Happy New Year

I received my parents' christmas card in the mail today and was pleased to find a plug for my blog in the midst of the news about my family. Powder and work, however, have conspired to make my blog entries increasingly sporadic, so I thought I'd update for those who may be first timers.

I'm living in Whistler BC, working as a bootfitter at Surefoot, and skiing every spare moment. Currently, it is peak season and Whistler is working its tail off to ensure that all the tourists have absolutely no trouble spending every dime they've got during their vacation. To top of the holiday season, mother nature has decided to give us some much needed snow, at long last.

Today, for instance, has been spectacular--a truly auspicious start to the new year. Some friends and I awoke early to catch the first chair up the mountain to make tracks through the 10-odd inches that fell on Blackcomb mountain last night. It was an incredible morning of skiing--the only time I stopped smiling from 8:30 until 11 was to whoop and holler or wipe snow from my face. Let me illustrate.

The trees under the Jersey Cream chair were seriously wind-loaded. That is to say, the wind had scooped the 10" from other places on the mountain and dumped it in the Jersey Cream trees. So instead of 10" there was 40+ inches. One moment in particular made my day. I was skiing under the lift, trying to find a powder stash I had seen on the ride up. I found the spot with little hassle, and prepared to ski. Upon entry to the small chute I realized there were several large ugly rocks that would "dead-end" my line and wreck my skis. Unable to stop, I jetted sideways through a small gap in two trees and jumped off a small cliff of maybe 4 feet. Basically I was praying there was enough snow coverage on the landing to make this maneouver pay off.

It was the face-shot to end all face-shots. Imagine jumping into a pool of down feathers--you feel the soft, silky white slip underneath your skis, and as you plunge downward a feeling of total weightlessness envelops you. As you descend, this soft blanket covers your head and for a moment everything is dark. Time and space pause allow you to better savor the moment, this single second that fulfills your deepest desires and reaffirms that powder-fever which brought you to Whistler in the first place. Then from the darkness you emerge, reborn. Speeding forwards into the light, golden-silver fluff flying from your jacket and helmet, a breathless whoop escapes your lips and you continue onward, exhilarated as never before.

All that before work.

Best wishes to all for the new year--I hope it treats everyone spectacularly well.

Happy New Year!!

Holly Jolly/The Grinch

Alternately this christmas has felt like a "Holly Jolly Christmas" and a "Christmas the Grinch stole." By that I simply mean it's been a holiday of ups and downs. Here's a list of each that I'm writing down to get it off my chest.

All things Grinchy

Annie breaking her tibia/fibula while skiing on Christmas day
A seriously bad run of unreasonable customers on Christmas day wanting to return boots leading to Andrew feeling discouraged about his job
The ice scraper in my car won't scrape ice
There is no snow
My skis have no edges even after being tuned--too many rocks
I'm working nine days straight and won't have a chance to ski for over a week
I cut my finger with a razor blade
The 2nd degree steam burn on my wrist
Missing out on Mexico
Living with 17 people and 2 roommates
Hide's alarm clock
The water pipe freezing in the kitchen and having to hand-wash all the dishes
2 in-bounds fatalities at Whistler Blackcomb this season
The Excalibur gondola crash
The recession
A general feeling that the karma in Whistler seriously bites right now

All Things Holly and Jolly

The massive Christmas dinner was a whopping success--pretty much the best time ever
Getting a call from the Mexico crowd on Christmas Eve
Drinking a glass of wine with dinner for the first time in months
I got lots of compliments on my pumpkin pie
Playing guitar every day
Working at a shop with really cool employees
Drinking Irish Coffee at work on Christmas morning
Drinking Rum and Egg Nog at work on Christmas morning
Drinking Brandy and Egg Nog at work on Christmas morning
Making double commission and double wage on Christmas day
Christmas day dinner with Adrienne, Shawn, and Poleck
Playing Band Hero 2 at said dinner (yeah, I've still got it)
Living with 17 awesome people
Getting a Christmas present from Mom and Dad
A forecast that calls for a week of straight snow!!

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times....that's my Christmas season.

Christmas Plans

The deerhorn house is hosting a massive dinner party on Christmas Eve--36 people are expected to show. Granted, 18 of those people live here, but it's still a big deal. Also, the hot-water pipe to the kitchen froze several days ago so we don't have a dishwasher or hot water in the kitchen....we'll see how things go.

Everyone is contributing a food typical of their country, so we'll have Korean, Japanese, Swedish, Danish, German, Australian, , etc. I'm spent part of the evening making several pumpkin pies, and I've seen Swedish meatballs being made, as well as Japanese pudding and a strange dish made from massive amounts of red cabbage (that'll be the German, of course). It should be a fun evening.

Christmas day I've been invited to dinner at Adrienne's house after I get off work, so it'll be two days of feasting for me.

Tomorrow marks the first of 9 straight days of work, including 6 days straight of 8-4 shifts. I'm gonna be worn-out and itching to ski two weeks from now. Hopefully I'll be a little richer too.

Best wishes to all for the holidays!! May the cookies be succulent, the pies symmetrical, the trees dusted with snow, the carols in-tune, and the company cheerful, well-fed, and entertaining.

Merry Christmas to all!

D.O.A.

In all honesty, the approach to the large couloir affectionately known as D.O.A (Dead On Arrival), was more dangerous than the skiing itself. The 40-minute bootpack to access the out-of-bounds chute ends in what today was a somewhat hairy traverse. Right above the entrance to the couloir, the sun had baked the snow to an ice-slick so firm it was nearly impossible to hold an edge to traverse the 20 feet to safety. Had the consequence of a fall not been a 500 foot slide punctuated by rocks and ice, we probably would have skied across. However, we had to pop off the skis and use our boots to punch through the icy sun-crust to the soft snow below. The three of us, Chelsea, Paul and I, got across safely and clipped into our skis to begin the descent. Paul chose this moment to tell us a story about the ice we had just crossed. He started off "I saw a man die once in this situation. He slip and fell maybe 500 meters down the slope." This, as we're about to enter a couloir named DOA.

I had no intention of skiing hard today. In fact, I slept in till 10, ate a leisurely breakfast and meandered over to the ski hill around noon. I planned on skiing alone for a couple hours, just taking it easy. Imagine my suprise when I showed up at the shop and Paul and Chelsea were ready to shred. So we skied DOA.

Skiing the couloir mandates some caution. The chute isn't all that steep, maybe between 35-40 degrees; nevertheless, a fall is dangerous--it would be easy to slide onto the rocks. Sideslipping is a no-no because the fresh snow can sluff on the lower icy layer and knock you or your companions over. At its narrowest point, the couloir is maybe 8-9 feet wide. Basically you just jump-turn your way through the narrow section until it opens up a little. Overnight wind had deposited about 1-2 feet of snow, which rested on an icy base, making the conditions a little tricky. On any given turn you were thigh-deep or on ice. In other words, it was really fun.

Unbelievable, really. By the time we reached the bottom, the big goofy grin stretched across my face was in danger of becoming permanent. After a week of skiing bulletproof, overcrowded groomers, this reminded me why I love skiing. Ah, it was spectacular!! We had sunny skies and knee deep snow, 20*F on the thermometer and good company.

Gondi-Tastrophe

Apparently the news of the Blackcomb Gondola crashing to the ground has reached ears around the world, so here's the local account of the story. Tuesday afternoon I was skiing with my boss, Sam. We rode the Blackcomb gondola around 12:00pm and took lifts to the Horstman Glacier near the summit of the peak. From there we hiked for 45 minutes to ski a chute in the Blackcomb backcountry. After descending the chute over wind-crusted quad-burning snow, we took a narrow cat-track back to the frontside. As a side-note: there isn't even enough snow here at the moment to ski to the bottom of the hill. Instead, one must ski to the gondola and ride the lift down. It's severely anti-climactic. Anyway, there was a long line to board the gondola, so we decided to descend to the mid-station of the Blackcomb gondola and download from there.

Skiing the rock-littered descent, although bad for our skis, probably saved us from sitting in a gondola car for upwards of two hours. Basically, one of the lower gondola towers cracked in half. Here is Whistler/Blackcomb's account of the incident. They sent this email to season-pass holders.

WHISTLER BLACKCOMB OPERATIONS TO RESUME FOLLOWING BC SAFETY AUTHORITY SECONDARY INSPECTION

December 17, 2008 – The British Columbia Safety Authority (BCSA), BC’s independent auditor on passenger ropeway systems, has given approval for Whistler Blackcomb to continue regular operations on its mountain lifts, with the exception of the Excalibur Gondola.

“Preliminary inspection by BC safety officers has determined that this was an isolated incident of water contamination in a tower tube which caused a tower joint flange to fail due to ice jacking,” said Greg Paddon, safety manager from the BC Safety Authority. “There is no justification at this time that other installations operating at Whistler Blackcomb have been effected by a similar failure; the BC Safety Authority does not anticipate rescinding operating permits on any lifts currently operating at Whistler Blackcomb other than the upper and lower Excalibur Gondola. Investigation into the incident continues on both the lower and upper Excalibur Gondola; these installations will not return to service December 17, 2008.”

Tuesday afternoon at approximately 2:30pm, a structural failure on tower 4 of the Excalibur Gondola caused the gondola to cease operation. All gondola cabins remained on the line; however a number of the cabins dropped approximately 30 feet with the sagging span, and two cabins hit the ground, injuring several people. Twelve guests were treated at the Whistler Medical Clinic and all walked out on their own accord later that evening. A total of 53 people were evacuated off the affected lower line of the gondola. The evacuation was completed by 5:51pm.

Several factors converged to cause the tower failure. The structure of the tower is such that two parts are spliced together. Water had seeped into the tower which had turned to ice with the recent extreme cold temperatures. The ice build-up caused the tower splice to rupture, an extremely unusual situation referred to as “ice-jacking”. Further investigation by a team of lift manufacturer and independent engineering experts will take place early afternoon today.“

As always, our top priority is for the safety and well-being of our resort guests and employees,” says Doug Forseth, senior vice president of operations. “Whistler Blackcomb delayed opening some of our lifts this morning until the BCSA confirmed our findings from last night. After the work conducted throughout last night by our own lift maintenance team, and a secondary inspection that was completed by the BCSA, access to all our operational lifts, with the exception of the Excalibur Gondola, is expected to be available by midday.”

Following BCSA’s inspection, the following lifts are now clear to open: Emerald Express, Big Red Express and Franz’s Chair, in addition to the Whistler Village Gondola and the Creekside Gondola on Whistler Mountain. Wizard Express, Solar Coaster and Excelerator on Blackcomb. Crews have now moved to the Jersey Cream Express and Glacier Express on Blackcomb and both those are expected to be cleared shortly.

The Excalibur Gondola is a Doppelmayr lift, and was installed in 1994. A world-leader in lift design and manufacturing, Doppelmayr lifts are in operation throughout the world and their safety record is excellent.

Right Foot, Cold Foot, Blue Foot, Oh S*^$

This week started off on the right foot. Unfortunately, Monday's bitter cold made it near impossible to tell which foot one was standing on, them being completely numb and all. The cold is ironic, actually, considering that for so long we were plagued with warm temperatures that sent rain to the highest elevations of these costal mountains, obliterating the little snowpack we have and sending skiers and snowboarders alike into spiraling waves of depression and negativity. Ironic because, at these temperatures, it's too cold to snow.

Cold and Dark, that's my December. The sun hasn't even seen fit to rise properly like it should. Instead it just lolls indolently amongst the craggy peaks that form the Whistler horizon, like an insolent child who's been sent to his room peering around the door down the hallway to make sure his mother isn't watching. When the sun does decide to show its face, it casts that crisp low-angle light that highlights even the most subtle contours of the slope. The lines between light and shadow are mathematically precise--majesty reduced to numbers. It's as if one were skiing through an Ansel Adams photo revamped in Technicolor and remastered with THX digital surround sound (wwWWWaaaaaAAAAAAAAA). Aesthetics aside, this is no Colorado-esque sunshine that browns the face and whisks away the chill of winter. The warm tones of the orange-tinted light are a clever disguise for the bitter cold of midwinter.

Make no bones about it--December has been cold. It's the kind of cold that crackles when you walk through it, like you're shattering microscopic layers of the finest frozen vapors suspended in the air. It's the kind of cold that makes you wish you could make like Michael Jackson and temporarily relocate your nose to your pocket so that it not be frosbitten into oblivion by the biting wind on the chairlift. It's the kind of cold that makes you second-guess the desire to whiz in the woods--accidents can and will happen after all. Better to head for the lodge to ensure everything runs smoothly. It's the kind of cold that prevents the removal of ski boots pending a 10 minute warming cycle in the restaurant. It's the kind of cold that makes you wish you could grow a beard like Grizzly Adams', instead of one that resembles Havarti cheese (in pattern, not texture). It's the kind of cold that is very, very cold.

Even the cold air has its perks (nipples not excluded), and the cold front has brought remarkably clear air. The visibility from the peak is unparalleled. In all directions, glacier-encrusted peaks yearn skyward, begging to be climbed and skied, pleading to have their avalanches triggered and their crevasses inadvertantly explored, their powder stashes pillaged and their itchy couloirs scratched by the steel edge of a ski. It is little wonder to me that so many young, driven, idealistic young people fall hopelessly in love with these mountains. Litle wonder, indeed. Don't worry though, mom; I'll come home someday.

Glitch

Ok, I have fixed the glitch with the movies from the "Lawn Aeration" entry, so everyone should be able to view them now. Sorry for the hitch.

Free lawn Aeration???

One fall day during college, Alex and I were bored. Boredom being a totally unacceptable state of existence, we invented a new sport.

At one point, the Shamrock house had 12 bikes stashed in the garage and on the back porch. Probably 4 of these bikes were in some level of disrepair. With so much raw material, I guess what happened next was probably inevitable. We took an old ski I had salvaged from the trash, and placed it on the ground. The ski kept the forks from burrowing into the soil at takeoff. Then we took the front wheels off two bikes, rested the forks on the ski, and popped a wheelie for as long as possible. When the wheelie ended, you endoed. Simple as that. In actuality it was quite difficult to pop a wheelie without a front wheel, the handlebars being so close to the ground and all. But, we eventually got the hang of it.....sort of.

That's all folks!

BORED?

Here are a few YouTube clips I've found interesting in the past month. Enjoy!

Impressive young Skywalker.



My parents forwarded this to me.



Sweet.



And an old classic.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

And it's about time, too. It's mid-December and it's finally beginning to snow. Until today the mountain was basically barren of snow excepting the three groomed runs filled with man-made snow. So far this season I've skied 8 days - 4 on alpine and 4 on telemark. Of those, two have been blower powder days, five have been on the worst snow I've ever skied, and one has been above average.

Just to get this off my chest, let me list several adjectives describing my feelings for man-made snow. Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad, crowded, scary, awful, sketchy, awkward, brutal, harsh, painful, like a sheet of glass, let's play hockey, rubbish. After the rain saturated the opening-day mind-blowing fluff, my ski days have been limited to one of three blue or green runs which are described by the aforementioned adjectives. I quickly came to understand the full extent of how spoiled Colorado has made me. Last year I skied 25 days, at least 20 of which were full-on powder days. Frankly, I didn't know snow could get so hard. I'd simply never seen it.

So, the past week has been interesting. It has been excellent for my technique, leg strength, and in spite of itself, quite entertaining and rewarding. I've gained confidence skiing impossibly bad snow on both my alpine and telemark equipment, and when the resort opens fully I will be strong and ready to rip. Also, my co-workers are, as I suspected, exceptional skiers and wonderful people. I have learned tons from them already, and if skiing this crappy snow can be so much fun, I can't wait till the mountian opens.

That said, today was spectacular. I skied with French Paul. French Paul is one of the three most interesting people I've ever met. He does and says things that I would never in a million years ever conceive of doing. He is an exceptional, and I mean exceptional telemark and alpine skier (he's lived in the French alps for four years so he'd better be). Needless to say, he's fun to ski with. Today we rocked the teles from 9-2 until our legs were screaming and we could scarcely walk to the gondola. It snowed all day, and FINALLY this is beginning to look like a ski resort. I finished the day feeling confident on my skis, and utterly worn out. SNOWSNOWSNOWSNOWSNOWSNOWSNOWSNOWSNOWSNOWSNOWSNOW!!!!!

Ok, it's for real this time, I swear. No, really, it is!

I moved again. I know I previously said I was done moving and settled in to the White Gold place, but now I'm out. In fact, last night I moved back into the deerhorn house where I was living before. The story reads as such:

I was sitting at home (in White Gold) watching the Simpsons when my phone rang. It was Kim from the Deerhorn house, asking me if the rumors I was moving back in were true. Having heard nothing of this I said "well, that would be news to me." Apparently, the exchange program that runs the house rented a second house in Bayshores, which freed up space in the Deerhorn place. Rico had given me a good reference and Chris had invited me to come back. He told everyone but me I was moving back in.

The good news is I like it here and it's good to be back. Also, the rent is substantially cheaper and they have a dishwasher. Also a sauna. The bad news is I share a room again and I'm 10 minutes driving from the village, 30 minutes on the bus.

Best be off!

Yes, I'd like a '99 Passat with a side of Quirky, please.

So in the six brief years that my car and I have been acquainted, she has shown me more quirky personality traits than I thought any vehicle could conjure. Quirky is definitely the proper word. I'm not talking about the type of heavy-duty baggage that could spell the end for a quality six-year relationship. Things like head-gasket failure, smoke from under the hood, the clutch burning out, the transmission exploding, chronic backfire, etc.--those are real deal-brakers. But the sheer number of subtle disfunctionalities is quite impressive.

I suppose it's kind of endearing really....someday I'm sure I'll miss the visor mirror covers that fall off every time someone tries to pop a zit in the passenger seat (and the duct-tape holding it in place), the CD player in the trunk that doesn't play CD's, the short in the dashboard that cuts the backlight to the temperature controls so that when I drive at night I can't see whether the defroster or the AC is on, the temperamental right-rear passenger-side window that only rolls down when it's warmer than 90* or when you stretch waaay back to use the control on the door itself, the emergency brake cover that comes off in your hand if you pull too hard, the cupholders that don't hold anything other than a can of beer or a child-size frosty, the driver's-side front speaker that must be thwacked soundly every Thursday at noon for it to continue to fulfill it's duties as a sound-emitting device, the volume control knob that occasionally BLASTS the volume when you try to turn the volume down, the passenger-side seat that is never quite comfortable, the random spring I found floating under the seat four years ago the function of which I have still not figured out, or the metal kabob skewer I rigged to hold the glovebox shut because one day the handle came off in my hand when I tried to access my drivers manual. I guess someday I'll miss those things. But for now, I'm just impressed with her newest trick.

This one really takes the cake. It first happened about two weeks ago, when it got really cold for several days running. I walked up to my vehicle in the parking lot, and inserted my key into the driver's side lock (I never use a remote--both because it takes up too much space in my pocket and because it got wet two days after I got the car and hasn't worked since). Anyhow, the key wouldn't go in. I tried flipping the key, jamming the key, the bit. No matter what I did, it would not go in more than halfway. Stumped, I walked around to the trunk and unlocked the car from there.

Two days later the lock started working just fine. In the following weeks, I tracked this phenomenon and have discovered the following: the problem only occurs when the temperature drops belos 32*F. Basically my car attempts to lock me out anytime the thermometer dips below freezing. It's accurate--I'd say within two degrees +/-. Of course, my point of reference for all this is the thermometer built into the car itself, which, for some inexplicable reason umbeknownst to me, I'm still disposed to trust.