We are hoping for the best, a full and reasonably quick recovery.

It has been another spark for our ongoing conversation on risk. It is a confusing subject matter when you know you are routinely in the midst of activities that are generally viewed as risky. We have no answers. We understand the elements of skill and concentration. We understand the uncontrollable elements like equipment failures, other people, and other odd random events. We understand that decisions are often made quickly based on subjective perceptions of all these potential contributors. None of that provides any clarity. Perhaps these conversations will simply help us in our decision making processes.

It is tempting to throw out the baby with the bathwater . We could just say that we will never mountain bike again, but that doesn’t make any sense to me. Why would I give up a healthy activity? I think the specifics of the situation do provide some useful information. Kris and I have both taken falls from elevated positions. In Kris’ case, it was merely the luck of the landing that separated her situation from our friend’s. I think we will be extremely cautious in such situations in the future.

Consequences rarely have certainty. People have fallen in horrible places and walked away and people have fallen in safe looking locations and suffered horrible consequences. This is the real irony of life. We can feel somewhat smug when other people’s consequences match our perception of risk. Life is not that simple.

The day after a skier died at Alyeska, we got up and enjoyed a magnificent day of skiing. The only thing weird about the situation was how ordinary the day seemed. It was just another day of skiing. No one thought the consequences one skier suffered had any implication to them. For me, for us, the events of the past several weeks have been a weird thing to contemplate, but it hasn’t provided any clear answers. It is all just a reminder of the risks in life. I did buy a new bike helmet today, but I still went for a bike ride, pulled a few wheelies, hit a few jumps and enjoyed my ride, tame though it was.

I hope my friend is feeling less pain.