Alaska Always Makes You Think

View across the street from basecamp.

Fellow snowboarders, I'm back from AK. What was I up to while I was there? This stuff. Hence my lack of writing on this fair site. I didn't do nearly as much riding as I had hoped, but I got plenty of good work done, including some enlightening interviews that could lead places. Exciting places.

Along the way, I did learn a thing or two that you might find interesting, if not entertaining. I will share that information with you now. Cue that song.

It's not always all about the snowboarding. It's the whole experience. Northern lights to bar fights. Maybe you score a free heli flight for being with the media. Maybe your sled breaks down halfway up and you miss all but two runs of the contest you were supposed to be covering.

View from inside the cat.

You'll probably get some sled bumps, maybe a cat day, some road runs. Splitboard. Hike. Get out there. Just don't worry if you don't. Do something just as mind-blowing instead.

You will get sick either in Valdez or immediately upon return. Some attribute it to the oil pipeline terminus. I attribute it to the late nights and drinking. My friend and photographer never went to sleep sober or before 4am, he came back with pneumonia and plenty of new friends

Snowmobiles are the best way around Thompson Pass. I never had a smooth trip on one in two weeks including a spontaneous trip into a creek and a halfway-to-the-contest-finals breakdown. Maybe it's because I never referred to them as 'snowmachines' as the Alaskans say.

Mike Basich's pickup holds a sled and pops up.

Speaking of which, you can fit a snowmachine into the back of a Suburban. You saw that in the last post, but did I mention he slept in there with it one night, too?

Tips for getting rides on a sled: have your own, have a loyal friend (most friends will just bail on you), have money, have drugs, be female. I guess the old 'ass, grass or cash' mantra holds.

The female-to-male ratio is probably more like 10-to-1.

Pam Robinson was definitely digging the ratio.

A 10 in Alaska is a 4 elsewhere. Try not to think about what gets a 4 in Alaska.

Andy Bergin-Sperry set up a business drying other peoples' clothes. I hear he even got some takers.

The guy serving you drinks at night might be giving you sled bumps by day. Tip well.

Gilly and Jonesy, 'nuf said.

Kevin Jones is the real deal. He said, "You're not a snowboarder if you don't come here." But he still thinks too many people are showing up. Maybe there are just too many people. He's been coming here for 17 years. Private heli for 30 days? Done it. Still says a splitboard changed his life. Genuine article, folks.

"Do what you can today, for tomorrow may be gray."  -- Dave Geis, Alaska Snowboard Guides

"What's the difference between Valdez and Maine? What do you think this is, a joke?" -- Darren "Gilly" Gilmour, former Mainer

Manly man. I couldn't get the moose in the frame.

Alaska locals look kinda like Portland locals. Except they're bigger and their clothes look tattered from doing actual work. That and they look like they would beat the shit out of you or just shoot you. The beards, though, the beards are similar.

The sign said "No Sopping Avalanche Area." Now what?

Finally, I'd like to thank Chris at Snowboard Magazine for giving us the chance. We wouldn't have gone  without that and I hope we delivered. I'd also like to thank the guys at ClifBar for hooking us up with 30 pounds of food and promotional goodies. Our time on the pass would have much more expensive or just straight malnourished without them.

Tailgate Alaska, Here We Come!

Car 1 of 2 in the caravan

The drive from Chugiak to Valdez went down today. Breathtaking mountain vistas, half-rushing-half-frozen rivers, giant wolf dogs standing in the road. All in a day's drive in the 49th state. 

The Tailgate lot is just getting finished. It's looking bigger and badder than last year. They're rocking a sun deck on scaffolding and the bbq zone is best described as a trailerpark courtyard. Pictures on the way. Forecast for the week is precipitation. Riding forecast is small ball. File this under something you've never seen before:

The old 'snowmachine in the Suburban' trick

Tailgate Alaska: Outtakes

Alaska's state bird is the willow ptarmigan. It's a member of the grouse family, but to the uneducated eye, at a glance, it looks like a dove. I mention this because when you blast a toeside turn and the resultant rooster tail makes a flock of these fowl erupt in front of you, it's enough to make you think you're in a John Woo movie. Best move is to come out with both guns blazing. Slash first, ask questions later.

There's a chance you may come across a man biking down the Richardson Highway toward Thompson Pass with a fully-grown falcon perched on handlebars. Do not be alarmed. This man is probably trained to rescue and rehabilitate raptors. You know, mommy bird style. I didn't ask if he ever vomited into the young bird's mouth, nor if he taught it how to "sick 'em."

Mike Basich, dropping. Photo: Jeff Hawe

The King of the Hill contest went off the very same day I went for most of my riding. Those blue skies make things get done. We did a flyover on our way out and things were getting going. Weird to see a bunch of sponsor tents set up at the bottom of Bro Bowl: a 10-minute sled ride for all involved. Check out a write-up with the above and more quality photos at snowboardermag. Another quality piece including full results at ESPN. Congrats to King Will Brommelsiek and Queen Holly Enderle. Hip hip, hooray and shit.

Tailgate Alaska: First Heli Run in the Books

Clear enough to ride

The window to ride opened this afternoon for three lucky groups. Fortunately, I was among them. The rest of our group consisted of Mike from San Diego, the product manager for Dragon; Alex from Germany, the European head of distribution for Rockstar Energy Drink and Dawn, who was late to show, so I know nothing about her. She was a skier and had a Jackosn Hole Air Force patch on her pack. Our guide was Dave the Wave. He also had a JHAF patch, but a different one. The legit-looking "Swift, Silent, Deep" one. His I believed. Wavey, as we called him, was small enough to fit in my pack and let the leash out on us a little. Good man.

The route we took was near the top of the middle ridge in the picture above, but it was on the other side. It was called R.F.S. The F is the f-word. The others mean "really steep." We took the not-as-steep route, it being our first time together as a group. That said it still maintained 45° for the first 1000 feet or so, which is steeper than most runs at Mt. Hood Meadows. Oh yeah and knee-deep powder. Lower on the run the snow got worse and the terrain flattened out, but not before some nice drops and ripped turns. Some shitty traverses later and we were at the road, waiting for our shuttle home. Yes, we took the run to the road and had a van retrieve us. Works in a pinch. This time, meteorological.

For sure, the weather was hot on our tails from the second we landed. Right now, it's dumping and howling. I'm told tomorrow morning is looking good, but I'm beginning to think they say that to keep our hopes up through the night. If the wind doesn't scour the slopes clean and the sun manages to grace us with her beauty, it might be on again mañana.

Hoping to see more of this

If that's all I get for heli-baording in Alaska, well, I'll have credit that rolls over for next year. I'm nowhere near satisfied. I'm told this is the lowest snow year on record here and with all the rocks on that run, I believe it. Then again, this storm tonight could produce. Stay tuned.

Tailgate Alaska: This is How It Begins

Head out the window, foot on the gas

Overnight flight to Anchorage arrives right on time. Maybe even a little early at 12:35am. The one time I'd be more comfortable spending hours in a holding pattern. You see my accommodations for the next eight hours are on a bench in the terminal. The RV isn't ready 'til 8:30 and I don't have a hotel. At least it's heated and indoors. Plus, I'm on a roll with freaky-ass dreams. Ask me about them sometime, but be prepared.

The RV - alternately called motorhome or coach - wasn't ready when I showed up, so I had to mosey next door to a bar that served breakfast. I've never been in a bar at 8:30 in the morning, but I have listened to the NoFX song "First Call" enough times to know what I was walking into. Thankfully the song wasn't spot on. Two other mopes joined me as I passed on a questionable breakfast and settled on some tea.

If only it stayed that sunny

When my ride was finally ready and I was properly briefed as to how to mix my urine with antifreeze - 1:1 ratio, so nothing freezes - I blasted downtown for some real breakfast at the Snow City Cafe. Crab cakes benedict and carrot cake for the road kept me company as I headed north on the Glenn Highway (1). Wait, what? I forgot my cameras? Better stop by Wal-Mart - loose return policy - to 'buy' a new one.

No moose were harmed in the shooting of this sign

Rolling north past Palmer the Chugach Range stayed in tantalizingly in view. The only roadside viewpoints I missed were the ones I was driving too fast to stop for. The RV might be built like a truck, but it navigated the wooded roller coaster much like the local sheep. Once I looked down only to find I was going nearly 80. Nimble and quiet that one. That being said, I almost caught some air on choppier sections of the road. The frost heaves nearly heaving me out of my seat.

As I made the turn south on the Richardson Highway (4) the road turned into a birch and spruce tunnel. The light at the end signified by the ever-present Chugach. Light snow started falling as I reached my destination, Thompson Pass, the ABA parking lot and Tailgate Alaska. Only to find the office was closed. A hand-written sign on the door said "Fish fry at the Fat Mermaid. Come join us!" Fat Mermaid? Don't mind if I do. Onward to Valdez.

Insert photo of you and your 500-pound tuna here

The snow turned to rain coming down the mountains and of course by the time I got there, the fish was gone. This being a port town fish was readily available, so I went down the street for the halibut. Not as good as I had hoped for, but I was in Alaska, fish in my belly and freeriding in sight. Here's hoping for more snow, but other than that I couldn't ask for much.

A lone breadstick always looks phallic.

Down the street, The Board Room hosted the King of the Hill opening party. Nick Perata and Mark Sullivan took the mic and told the news. Delay. Since the WESC was delayed, it would start on Saturday and KotH would wait a few. So, until then, we ride anyway.

Today, instead of contest coverage, I'll be checking in for tomorrow's heli trip, checking out base camp and probably checking out some survival classes. Full coverage of the Tailgate lot to follow. Right now, gentle snow, in-n-out sun, breakfast on the way. Peace.