Unless you’ve been locked in your Justin Beiber love-cave, you know there is a good storm just beginning to drop its blessing on the Colorado mountains. Check the above screen grab to see the freight train of moisture coming off the Pacific–relatively warm temps and several inches of water on the way!
I trust you’ve all called in well tomorrow and you’ll be hucking the gnar on your rockered fat skis. No? Yeah, well, I’ll be enjoying the day on my regular gear, too, so I’ll look for you.
A few days back we skied Berthoud Pass for several hours in great conditions. Along the way, though, I witnessed two adventurous types skiing and riding alone. Fair enough–if you feel fine rolling the dice like that, I’m great with it. Problem was, the first guy was just about to begin his run from the weather station and before got going, he pulled out a beacon and switched it on. Huh?
I didn’t speak to him, except to say ‘hello,’ but I wanted to ask what the thinking was. I let it ride and that was the last I saw of him. Later in the day, another guy was just transitioning as we started down the “110s,” and in a similar vein to the previous dude, he deploys an Avalung and then makes his turns. Again, I let it go, but mentioned it to my ski partner. Down in the lot at Current Creek, a professional guide saw him slide in, ‘Lung out, and walked over.
I’m paraphrashing:
“Hey man, noticed you were skiing alone. What’s with the Avalung?” the guide asked.
Solo dude: “Well, today I’m only worried about little isolated features moving, not the whole slope ripping, so I just need to manage a bit of snow if it sloughs on me.”
Guide: “Oh, right on. I thought maybe you were wearing it because in case something happened, you hoped another party would dig you out.”
Solo dude: “No, nothing like that.”
Again, the backcountry is and should be a place free of too many rules and regs. If you’re not trashing it for anybody else, then I say ‘have at it.’ The guy’s thinking, though (and the previously mentioned snowboarder’s), is really interesting. An avy transceiver is the bare minimum for snow safety, while an Avalung is a fairly involved piece of safety equipment, right? Either one’s function, though, is absolutely dependent on the idea of companion rescue.
An Avalung is of zero use for sloughing snow, or blowing snow–that’s what a snorkel is for, though sadly snorkel-skiing is more of a wive’s tale in these parts than anything. Maybe in the Wasatch or Alaska, but on Berthoud–hardly. A beacon, when skiing alone, is nothing but a body-recovery device. Considerate in terms of your loved ones being able to exhume your body from its snowy tomb, but hardly much of a strategy for enjoying Christmas dinner with the fam.
Anyway, the more I ski in the backcountry and the more experience I get, the more I’m amazed at the stuff I see every weekend along the Front Range. I expect the Wasatch is at least as bad. It’s amazing there’s not a fatality every week of the year here!
So here’s my plea to play it safe: ski with strong teammates, folks with whom you’ve practiced self-rescue, and whom you trust with your life. If, for some reason (halitosis, an irascible nature, socioeconomic ostracism), you don’t have partners with whom to ski and you still venture out anyway, why not introduce yourself to a party nearby and ask ’em if they’d mind spotting you as you drop in? I mean, yeah, it’s kind of a backcountry party-foul, but at least then your Avalung and beacon aren’t going to waste. I’d have been happy to watch either of those guys ski their lines that day.
But anyway, if you are going to huck the gnar on your own, leave the safety gear behind, eh? It’s dead weight at that point!
Tomorrow? Yeah, Monday through Wednesday looks pretty rowdy. Go get some and let me know how it was and where you skied.
Me? I’ll be ski-basing the Diamond on Longs, so expect helmet-cam footage (if I survive). Right! One last screen-grab from Fireweather:
