Unexcused Absences

It’s hard to believe, but we recently completed our fifth straight ski season living and working at Beaver Creek, home to the industry’s most expensive lift ticket ($159). This year was completely the same, yet totally different.

Beaver Creek has hosted the World Ski Championships three times

The “sameness” includes working in the same departments (ski school and race operations) and doing the Monday Race Series and seeing all our usual friends (Greg & Susan, Guy, Praz, Megan, Elizabeth & Mike, Audri & Dimitri, Sean and Kevin) and shopping at City Market and visiting Crazy Mountain Brewery and living in Avon without a car. The difference was of course that Beaver Creek hosted the FIS Alpine World Ski Championships, as reported earlier. And I checked off my personal goals for the season of skiing 50 days straight without interruption (actually got 51) and 750,000 vertical feet (actually got 822,382).

This season’s numbers on the left, lifetime numbers on the right

But beyond the numbers, some really cool stuff happened this season. We met new friends (Jay, from the Korea 2018 Olympic Organizing Committee, and Jen and Geoff, a lawyer and artist trying out the ski bum life, and Steve and Sherri, refugees from Silicon Valley – Apple, Aldus/Adobe and Norton Utilities – who live in a gorgeous home in Vail). We had a chance to ski Beaver Creek’s “White Glove First Tracks” not once, but twice (courtesy of Heather’s ski school clients one day and our friend Megan who works for Guest Services another day). This is a program where wealthy people pay even more money ($125 on top of the $159 lift ticket) to load the lift an extra half hour early, ski for an hour in Larkspur Bowl, then retire to Beano’s Cabin for a light breakfast and hot chocolate. Both our days just happened to be powder days, as if first tracks on groomers isn’t good enough.

First tracks in Larkspur Bowl

We also pulled in a substantial haul of logo gear from the Championships. As mentioned in the previous post, I traded my 2015 jacket for an awesome Colmar French Ski Team jacket, but we also collected hats, goggles, shirts, sweaters, gate panels, sweatshirts, mugs, water bottles, posters, a complete ski outfit, and the big stadium banner (which we’ve already hung on the wall at the weekend house).

Partial inventory of our haul of free stuff from the World Ski Championships

The best gift of all was from Mother Nature. She mostly held off with the snowfall during the Championships, then opened the heavens for 13 out of 17 days immediately following. Working a race is doubly bad when it snows, because we have to a) spend the day shoveling snow off the course, and b) do so while mad that we can’t be out skiing the fresh snow. So other than one day (Feb 5), when we shoveled for several hours in a valiant but ultimately doomed effort to prepare the track for the ladies’ Super G race, we had a blissfully snow-free race fortnight. And she really smiled on us at the end of our season, because we woke up on our final day to a full foot of fresh snow. To put that in perspective, the total snowfall through the end of the season, after our departure early March, was only about one and a half feet. Someone was really looking out for us.

Screenshot of the Beav’s snowfall history, courtesy of OpenSnow.com

And speaking of fresh snow, on our second-to-last day (March 3), after our White Glove First Tracks and our Beano’s Cabin mini-breakfast, three of us headed over to the Stone Creek Chutes to see what was cooking there. We found some nice deep snow, quite a bit more than the reported 7 inches, so we lapped the Chutes a few times before lunch. Such an amazing almost-end to the season. Our final day, March 4, we actually skied in Vail with our friend Praz as our personal tour guide. We gave the back bowls a good workout and he knew enough secret spots that we were still skiing deep powder after lunch.

Taking my French Ski Team jacket for a cruise in the Stone Creek Chutes

So that wraps up our fifth season at The Beav. We are so glad we did this while (somewhat) young. We both agree that it’s something we should have done in our 20’s, but maybe it’s even better doing it in our 40’s – we don’t have to live in poverty, packed four to a room with a bunch of pot-smoking dropouts, and I suspect we appreciate it more at this mid-life stage. We are more than a touch misty-eyed about this season in particular, because we will be taking a year off from skiing and hope to spend the winter of 2016 in the… well, stay tuned, I’ll share all the details soon.

Snow showers and sunshine at the Spruce Saddle Lodge

My Race Department “office”, the EpicMix racecourse

The snowstake (showing 12 inches) at 5am on our final day

With Megan at Beano’s Cabin

They serve everyone at Crazy Mtn Brewery

The Stone Creek Chutes

Possibly our last skiing at Beaver Creek for over a year

The good news is we’re back in France aboard our canal boat Après Ski. The not-so-good news is that it’s been raining cats, dogs, and rodents for a month. The ground is saturated and the rivers are completely full (when they’re not actually in flood). In hindsight we could have delayed our arrival for a couple weeks and joined our friends vacationing in St Martin right now (hi Barbie, Sarah and Jeff!).

Après Ski during the one hour of sunshine so far this trip

Still, in the interest of maximizing fun, we’re working with what we’ve been given. Our plan to travel north on the Nivernais Canal to the Yonne River to the Seine River to Paris to Champagne to Dijon this summer still has some uncertainty because of the continuing rain, but things are better now than they were five days ago. When we arrived there were three distinct obstacles to our cruise; the Nivernais Canal to our north was blocked due to some winter repairs that had been washed out by the flooding, the Seine River was in major flood because of heavy upstream rains, and the Nivernais Canal to our south was blocked because the Loire River was in flood (the Loire Canal is a potential alternate route to Paris in case the Nivernais remains closed).

Ted in front of the floodwaters, Clamecy

But now the repairs to our north have been re-repaired, and the Seine is dropping to a manageable level. However… the new uncertainty is that the Yonne River is now in flood, and because the Nivernais Canal sometimes shares a channel with the river, the Nivernais is once again closed north of us due to a particularly dangerous river crossing.

Our friends Ted (the Minister of Leisure) and Todd joined us a few days ago for a visit to “sunny” Burgundy, where it proceeded to rain each and every day. For the first few days of their trip we moved slowly north on the canal. We visited such favorite restaurants along the way as the Auberge du Centre (mooring the boat in Montceau le Comte and taking the short jaunt into town) and the Hostellerie de la Fontaine (by car), finally arriving in Clamecy Monday evening. All the great food and cheese along the way kept our spirits up, even in the face of unending rain. With our rental car we visited the hilltop village of Vézelay, about 20 minutes away. Although it was raining (surprise), it is still a beautiful town, and we visited the big church and ate some savory crepes and toured a couple of the local wine producers, most of whom specialize in tasty un-oaked whites with a hint of flint.

Wine tasting with Raoul (left) and Luc

Tuesday we arranged a special wine tasting in Les Caves de Clamecy, our favorite wine merchant in western Burgundy. Luc set us up for a degustation of mostly local wines, and we all had a great afternoon talking about and tasting his delicious wines. We have a special relationship with Luc, as we were his very first customers a year ago when he bought the shop from the previous owner. And to make it even more special, Luc invited Raoul, the previous owner, to drop by that afternoon, so we all enjoyed a nice little reunion. Raoul, who we first met two years ago when he owned the business, speaks British English so flawlessly that it was only after all this time that we realized he’s actually French!

Raoul with his most favorite wine, a 2006 Montrachet Grand Cru

That evening we had a nice dinner at Les Deux Pieces, a place well worth the visit if you can get past the decor, which consists of a handful of cuckoo clocks and several dozen teddy bears of various shapes, sizes and colors. There are actually fewer teddy bears now than two years ago, even if some of them remain hanging in slightly disturbing manners from hooks in the ceiling. The owner/chef and his wife are delightful though, and we had a very nice relaxing evening. Wednesday our itinerary suffered a bit of a setback; the Yonne River had risen to a point that navigation was closed completely on the northern Nivernais. Rumor is that later this week there will be snow in the higher elevations around us (I guess we continue to bring snow with us wherever we go, see our previous post on the subject), so for now we will just stay in Clamecy and see what the weather brings. Odds are, more rain.

Another wine tasting in Vézelay

“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.

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

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!