Unexcused Absences

Last weekend I cross-country skied about 12 miles and 700 vertical feet. I didn’t necessarily set out to get this much exercise, believe me. Those who know me know that I’ll go to extreme lengths to avoid even the appearance of a workout.

Tennessee Pass Nordic Center

Unfortunately, my curiosity got the better of me a few weeks ago Saturday. We had planned a half-day with our friend Suzanne (who was visiting from Virginia) at the Tennessee Pass Nordic Center, with the idea that we’d snowshoe (Heather and Suzanne) or x-c ski (me) for a couple hours, then have a sit-down with tea before enjoying a long lunch at the Cookhouse with Ty and Roxanne (the owners), and head back to Avon late afternoon.  In my three previous trips to Tennessee Pass I had only done the shorter, wooded trails between the Nordic Center and the Cookhouse.  There is an entire section of cross-country trails that lie in the valley, hundreds of vertical feet below the main trails, that had piqued my curiosity.

The wife and the mistress

In hindsight it was pretty silly to ask Ty and Roxanne, who are incredibly in shape (they travel all over the western US to participate in almost weekly mountain bike races or x-c ski competitions), how long it would take to make the loop from the Nordic Center, down to the valley, around the big loop in the Fish Flats, then back up the hill to the Cookhouse for our 1:30pm lunch seating, about 2.5 hours from now. “Oh, you can easily do that in under two hours,” Ty said, “you’ve got plenty of time.” Note to self, with the benefit of hindsight; when Ty says some strenuous activity will take x amount of time, double it.

The start of the trip was lovely.  The trail sloped gently downhill, past a monument to the 10th-Mountain Division (who trained for WWII in these very hills), skirted the side of a hillside, then swooped down a gully and out into the Fish Flats area. You, the reader, probably noticed that the general pitch of the trail in my description above was downhill. I, however, am apparently not very observant. I checked my watch at the bottom, did a quick calculation, and figured that Ty was right on the money, that I’d be at the Cookhouse in plenty of time for lunch. If only.

Coke furnace ruins

I skated out into the flats past an abandoned train tunnel, looped through the field having a grand time, skiing, as before, slightly… downhill. At the very end of the loop, as far as you can get from the Nordic Center, were the ruins of an old coke furnace, which were interesting to see. Up to that point I was feeling great, not breathing too hard, and enjoying the day.  I took some pictures, then turned around and started back towards lunch with only a slight sense of hunger.

About 15 minutes later I was starting to breathe a little heavier, and noticed that my hopes for arriving early for lunch were maybe in jeopardy. No worries, I thought, I’ve been alpine skiing close to 50 days already this winter, I’m in pretty good shape. I made it to the base of the gully only a little behind schedule (and not a little winded), but still hoped to make lunch on time. Up the gully, which seemed much steeper going up than on my way down. Then a right turn onto Grizzly, a trail marked “most difficult” on the trail map. Roxanne had warned me about Griz, but said that the steep section wasn’t very long, and then it leveled out (relative to the steep part, I guess) and worked its way directly to the Cookhouse.

In the Cookhouse at last!

Hungry now, I started out on Griz, heading slightly downhill (breaking my “conservation of altitude” rule), then the trail swung left and I was looking at the side of a small mountain, with the trail going straight up. Uh-oh, I’ll probably be a few minutes late for lunch. For those who have never tried it, cross-country skiing straight up a steep hillside is a W-O-R-K-O-U-T. At the top of the steepest section I kept looking ahead to the point where it “leveled out” (according to Roxanne) but that point never came. The trail just kept going up. And up some more. Then around a bend, and… up.

By this point, it was well past 1:30, I was starving, and still no sign of the clearing that would signal the approaching Cookhouse. I’m glad I didn’t have one of those watches with a heart-rate monitor built in, or I might have passed out just seeing the number. Yet my only choice was to press on, since I knew that four people were waiting on me so they could begin their lunch.

Lunch!

Finally, the clearing! Pick up the pace (still heading uphill of course), around a bend, and there, the temple to lunch, the Cookhouse! I stumbled in, breathing heavily. I don’t recall saying much for the first five minutes, I just focused on slowing my breathing and heartbeat. I think I had enough residual energy to actually ask for my lunch choice verbally, although there’s a chance I just pointed pathetically at the menu; I don’t recall.

The lunch was delicious (buffalo burger for me, pesto linguine for Heather), and the five of us had a grand time. I took out a trail map, added up my mileage, and discovered to my dismay that I had traveled over 18 kilometers, which hopefully will fill my exercise quota for at least the next two months!

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!

I-70 in Glenwood Canyon

Last weekend we took an Unexcused Absence from our life at Beaver Creek.  We left perfectly good, free skiing to go to another fancy ski resort for some perfectly good, not-quite-free skiing.  Aspen is a very well-known resort area for the rich-and-famous, so we planned a 3-day weekend and drove the two hours to see who we might know.

Heather, Sudi and Eric sledding on Smuggler's Trail

First on our list of people to see were Eric and Sudi, who we met in Burgundy, France, a couple years ago.  They live part of the year on their ~80 year old canal boat, Oldtimer, and part of the year in Aspen, Colorado (editor’s note: we want their life).  We all took a nice hike above the Smuggler Mine, then had a hoot-and-holler sled ride back down the trail.  We continued with dinner at the Red Onion (delicious!) and then spent Friday night at their place (thank you!).

Town of Aspen seen from the downhill racecourse

Saturday we found our longtime friend Shep and his son Scott on Aspen Mountain, preparing for a series of NORAM downhill ski races.  We skied, watched Scott take a training run on the downhill course, skied some more, then checked into the Tyrolean Lodge (a nice room with kitchenette) and hosted Shep and Scott for a “field conditions” dinner (fettucini alfredo, Italian sausage and green peppers – yum!) cooked on a hot plate and microwave.

Our friend Scott during Sunday's training run

Sunday was basically a repeat of Saturday, except that we checked out of the Tyrolean Lodge, and got to ski with Scott and his buddy Conor after their Sunday training run but before the afternoon coaches’ debrief (Scott is on the US Ski Team). And this is where this story really begins.

Lots of people ski. Some ski very well. We have seen some amazing skiers at Vail and Beaver Creek, and have taken lots of PSIA clinics from some incredibly gifted instructors this winter. Scott, however, operates at another level. It’s only barely recognizable as what the rest of us know as “skiing.” I now, sadly, realize that I know almost nothing about the sport I’ve loved for 40 years.

My first mistake, arriving at the summit, was saying to the boys, “you’ve only got a couple hours to free-ski, so you choose where you want to go.” My second mistake was that we happened to be at the top of a big, steep, ragged mogul field.  I figured (wrongly) that since Scott was wearing brand new Atomic 191 GS race skis, and Conor was wearing brand new Rossignol 216 downhill race skis, they’d want to stick to groomed runs. Sometimes I’m just blissfully unaware of my own ignorance. Scott said, “then let’s do the moguls, you go first,” at which point Heather and I began demonstrating our best PSIA-approved mogul skiing technique.  I thought I was moving right along, until I was aware of a presence behind me, and I turned to see Scott about 5 feet in the air, moving downhill way too fast for what is actually possible.

Now most of you have probably seen the World Cup mogul skiers in the Olympics. They zip straight down a mogul run, their legs and knees furiously pumping, trying to beat their competitor head-to-head down the hill. Just watching them makes me exhausted. Scott and Conor, though, have a simpler technique. They don’t bother to slam into each mogul. They just skip off the top of a bump, fly over the peaks of the next few, then skip again, and they do this at about 40 mph. Scott in particular makes it look about as difficult as breathing. I turned to Heather and asked in disbelief, “did they just straight-line that mogul run?”  “I think they did,” came the reply, “but it was too fast to really tell what they did.”

Scott and Conor patiently waited for us at the bottom, where I re-confirmed that Conor was on 216cm skis (normal humans, as well as World Cup mogul skiers, use skis that are quite a bit shorter). Then, they were off again, this time using terrain features such as gullies, ridges and hills as launching pads for various aerial exploits. At one point, we were on a medium steep, groomed gully, and a very steep mogul trail intersected our slope from above and to the right. Scott was doing over 60 mph, suddenly made a hard right turn, and then was skiing UP a mogul field, using a similar technique as before. At over 50 mph. People (mortals) on the slope stopped in their tracks and stared. He skipped off a few moguls, then hit the downhill lip of a cat-track and launched, sailing about 20 feet in the air, still traveling uphill (!). He landed, did a couple more mogul hops (still uphill), and finally came to a stop, grinning. He had traveled probably 80-100 vertical feet UP a steep mogul field.

Conor had to take off, and so we left him and picked up Scott’s dad for a few more runs. I grabbed my video camera, but the footage doesn’t do that first run justice. I think Scott toned it down a little while dad was around. Even though I don’t have the best moments on video, we had a fantastic afternoon. Scott (and Conor) clearly both love to ski. Many (most) racers take skiing too seriously, and never seem to have the joy of skiing baked into their soul. Scott is a skier first and a racer second, and we both hope that his attitude stays with him as he enters the grind of high-level ski racing.

Enjoy the short (~1 minute) video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dUEwMGM9158

Aspen itself wildly exceeded our expectations. While both Beaver Creek and Aspen are known primarily as ski resorts for the “private jet” crowd, the town of Aspen is a real town, not a fake European-style walking village. Not that there’s anything wrong with fake European walking villages, but at Aspen the town was there first, and the ski area followed. The town is rustic, yet has a Prada boutique in the same block as Boogie’s Diner. It’s also a skier’s mountain. The trail map says “none” next to “Easier Terrain.” Our impression is that The Beav is where rich people come to be pampered, and Aspen is where they go to ski.

Dr. & Mrs. V in Aspen

Copper Bowl, Aspen

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

COLD!

There was apparently a nasty dose of “wintery mix” in the DC area a couple days ago. The Facebook stream had lots of talk about multi-hour commutes, frozen roads, and sketchy driving conditions. This made me smile, when I thought back to our own “winter storm warning” here in Beaver Creek a few days ago.

Winter Storm Warning

I don’t have that much to report of any great consequence, other than a winter storm warning has different connotations when you live walking distance to a major ski resort. A few highlights of our day were a temperature of 1 degree (F), blowing wind and snow, and occasional whiteout conditions. This was certainly not like the days they depict in the travel brochures. One bright spot; the slopes were almost vacant.

Snow

We took the opportunity to familiarize ourselves with some of the more remote sections of the resort, and found some pockets of relative calm in the Bachelor Gulch and Arrowhead sections of the mountain. We finished up with a run down the Birds of Prey downhill course, which was definitely not so calm. The good news is that the normally severe left-leaning cant to the slope, which tends to suck the unsuspecting skier into the trees, was countered by the 40 mph wind coming up the hill, partially canceling out the effect of gravity and keeping one on a (relatively) straight line.

All is well now, as the forecast is for mild and sunny conditions for the next three days.