You Must Learn Avy Skills

The North Face is on tour with a little snow safety mission called KNOW Boundaries and they swept through Portland last night with their message of backcountry awareness. Pro ski mountaineer Hilaree O'Neill broke it all down, from picking the right probe to picking the right partners. The presentation was based mostly on this video series and was in absolutely no way meant to replace a Level 1 Avalanche Certification. I'd call it a Level 0 certification: a free hour that doled out basic information about all the things you should be considering when you leave a resort gate and enter avalanche terrain. An interesting starting point, nothing more. If you've got time and want a free shirt, find the tour stop nearest you and get learned! (if that's Olympia, Wash., you get to hang out with Lucas Debari)

Hilaree, what's up with this pack with the bright red handle?

My Pro Model Backpack

Kind of. My cousin makes custom backpacks and outerwear. He's just made the switch after doing upholstery most of his life. Look out for Superior Threadworks. Blowing up soon. I call this the Incredible Hulk colorway.

Coming soon to the backcountry nowhere near you

Just in time for the Tailgate Alaska trip. You know what they say about getting new stuff right before a trip... Guess I'll have to blow that one off this time. Since it is my only backcountry pack and all. Not like I'm breaking out a new board. My plane leaves at 10:00 tonight. I'm so stoked!

Tailgate Alaska, Here I Come!

Backcountry, AK. The Chugach Range. Valdez, Alaska. Seeing those captions was the start of any bucket list I've ever had.  I've never had dreams of climbing the highest mountains or running an arbitrary 26.2 miles (though I might do that, eventually). Flying off in a helicopter (a fucking helicopter!) away from safety and security and into the seeming unknown of the mountains, the vastness, the solitude, those are the movies playing inside my eyelids at night. Hence, at the top of the list:

#1) Heli-board backcountry Alaska.

And now it just so happens that an opportunity to do so has arisen. A good friend of mine (we'll call him Martin because that's his name) bought his ticket to Tailgate Alaska, made a deposit on an RV and later realized he just couldn't make it work. Rather than give it all up, he agreed to eat the money he'd already put down in favor of letting someone else have this glowing opportunity of shred-nificence. I seized said opportunity with the grip of Mark McGuire's 'roid addled hands on a Louisville Slugger (OK, so actually I hemmed and hawed and had to work through some persistent self-doubt before I pulled the trigger). A half-price trip to a shred mecca!? Heroes, legends and regular folk all drinking from the same cooler? Salivating over the same snow? The people I read about and the mountains I read about!? This is gonna be sooo fucking cool! I seriously already have butterflies.

Baldface 2009: How to Do It Up Right

So you've had a pass at your local resort for a few years. Snow phone is #1 on your speed dial. You know the blacks and double blacks better than your significant other's favorite movies. [Mine's is Princess Bride] You hit the trees harder than Snoop Dogg on Saturday night. You don't even get out of bed for less than eight inches anymore. You've even been known to get a little Xtreem in the gated access areas. All of this is great, but there's something missing. The steeps just don't feel that steep anymore and the more you travel the more all these resorts just look the same. You're wondering, what's next?

Your options are several. You could buy all the necessary avalanche gear, take all the classes and set out with a group of like-minded individuals in search of first descents (or just first for you). This is a great option, but can be complicated. Where do you go? Splitboard or sled? Maps? Snow camping? There must be an easier way. Of course there is. Enter option 2. Helicopters!

Guided heli operations (like other guided services) take much of the guesswork out of the equation. They have the equipment, the knowledge and the transportation. After an avalanche refresher, you'll find yourself on top of line after line of, well, whatever you want to ride. The catch is obvious, money. Heli time alone can easily exceed $2000 per hour and as long as those blades are spinning, you're paying. Lodging and food may or may not be included in the price, so the budget just gets steeper. Any chance of a less expensive and less complicated way to get out there? Yup, remote snowcat riding, like Baldface Lodge.

Someday all of this can be yours, if only for three days (Dave Thomas photo)

Snowcat operations have most of the access and convenience of helicopters without the cost. Baldface, for example costs anywhere from 550-775 Canadian dollars per day, all inclusive. So for the price of an hour of heli time, you just paid off a four-day trip to some of the best Canada has to offer. As far as transportation goes, cats are no slouch, either. Granted, they aren't as fast as choppers, but they're much faster than skinning up. I'd compare it to a long chairlift ride. Think of it like this: you ride down a steep-gladed pitch with some cliffs and pillows thrown in (never having to cross another's tracks, of course) and at the bottom is the lodge only the lodge then drives you up to another similar line and you repeat 13 more times throughout the day. That's what cat-boarding feels like. The cat is fully equiped with whatever you thought to bring. Lunch, extra layers, music, friends oh yeah and it's warm.

My only experience with snowcat lodges was Baldface, so here are some tips on how to get the most out of your trip. First off, you don't even have to bring your own board. If you don't, make your first stop the gear room. Pick out your board and tune it up to your preferences. They have wax, iron, files and anything else you might need. After that it will be about time for dinner. Eat well, the meals are always good. Next comes the biggest choice you will face every night, to party or not to party. You won't have much time to shake the hangover the next morning, so my advice is to take it easy and maybe work your way up. Take it from Benny...

Partying and riding harder than you, Benny Pelegrino (Johan photo)

I personally partied myself into a seizure and missed the last day of riding, so that's where my advice is coming from. Just remember how much money you threw down and how you're going to feel in the morning after a night of drinking at altitude and if you still want to bang a gong, well, here's the mallet. Obviously drinking isn't the only thing to do, they have a pool table, dart board, fireworks, a sauna, ping pong, video games (including one with a fake guitar). One last thing before bed, if you're the type who likes a snack, just ask the kitchen staff, they're pretty accommodating. Now get to sleep.

The first thing that goes down in the morning is a stretching/yoga class. It's up to you whether you want to sleep for that half hour or stretch. I tried it both ways and the jury's still out. The jury is not out on breakfast, it has come to a unanimous verdict that breakfast is necessary. Any sucker caught skipping breakfast will serve a sentence of 5-10 runs of bad turns and general fatigue. Seriously, with all the options available, no one goes hungry at Baldface. After breakfast, pack a lunch, son, 'cuz it's gonna be a long day. When in doubt, pack more. You can always trade grade school style on the cat. Speaking of which, one time, in sixth grade, I traded a kid my apple for a Caramello bar. No joke. Then, I traded that for a granola bar and a bag of fruit snacks. And somehow I'm not a stock broker. That kid is probably a Franciscan monk with that kind of restraint and discipline. But I digress. At the end of the trip, I was packing a sandwich (they will have at least six options on any given day), two granola bars, an orange and a dessert bar (usually two options). Oh and don't forget that water bottle. Hydration is key, especially if you made it a late night or endulged in the sauna. Each cat is equipped with a milk crate size water cooler in case you should run out. As for the riding, if you're coming from resorts it will be the best time you've ever had. It takes some getting used to, so if this is your first time, start slow. The guides are there for you and they're smart enough to avoid potential hazards. Your mind gets to focus on avoiding trees and not avioding avalanches. However, don't stray too far from the guide's tracks lest you wander into unknown territory. After you're sufficiently jelly-legged the mobile lodge will deposit you back at the stationary lodge where hot soup and appetizers will be waiting. My routine went something like snack, beer, nap, shower, dinner. Sometimes I threw a sauna in there. Dave will show slides of the days action right before dinner, so don't miss it, especially on the days he was in your cat. Then, well, the routine (if you can really call this routine) repeats until they take you back to Nelson (via heli or cat and boat, just as you came) or as I like to call it, reality. Make sure and get the contact info of your new friends, so you can plan the next year's trip.

Everyone's friends on a powder day (Dave Thomas photo)

Baldface 2009: Like a Snow Dive for a Sauna

Righty-o, so I wake up on the first day of riding after a couple hours of sleep and head to the stretching/yoga class. Just what I needed. Seriously, odds are good I was in for a snore alarm clock, so I might as well be just barely awake. I'm kinda bummed that this was the only session that I made it to because this was the last day I had any appetite in the morning, too. Speaking of breakfast, Baldface does it up right. The spread was matched only by grand $20/plate buffets. Hot multigrain cereal and homemade granola with brown sugar, homemade yogurt and fruit toppings. Hot bacon, sausage and eggs. Homemade breakfast sandwiches and a bevvy of bread products with an assortment of toppings. Grab a cup of hot tea, coffe or cocoa and take a seat. Gotta chow down before you throw down. Then, it's time to pack a lunch because the cat don't come back 'til 4 or 5. Pick up a reusable insulated bag and fill it up with any of a dozen different homemade sandwiches, granola bars or apples and oranges. And don't forget the homemade cookies and brownies!

Now it's time to get geared up, you know, just like any other day on the mountain. What you'll need depends on what it's like outside. Check the weather report. Today: 65cm (just over 2 feet) fresh snow, temperature -5°C. Rub eyes and check again. . . yeah, you saw it right. Cue giddy school-girl giggling. Pack extra underwear because you'll probably piss yourself out of balls-out bliss after one turn. OK, now go to the gear room, grab your freshly waxed board and the most important piece of equipment in your arsenal: the avalanche transciever. I have no idea how to use one of these, so I better snap out of my light-headed rush at the conditions and pay attention during avalanche class.

I don't mean to gloss over this because avy preparedness is the most important thing for a backcountry rider. But I'm not qualified to teach you myself either. Learning from a trained professional (in our case two) is the only way. This class was where we met our lead guide, Joel, and our sweeper guide, Greg. As well as being a fine guide and hell of a good guy, Greg was a snow expert. You have a question about snow, ask him. What's the average avalanche burial depth? Greg says 80cm to 1m and I believe him. Joel was great, too. He laid out the template of how to use a transciever to find and rescue a buried rider. The stuff you need to know, but hope to never have to use. I couln't have asked for two better guys to show me the ropes on my first foray into the deepnessness.

Joel ripping it Dave Thomas photo

Greg knows how the snow blows Dave Thomas photo

After finding our beacons, it was time to pile into the cats and get out there for some fun in the BC pow. Admittedly, the first few runs were nothing like I thought they'd be. Then again, I didn't much know what to expect. I was not that smooth and having a hard time. Here's where Greg came to the rescue. He gave me a lot of pointers, got me to slow down and got me to take bigger turns. Basically he got me to chill out and get over the jitters. He also suggested that I set up a 156 Fish for the next day, a bit of advice that would be the turning point of the trip. That first day, more than anything was about progression. Going in, I thought I knew powder. It was like spending life in a backyard kiddie pool and then getting thrown into the ocean. The adjustment took a while. Any time Joel took us to an area where there was a cliff, jump or other opportunity to huck, I took the easier way down. Like a blind man at an orgy, I was all about feeling things out (Thanks Naked Gun).

None of this is to say I wasn't having a good time. Quite the opposite. It was like snowboarding for the first time. What's more fun than that? It was straight up playing in the snow. Spending time on your ass teaches you the best way to get up. As with the saying, it's not about how many times you fall, it's about how much fun you have when you're up. Right!? We had 13 people in the cat that day, which left an odd man out. Guess who that was? Mostly I rode in a group of three with a couple other guys from Portland. One was Oliver and I don't remember the other guy's name. If anyone has contact info for those two guys, hook me up. They left after two days and didn't ride in my cat day two. The rest of the time I rode with Greg. Without that guy, my trip wouldn't have been nearly as much fun. He helped me out constantly and was great guide to have around. Plus he was just a nice guy off the snow, too. Whatever they're paying you, Greg, it isn't enough. Huzzah!

Lodge time came too soon. I was just getting the hang of it. My mind was focused on hot food, cold beer and a quick nap before dinner. I woke up just in time to catch the slide show of Dave's photos before digging into another replenishing dinner. The Jesus jokes flew fast and furious and I was even treated to (maybe treated isn't the right word) an impromptu serenade of the chorus of Jesus is Just Alright by the Doobie Brothers (who are playing a show in May at the Rose Garden with the Allman Brothers Band, count me in). That was something never before heard by these ears. A first of firsts. Then it was time to set up the new board, a Burton 156 Fish. After another drink and a recounting of the days events with equally stoked out friends, it was off to bed only to get up and do it all again tomorrow. What could possibly be better tomorrow? Well, for one, Dave Thomas (no, not that Dave Thomas, the photographer) joined us to bring out that Kodak courage. Also, I had the right board and my confidence on the rise.

Tip of the iceberg Dave Thomas photo

Baldface 2009: Wake Up in Reality, Ascend into Dreamland

When last you left our hero, he was snoozing it off in the cheapest bed in Nelson, dreams of neck-deep powder drifting through his head. Only too abruptly he was awakened by his room mate packing up his shit to make it to the resort early. It was 6am and this rude bastard had strewn his ski gear all over the room, but mostly on the table right next to my head. Let this be a lesson to those of you who dare sleep in dorm-style rooms in hostels. Keep your shit next to your bed. Sounds easy, right? That way your room mate doesn't have to fake sleeping while you pack up for the day.

If you're sleeping on the right, don't put your shit on the left. Got it!?

OK, take 2, somewhere around 10am. Much better. A shower and a short stack of 'cakes and ski-douche is the farthest thing from my mind. One dude who is damaging my calm is this kid Trevor. He's staying at the hostel, I think, and he says he was at some party last night and is still tripping on acid. Matt can give you more details. He can't even finish a sentence and he definitely won't let you finish yours. Nothing is worse than being interrupted by a guy who has nothing to say. Anyway, I feast away with Matt, Nick and now fellow freq Jesse and get gone. The heli doesn't pick up 'til 2, so I've got some time to wander.

Item 1 on the agenda is pretty simple: find a Wunderbar. This candy bar is available in every drug and grocery store in Canada, but south of the border, you get none! I don't know if it's the fact that I can't have it that makes me want it so much or if it's the chewy, crispy, carmely, peanut buttery goodness, but the one I bought the night before just didn't do the trick and I need another one. Sooo good. I don't even eat candy bars in the US except for sometimes the days after Valentine's Day, Easter or Halloween when they're really cheap.

Whilst wandering I notice a sign that simply reads "Fireworks," outside of a gas station. Curiosity gets the best of me. Inside, I'm treated to the real deal. I wonder, will they let me shoot them off at the lodge? Will they let me bring them onto the heli? Will they even fly the heli today, the weather's pretty shitty? How long will it take in a snowcat? Did I remember to turn the heat off at my place? In the end, I settled on 20 bucks worth. If I had to leave them behind, no big deal, I'd shoot them off when I got back. If they got confiscated at the border, 20CDN is like bus fare in the US. (Me: Will they let me shoot off fireworks at the lodge? Matt: HAHAHAHA of course, they have a stash of their own. They'll probably make you shoot some off! [or something like that])

OK, we rally the group at the heli pad only to find out that they're not flying the choppers. Lame. We relocate to the docks and wait for transfer across the lake to the snowcats. Only we wait in a lounge... and no one gets charged for drinks. Hmm... Many of the freqs decide that letting the others go first would be the polite thing to do. As we get on the boat some crazy guy decides to jump into the lake. I realize now that if I was just getting back from Baldface, I might feel invincible, too. That guy came back to reality in a harsh way. Much as I did, now that I think about it.

Jesse's just a little bummed about not getting to heli in

OK, so we get to the cats and the joke's on us, they had a case of Kokanee waiting for us there the whole time. And someone brought a handle of Crown Royal, you know, just to keep it Canadian. I don't know how long it took from there to the lodge, but in that time I met most of the senior staff of frequency and drank, well, I had a couple. The drinking, in this case, served not only as a social lubricant (maybe a little too much in that regard as I started bricking 'dead baby' jokes immediately), but also to calm my nerves. You see, I had no idea what to expect. I knew it was 'epic-ing' out, so the snow would be good, but would that mean increased avalanche risk? Would my ribs hold up? Would my lungs and legs hold up for four full days in a row? The drinks said, "Let it ride." So I did.

Get in. And do you know the difference between jam and jelly?

We were welcomed to the lodge with awesome dinner. Seriously, every dinner was better than most things I've ever cooked. The desserts were far better. Also, by this time, word had spread that I was a lone traveler from Oregon. I guess that's not too common, but not everyone has friends who can afford this type of journey. (I've got at least one friend who, hearing the tales of high adventure on the snowy seas swears his savings start now.) Add to that my long hair and beard and a few guys dubbed me Jesus. This would be a recurring theme throughout the trip. Funny dudes all the way around. When you look like I do, you're prepared for these types of gags, but the lengths they took it to were unprecedented. I'll have pictures of that later.

You gots to chill...

After the feast of the mouth came the feast of the snowboards. Down in the gear room was every board you could imagine. OK, not really, but they had dozens of types, sizes and shapes. I settled on a Burton Fish LTD 160 with Cartel EST bindings. Both this year's model. After a quick wax and tune, she was ready for action. And now that buzz was back. Only a more positive vibe this time. The stick was slick and I was ready to kick it. A little more socializing and I was off to bed early. Not much sleep, though, just tossing and turning. Then my room mate came in. Woody is nice as hell. Woody is also a heavy snorer. So heavy that I went to the couches in the game room for solace. No dice. There my ears were assaulted by the dance beats thumping away upstairs. Half an hour at a time was all I could manage. Thankfully, by the time I retreated back to my room, Woody had stopped snoring. Miracles can happen. It was just past 4 and I would sleep uninterrupted 'til breakfast, almost three hours.

Good morning, Baldface!

In our next installment, I'll tell you about some of the deepest powder I've ever ridden, how to find the pow board for you and a serenade for the ages. 'Til then, get out there and rip your own line.

Avalanche Awareness

Any interest in riding out-of-bounds? How about the backcountry? What's the difference? Do you pack a beacon, probe and pole every time or do you often strike out solo and hope for the best? Who hasn't been gripped by footage of Jeremy Jones or Travis Rice narrowly escaping death while riding the white wave. If you want to know the ropes, take this survey from the Canadian Avalanche Centre and Simon Fraser University to gauge your readiness. You could win a beacon, AvaLung or shovel/probe set. Or you could gain valuable info that could save your life. We're all winners in this one, go take the survey.