Big Tim and I pulled onto the tarmac at Chino
Airport in Southern California not long after sunrise on a Monday
morning. The Santa Ana winds had blown the basin clear of the
usual haze, smog and urban atmospheric detritus that often obscures
the view. It was an awesome morning, and as we drove up we got
our first view of the Rockwell Twin Turbo Commander that was
to be our ride, taking us on a dream ski trip to Jackson Hole,
Wyoming.
This rendezvous had been proposed by Russell
Rainey as a winter follow-up to last summer's highly enjoyable
get together of the telemark and backcountry skiing media at
Mt. Hood, Oregon. A rendezvous of the Couloir, Off-Piste and
Tt.com crews that had provided all of us an opportunity to see
and ski the first production version of Rainey's HammerHead freeheel
binding and demo numerous other new products as well. BT and
I had also enjoyed spending some time with Dostie and Dave Waag,
so when Rainey sent around an invitation to an inaugural Winter
Media Conclave to take place at his home mountains we committed
early and solidly.
It was a trip we would not miss no matter
what, especially after reading the list of planned activities
which included an avalanche safety lecture by legendary avy expert
Rod Newcomb, a tour of the Jackson Hole backcountry led by Exum
guide and author Tom Turiano, who would be backed up by Nordic
Demo Team member Scott McGhee, who runs the nordic center there.
Also scheduled was a day trip out to Teton Pass, a ski day at
J-Hole for additional gear testing, and more. This Winter Conclave
would be an all-time trip if we could pull it off. But how do
we get there? Then the phone rang in the Tt.com World Headquarters
one morning. It was Len.
"Remember Kirk's buddy Mark who flew
the Mt. Pinos boys on that mega air-tour trip to Colorado last
year? Well, he wants to do another one. We were thinking of a
hut trip in the Rockies or San Juans ...wanna go?"
"Yep, count me in, but what would you
boys think about this?"
And then I told him about the Winter Conclave.
He said he'd run it up the flagpole and get back to me. A few
days of back and forth detail mongering and we were set. Mark
would fly us out in his company plane, Big Ed would secure transpo
at J-Hole, I'd deal with lodging and Big Tim would fulfill his
usual role, making sure we didn't run out of vodka and he'd ski
hard for the cameras. We were set.
Pulling up next to a hangar filled with Lear
jets we began to transfer our stuff from my ancient Tercel into
the Turbo Commander. The pilot knew right away that we might
have a weight problem when he learned that two of the four passengers
(excluding Mark who flew in the co-pilot's seat) had nick names
that began with the adjective "Big": six foot eight
Big Ed and two hundred forty pounds of telemark fury Big Tim.
The funny thing was that they were just part of the problem:
Len and I are both over six feet and not light-weights. And we
had a lot of skis.
After some deliberation it was decided that
we needed to off-load some six hundred pounds of fuel before
departure but the fixed base operator (FBO) guy in charge of
such things was still on his way in to work. So we hung out and
the excitement built. A traveler filled with Ketel One and mixer,
rescued from an already stowed backpack, was passed among the
passengers and all was good.
Eventually we piled into the plane after our
pilot, Rob, had shown us around the aircraft. He had lifted up
the cowling of one of the two turbine engines that generate 720
horse power each from a package only about two feet long. I looked
at my ski partners and realized how inefficient we were by comparison.
After the run-up we taxied out to the active
runway, received clearance and took off. High fives were exchanged,
"damn, we're heading for the Tetons boys!".
The Turbo Commander has large picture windows
in the passenger area so we enjoyed seeing the ground pass by
below at over 300 miles per hour. Mark and pilot Rob planned
on a Las Vegas stop to top off the fuel tanks so that we would
have plenty when we got up into the mountains. At one point we
tossed around the idea of a quick foray into town for some of
that special Vegas fun but the refueling process barely took
30 minutes and we were soon back in the air and on our way again.
It was still amazingly clear in all directions,
all the way to the next and only other city we flew over between
So Cal and Jackson: Salt Lake City. We were able to see the Cottonwood
Canyons, while the peaks of Alta and the surrounding backcountry
looked sweetly inviting. Further along, with the Great Salt Lake
to port and the highway to Park City off to starboard we remembered
that down below us the Winter Olympics were cranking up to full
speed this very day. Rob kept to a carefully prescribed flight
corridor, mandated for Olympics security reasons, and the military
F-16's we had heard about patrolling the skies above SLC were
thankfully nowhere to be seen.
Over Salt Lake City
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In what seemed like no time at all we could
feel the plane's nose dip just a bit as we began a long descent
into Jackson Hole and we spotted the Snake River twisting its
way through the flatlands below against a backdrop of big, really
big, snow covered mountains to the north. |
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Being unfamiliar with the area it was hard
for us to pick out what was what but there was no mistaking the
big peak ahead on the port side: the one and only Grand Teton,
a majestic sight and one of the most recognizable mountains in
North America, due in no small part to the fact that it is the
stylized model for the Paramount Pictures movie studio logo. |
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As we entered the pattern for Jackson's airport
the plane began to pitch around a bit in the wind. By the time
we turned onto the base leg--with the Grand filling the view
ahead through the cockpit windshield--it was clear we were in
for a rollicking ride down to the ground. And what an approach
it was. We were tossed around like a maple leaf during a 3-day
blow. But with Rob's steady hand keeping us dead on the glide
slope we rode that Turbo Commander right down onto the runway,
taxied up to the parking area and high fives were once again
exchanged, this time with a little bit of adrenaline inspired
whoops and hollers.
"Wow, that was one for the memory banks!"
"Nice work Rob!" Who shrugged it
off as just another day on the job.
"Holy cow, did you see those mountains
from the cockpit?"
We were all yammering with excitement as we
gathered by the plane so Rob could snap a picture of us with
the Grand Teton in the background. we were acting like little
boys at recess for the first time after a week of rain; we grinned
from ear to ear. Right then one of the people from the Jackson
FBO pulled up with our rental vehicle, a perfectly burly 4WD
Ford truck. We loaded our stuff, and piled in, pausing only momentarily
to haggle over who was going to "ride chick" in the
middle of the front seat. Only the first of many such good natured
squabbles to occur that week.
Stop at Teton Mountaineering to pick up some
demo T'2s for Mark. Hit the liquor store for more vodka and beer.
Tim, here's my Daytimer, call Rainey and let him know we're here.
Done. Eat a late lunch/early dinner. Check in the condo. Ok,
boys it's time to party. Somebody call Russell again. Says Eric
O. is here now too. Oops, we are late, let's roll, Rod Newcomb
is waiting to for us.
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So we packed back into the truck, found
our way to Jackson and over to the church hall where Rod had
already set up his slide projector and drawing board. As we shook
hands and introduced ourselves, I was almost dumbstruck. Here
I was in Jackson Hole meeting no less than a National Treasure
of backcountry skiing. A man who nearly every avalanche forecaster
and top backcountry guide in North America has passed under on
their way to wherever they were headed. A man who has been backcountry
skiing since I was 5 years old (I'm 45!!) and who has been guiding
folks in the Tetons since Kennedy was president. |
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A co-owner of Exum Guides and the founder/director
of the American Avalanche Institute, Rod has often been referred
to as the father of modern avalanche forecasting. In addition
he is in fact the father of Mark Newcomb, one of the more well
known "extreme" skiers through most of the extreme
era.
Sometimes when you come face to face with
a person like Rod Newcomb it's tough for them to live up to your
expectations. That was definitely not the deal here. Rod was
about the coolest cat you would ever want to be around. Some
highlights:
Q: "Rod, what would you say is the best
thing to have when traveling in avalanche country?"
A: "There is no doubt about it, the best
thing to have is a backpack full of two-pounders (explosives)"
Q: "Last year we set off a small slide
in a chute on our home mountain, it probably pales in comparison
to the ones you have seen..."
A: "Sorry to interrupt but I'd like to
tell you this, I've never seen an avalanche that I wasn't impressed
with!"
(Laughter)
Q: "Ok, but we have been debating among
ourselves how valuable an experience it was. One view is that
we were wrong to even be anywhere near the area...
A: "While it's not a good idea to seek
out dangerous conditions, any incident like that where you survive
and walk away unhurt can be a valuable learning experience if
you stop to think about what went wrong and what went right.
An important thing to always remember in avalanche terrain is
that weakness + loading = instability...always."
Q: "I have a snow metamorphism question:
sometimes after a snow fall and a period of cold dry weather
it feels like the powder "dries out" and becomes fluffier.
Is this really happening or is it just wishful thinking?"
A: "Often as the air temperature becomes
colder the bonds between the crystals become weaker. Even though
the water content remains higher than when the snow was freshly
fallen, it gives the impression of having "dried out",
but that's not really the case."
Q: "What kind of information do forecasters
rely on most to make their predictions?"
A: "Years ago forecasters developed what
we call the 'Data Triad' (draws triangle on board) with three
important information variables, they are weather, terrain and
snowpack. When we know what's going on with all three of these
parts of the equation then we have a better idea what might happen
on a given day."
On and on it went. To Rod, every question
was a good one, to us every answer and point made was like a
ray of light into the soul of the avy dragon. We would have loved
to keep Rod there all night and pick his brain, like starved
vultures who had found a rich meal of knowledge, we all knew
this was a golden opportunity to learn, but eventually it came
time to let this National Treasure go home. To a man,
we all agreed we would never forget this evening when we met
the genuine, 100% real deal.
Back in the truck. Who's riding chick? Hungry
again. Russell, how about Mexican? This way. Good food. Over
to Rainey's shop to mount some skis. Back to the condo. Hmm,
we still have little time to party before sleep. Open the Absolute.
Drink Lots of water before bed. Advil.
We did our best to get some rest before morning
because we knew we had a big day ahead. The plan was to meet
at the Jackson Hole Resort parking lot and head over for breakfast,
then catch the 8:15 guide tram to the top to begin our guided
tour of the J-Hole backcountry.
A little earlier when we were leaving Russell's
after our shop sesh he stuck out his hand and said "it's
good to see you guys, I think we'll have a fun time here this
week." To which I replied, "we're certainly off to
a good start, today was one of the best days of my life...see
ya tomorrow."
An awesome morning and afternoon had segued
into an unforgettable evening. Sleep came easily. Life was good.
Next: Part 2--The Jackson Hole
Backcountry
