Unexcused Absences

“Be packed and ready to leave tomorrow morning.” If I had to choose the eight words NOT to hear half-way through week-long Bahamas vacation, these eight would be at or near the top of the list. But the resort manager was quiet serious, and definitely made the right call. Out of nowhere, a hurricane had formed and was forecast to strengthen and mow right through the out-islands where we were enjoying a well-deserved break from our grueling vacation schedule. Wait a minute, that doesn’t sound quite right…

The islands of “Pipe Creek”

We had arrived with high hopes three days before. The forecast for the week was for perfect, late autumn, northern Caribbean conditions. We were also excited because the Minister of Leisure and his buddy were going to join us on the island in a couple days. For the first couple days the reality exceeded expectations; a leisurely breakfast, a cruise in the skiff to some exotic snorkel spot, a picnic lunch on a remote beach gazing out at the incredible turquoise water, some afternoon exploring, followed by sunset from the deck of our cottage, and a delicious seafood dinner at the Yacht Club.

One of the waterfront cottages

Our friends arrived on schedule Monday morning, and after a great breakfast we packed up the big skiff and set out for a drift snorkel a couple miles to the north. With each incoming tide, a huge volume of water flows from the deep Atlantic up onto the Bahama Banks, a several-hundred-mile sandbar that rises to an average of less than 10 feet from the surface. This in turn creates strong currents that bring clear ocean water in through “cuts” between the numerous small islands running along the east side of the Banks. And this makes for some challenging but amazing snorkel adventures.

Snorkeling in the Land and Sea Park

We motor the skiff right up to the opening of a cut, then kill the motor and jump over the side. Tied to the boat as it drifts quickly westward, we fly over the shallow reef at speeds approaching 4-5 knots. The sensation is like watching one of those IMAX flying movies. After covering a mile or so in 15-20 minutes, we’ve drifted from the reef onto the sandbar, and climb back into the boat to search for the next snorkel spot. The kitchen at the Yacht Club provides fully stocked picnic coolers, so the biggest decision come lunchtime is which of the literally scores of secluded beaches to choose from. We select the little inlet at Twin Cay, wheel the skiff up to the beach, and drop anchor in two feet of crystal turquoise water.

Rachel’s Bubble Bath, Compass Cay

After lunch, we continue heading north through the Exumas to arrive at Compass Cay. There are any number of things to do on Compass Cay, one of the biggest islands in this stretch, and we choose the expedition to Rachel’s Bubble Bath. We park the skiff at a little inlet, then walk/slog our way upstream about a quarter mile until we reach the eastern edge of the island. The waves from open water crash against the cliff, and pour over a low wall into a large pool, creating a natural bubble bath.

Swimming pigs, no Photoshop necessary

On our way back to the Yacht Club we swing by Big Major Spot, home to the famous swimming pigs (really). On hearing our engine the piggies trot out of the brush, across the beach, and into the water. It’s a little surreal, one of those things you have to see in real life, but pigs really can swim, and they’re actually quite adept at it. They swim out to the boat but turn up their noses (snouts?) at our offering of Pringles. Normally we would have asked the kitchen for some scraps, but our visit was unplanned, so the pigs probably got less than they bargained for. Hopefully they enjoyed their swim.

The Yacht Club at dusk

Back at our cottage we relax and watch the sunset, rinse off the day’s salt water, and head to the Yacht Club for dinner. The seafood is truly fresh; a couple of local fishermen provide almost all of the supplies to the restaurant, and we feast on baked grouper and Caribbean lobster. We visit with guests at the neighboring tables (one couple from Germany actually discovered the resort because they heard about the swimming pigs!), and maybe squeeze in a couple games of pool, then head to bed, hoping that tomorrow would be exactly the same as today.

And then hurricane Sandy happened. Remember, on Saturday and Sunday the forecast was for beautiful weather. Monday there was talk of a tropical depression forming in the Caribbean Sea. By Tuesday morning the depression had become a hurricane, and by Wednesday morning we were boarding a tiny plane, as the hurricane was due to strike our island Thursday evening. Somehow scientists put all their faith in computer models that tell what the global temperature and sea levels will be 40 years from now, but models written by the same scientists can’t predict that a giant hurricane will form even four days in advance. But I digress.

The view from our second-story balcony, pre-hurricane

The wind was already building as the plane took off. With a 30 knot tailwind we made Ft. Lauderdale in record time, then spent the morning changing our travel arrangements. Our original plan was to fly back to DC on Sunday, but here we were in south Florida on Wednesday. In the “better to be lucky than smart” category, the big Ft. Lauderdale International Boat Show was starting the very next morning, and the Yacht Club gave us tickets to the show, so we spent a relaxing afternoon at the W hotel (thank you Todd!) and then had a very nice dinner up the street.

Ft. Lauderdale on Thursday

Thursday we went to the boat show, and were successful enough at pretending to be rich and famous that we scored an invite to come aboard a couple of the big (100 foot +) sailboats on display. By this time hurricane Sandy was not far off the coast, and south Florida was getting lashed with bands of wind and rain. The sheer dollar value of all the boats parked in the waterway was mind-boggling, and I’m sure the crews of these giant playthings weren’t stressed at all as the hurricane churned slowly by less than 150 miles away.

And then it was over, our fantastic and fun vacation cut short by a late-season hurricane. It was interesting to arrive home three days early from a vacation; friends and family still thought we were out of town, we had no plans or social engagements, and that gave us time to prepare for our third brush with hurricane Sandy, due to strike just north of us in a few days.

(use arrow keys or click the photos to advance slideshow)

Twin Cay

Welcome to Staniel Cay

The new hillside bungalows

Distant lightning

Freshly caught lobster

Waterfront cottages at the Yacht Club

School of goat fish

Snorkeling at Rocky Dundas

Drift snorkel

Healthy coral

Lionfish

Oops...

Plane wreck just off the beach

Storm clouds over Staniel Cay

The hurricane approaches Ft. Lauderdale

A very very nice sailboat

The salon inside a big sailboat

"New" vintage

Lots of expensive boats

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What a difference a day makes! Yesterday the Beav reported 9 inches of fresh, the first meaningful snowfall in over 10 days, and everyone in the valley must have called in sick. The slopes were packed! We got first chair up Strawberry Park Express (ok, actually more like 4th chair), and still only had three proper untracked runs. By our fourth run, everything on the mountain was cut up. No real complaints, mind you, we had quite the perfect powder field our first run down Yarrow, and our second down Larkspur was effectively fresh tracks, so it was nothing to sneeze at. This photo below (stolen from the official Beaver Creek website) was taken about two minutes before we arrived at that spot on Yarrow, where we saw them shooting this pic from the chairlift.

Our Pilfered Powder Pic from the BC website

But today was another thing entirely. Everyone who called in sick yesterday probably couldn’t justify a second day of *cough* powder skiing *cough*, so the place was practically deserted. The official report was only 2 inches, but that was at 5am, and by 8:30 the actual on-the-ground was more like 4-5 with the snow continuing, and in special places where the wind blows just right – that whole local knowledge thing – it was well over the boot-tops. I didn’t go to Stone Creek Chutes, but Drew (Race Dept) reported it was over his knees.

For those who care, a rundown of how to stay away from the crowds on a powder day. The key is that most expert skiers head directly to the Chutes or the Royal Elk Glades (the far edges of the resort). The visitors, most of whom are afraid of powder, head to the groomed runs off of Cinch Express in the middle top of the mountain. That leaves all kinds of advanced terrain in the lower middle ripe for the taking.

• First run, Centennial. Skier’s right on the upper pitch was completely uncut, then moved to skier’s left on the lower half for more untouched powder.
• Second run, Centennial again. Shadowed my tracks from the first run, then cut over below the terrain park and was literally the first person that day on a wide open powder field.
• Third run, Red Tail to West Fall Road to lower Peregrine, where I was the second person on the slope up to that point.
• Fourth run, Grouse Mountain, was again the second person of the day, this time on Screech Owl.
• Fifth run, up Birds of Prey lift and down Cataract, had mostly fresh lines on skier’s left.
• Six, back on Cataract, this time skier’s right, again mostly fresh lines.
• Seven, had fresh pockets again on upper Sheephorn and was literally the first person in the glade of Mystic Island (it was now after 10:30am).
• Eight, more first tracks, this time far skier’s right on Gold Dust. Traversed left over to Fools Gold, which was partly cut, then traversed over to Assay for more untracked powder.
• Nine, did the same loop as eight.

So through good luck and a little good management I managed to ski mostly untracked or lightly tracked snow for three full hours. There’s talk of yet more snow tonight, so we may score again tomorrow.

Oh, and where was Heather? She had her PSIA level 2 exam at Aspen today (she passed!), where they had a foot and a half of powder overnight. Makes my fantastic day seem downright trivial.

Sunday marked the start of the final countdown to closing day at Beaver Creek. On April 17 they’ll shut off the lifts, park the grooming machines (which have been running 20 hours a day since mid November), and put the 2010-2011 ski season to bed.

The "Taste of Vail" food-and-wine fest

Recent days have highlighted a few contrasts. Wednesday I returned to Colorado from the sunny and warm south of France (details to follow in a future post). Thursday and Friday we had blue skies, warm temperatures, and pretty good spring skiing. We also had a friend from Bryce stay with us a couple days. Our friend Susan gave us tickets to the Taste of Vail (unlimited free gourmet food, wine and beer), so like during the World Cup when she gave us VIP passes to the food tent, we were able to “live beyond our means,” if only for a couple hours.

Saturday was a last gasp of winter, with temperatures below freezing and slick conditions. Mid-morning, a third of the way down Larkspur Bowl, I looked up to see a red jacket with “ESF Meribel” embroidered across the back. Flashing back to our trip to the French Alps in 2008, I knew that ESF stood for “Ecole du Ski Francais,” and that Meribel was the village where we stayed at the Trois Vallees ski area. But what was a professional French ski instructor was doing in Beaver Creek, Colorado?

“Habitez-vous à Méribel?” (do you live in Meribel) I asked?

“Vous savez les Trois Vallees?” (you know the Three Valleys) he asked back?

“Oui, j’y étais il ya trois ans.” (yes, I was there three years ago).

Spring snowstorm at Beaver Creek base

We skied together for the rest of the morning, until he had to depart for the airport. Stèphane was at The Beav for a big travel industry conference, and had snuck out for a few turns his final morning before flying back to France. This was his first time skiing in the USA, so I took him on a quick “local’s” tour of Beaver Creek. He was amused to hear that I had just been in France 4 days earlier. He was also stunned to learn that Beaver Creek has almost 1,800 ski instructors. Meribel, where he works, is the biggest ski school in France, and they have about 450 instructors.

Top of the Sheephorn moguls

It was a shame he had to fly home Satuday, because Sunday we awoke to 7 inches of fresh snow, possibly our final powder day of the winter. At this point in the season we knew how to avoid the weekend powder crowds; we got second chair up Strawberry Park (instead of waiting in the 10-minute line at Centennial), over to lower Larkspur, then up Grouse Mountain for glorious first tracks down Raven’s Ridge, back to Larkspur for a couple laps in the bowl (still mostly fresh tracks), then up Birds of Prey and down Centennial/Sheephorn to Harrier (more mostly fresh tracks), and back up B.O.P. to Stone Creek Meadows (a few pockets of untracked here and there).

Fresh mid-mountain powder

A lap on Red Buffalo, followed by a run down Cataract, then over to Barrel Stave, Gold Dust, and a few final pockets of untracked on Assay. Not a huge day, only 17k vertical feet, but the conditions were getting tracked up when we left the mountain by 11:45am in time to grab lunch (free, courtesy of their ski instructor loyalty program) at Blue Moose Pizza.

Our front yard back in Virginia, this time last year

The biggest contrast of the week was when we got back to our condo. We studiously avoid the time-suck that is television, but once a year I treat myself to the Masters golf tournament. It was fun to sit by the fireplace, with snow coming down outside, and see the green grass and blooming azaleas of Augusta National Golf Course rendered in beautiful High Def color on the condo’s TV. Charl Schwartzel was one cool customer, shooting birdie on each of the last four holes to snatch the win from the much bigger names in contention.

This ski season has been a fantastic experience, but we are beginning to miss the green leaves and colorful flowers that are sprouting right now in the mid-Atlantic. One more week of winter to go!

With forecast highs in the 40′s, spring skiing has officially arrived! Fortunately, our crew chiefs from the Talon Crew saw the same forecast, and called us a couple days in advance. “How about a ski day at Vail, we’ll pick you up on our way from Grand Junction (a few hours west of here)?” So we gathered our gear, and arranged a ski day at Vail with Sean and Kevin.

Spring day at Vail

In return for free parking (Sean’s mother lives in the town of Vail), we offered to cater lunch (spicy Italian sausages) at the grill-your-own spot at the top of Blue Sky Basin. As an added bonus, my friend Adam happened to be in Summit County (about 45 minutes east of here) and agreed to meet us at Vail for the day.

And what a day! Absolutely cloudless deep blue sky from horizon to horizon, 50-mile visibility, and nice warm temperatures – remember my “Degrees of Cold” post from a month ago?

I can’t stress “warm” strongly enough. While I didn’t do that well in my chemistry courses, I do know at some basic level that cold weather is necessary for prime ski conditions. That doesn’t change the fact that I simply love spring skiing. Yes, the snow is melting. Yes, the ski season will soon be over. But my body is finely tuned to the tropics, and no matter how hard I try I just can’t get used to really cold weather.

So while this day marked the beginning of the end of our winter adventure, it was deeply appreciated nonetheless!

Dusk over The Beav

The locals were getting restless. We hadn’t had a proper powder day in several weeks, and then about ten days ago the rumors started floating. “Looks like it might snow next weekend.” “I hear it’s going to be big.” “The dynamics look good.” “This should last several days.”

Mrs. Vacation and I decided to take last Friday off and go to Vail, something that seems surprisingly difficult to coordinate, considering that we live about 5 miles away. There is no doubt about it, we are spoiled; we have slopeside lockers at Beaver Creek, and we can walk to the free shuttle bus that takes us directly to the slopes, so it becomes a whole rigmarole to ski anywhere else.  We have to drive up the evening before, unload our lockers, pile all the gear in the car, bring it all down the hill, organize everything for the next day, etc.  Spoiled.

Heather skiing Vail’s Outer Mongolia Bowl

We got first chair at Vail, so had already taken a couple runs by 9am.  The day started off sunny, but rapidly clouded over, and by 10am it was snowing.  We worked our way over the top of the mountain to the famed Back Bowls.  By 11am it was dumping.  We kept heading east, farther and farther from the main area.  We traversed a long way over to a small surface lift that served an area called Mongolia Bowl, then from the top traversed some more, way beyond what was reasonable to traverse.  By this time the snow was up to our boot-tops.  The tracks down the mountain became fewer and fewer.  At one point we had to climb a small rise, which apparently no one else was willing to do, because at the top we were rewarded with a pristine field of untracked snow!

Alone in Outer Mongolia

At the bottom we discovered one of the reasons the field was untracked; the traverse out was as long as the traverse in.  No matter, we had an untracked snowfield all to ourselves at a ski resort that typically sells 15,000 to 20,000 tickets per day! We made several more laps through Outer Mongolia, each lap a combination of trudge-trudge-trudge, followed by wheeeeee!!!, followed by more trudge-trudge-trudge.

Stone Creek Chutes, Beaver Creek

That day was just the appetizer.  The following day (Saturday) the mountains were reporting close to a foot and a half of new snow.  I had Race Department duties to perform, but Heather got out and reported some fantastic skiing.  It continued to snow all day and all night.  Sunday we got a little sunlight, but by afternoon the snow had started again.

Top of Larkspur Bowl, Beaver Creek

Early Monday morning found us at the top of Beaver Creek, witnessing something we had never experienced before.  The 6 or so inches of fresh powder were so light that you could barely feel the resistance against your feet and legs.  Heather described it as skiing through heavy air.  It was a really interesting and amazing sensation.  And the snow continued to fall.

Heather in Sun Up Bowl

Tuesday morning the mountains were reporting a foot of fresh, and still the snow fell (this was the 5th day in a row).  We headed back to Vail because I wanted to get something that I had been waiting since 1983 to have; first tracks down Vail’s Back Bowls.  We didn’t get first chair, but we were in the first wave, and because the back bowls cover thousands of acres, we found a 1500 foot untracked descent of Ricky’s Ridge in the endless sea of powder that is the Sun Down Bowl.

Kent skiing Shangri La

We worked our way east, skiing Campbell’s and Over Yonder in the Sun Up Bowl, then Sweet N Sour down into Tea Cup Bowl, several laps in Shangri La Glades (China Bowl), a run down Bolshoi Ballroom in Siberia Bowl, and then the trudge-trudge-wheee! of Inner Mongolia Bowl.  At this point Heather wanted a break, so we agreed to meet at Two Elk Lodge after one more run.

Hot Tub!

I had seen evidence of the wind blowing from the west during the night’s snowfall, so I figured the east side of the ridge, down in the hollow, would have the biggest snow drifts.  I’m happy to report that all my years of college were not wasted, my deductive reasoning was sound, and I found myself all alone in thigh-deep untracked powder.  It is totally worth it to devote years of your life to become a (somewhat accomplished) skier so you can experience a day like this one.

Finally, after 5 straight days of snow, the sun came out Tuesday afternoon.  Now all that’s left of the day was to enjoy the benefits of our condo’s hot tub!

Ball-o-Powder

Powder Day Lift Lines for First Tracks