Airborne
Monday morning, Jim and I headed over to the heli-skiing rendezvous point, bubbly and excited at the prospect of our first-ever helicopter snowboarding adventure. The company handed our avalanche beacons, pointed us to our lovely guide Paige, and bussed us out to the heliport, some ten minutes' drive outside Whistler. There, under threatening low clouds and with an increasing sense of foreboding, we got trained in avalanche procedures and helicopter safety. After about an hour and several scouting flights by one of the light choppers, the company told us they wouldn't be able to fly, and they drove us back to the resort. We didn't make it onto the slopes until almost noon, so we lost more than half a day. Even though the weather didn't look much better for Tuesday, we decided to try to fly again anyway.

We spent the rest of the day in the Symphony Amphitheater, a group of bowls and glades that we hadn't explored previously. Visibility at the summit was atrocious - five or ten feet sometimes, with flat light making what little terrain was visible very difficult to read. Once we struggled down to the bottom of the bowls, though, we found riding through the sparse trees to be quite enjoyable. Jim called one snowboardcross-like track the best run he'd ever taken!

The next morning, we were out at the helipad again, bright an early. The weather was considerably better, and everyone was excited. After a short repeat of the safety lesson, our group of eleven (eight customers and three guides) boarded the helicopter. The door closed, the rotor spun up, and suddenly, almost magically, we were airborne.

I'd never flown in a helicopter before. The feeling is quite different from flying in an airplane, at least a large one, and pretty amazing. The takeoff is imperceptible, and feels effortless somehow, despite the engine noise, but level flight feels labored. The feeling that the machine is not meant to fly is palpable from the inside, but from the outside they look quite graceful and the rotor's ability to hold up the vehicle seems reasonable. The flight was dramatic. The machine flew low and banked hard, so we frequently found ourselves staring straight down into the heavily wooded valleys below. After a short time, the trees thinned out and we found ourselves flying over the vast sheets of snow we were headed for. Finally, the copter slowed down and we realized we had reached our landing point.

Like takeoff, landing was completely imperceptible. As the engine speed was reduced slightly and the cloud of blown snow receded, we followed our guide out the door and huddled on our knees in the snow just a few feet from the helicopter. On the other side, another guide removed our skis and boards from the basket, then hunkered down as well. A few thumbs ups were exchanged, and the pilot lifted off in a huge blast of snowy air, then rushed foward and down over a cliff. Suddenly, everything was silent and we were standing on top of the world on an infinite field of snow.

Snowboarding in these mountains was like nothing I've ever done before. I'd ridden in powder, and getting around here wasn't basically different from that, but doing it on these vast, seemingly unending slopes, perched high above cliffs that dropped precipitously into the void, that was something new and very different. It took some time to become comfortable with the heights, but I followed our guide and everything turned out just fine.

We made four runs. At the end of each one, our guide would collect the skis and boards into a pile and crouch next to it. The rest of us would hunker down in a kneeling huddle perhaps ten feet away. With remarkable accuracy, the helicopter would set down between us and we would board. It was a sad moment when we got into those cramped seats for the final time. As we lifted off we could see our tracks coming all the way down from the distant top of the mountain, and it was hard to imagine riding anywhere else after that.
- posted by Joachim @ 9:00 AM

 
Glacier Assault
On our second day at Whistler/Blackcomb, we decided to check out Blackcomb Mountain. We had purchased Fresh Tracks tickets for the entire week, but switching mountains is no longer a problem due to the new Peak-to-Peak cable car. After a few runs on Whistler, we crossed directly between the main lodges and began our day at Blackcomb.

The first few runs weren't great. Most of the snow had been blown off the Seventh Heaven bowl, and we scratched our way down to the lift as best we could. After a bit of a wait for a lost team member, we headed back up to the top and tried going down the other way, to the bottom of the Glacier Express lift. Here we had lunch and prepared for the rest of our Blackcomb adventure. Our plan: to take on the Blackcomb Glacier!

The Glacier Express lift took us up to just above the bottom of the Showcase T-bar. Seeing the T-bar, Jon blanched and began muttering about the only thing he'd asked for on the entire trip was that we not ride a T-bar! Well, he and I had had some bad experiences at Breckenridge, but I was hoping things would work out better for us here. We got in line.

Don got on first, followed by Jim. I was a couple of places behind Jim, and Jon was a couple behind me. Unlike Breckenridge, they didn't make snowboarders ride with anyone else, which is nice because apparently we have only about a fifty-fifty chance of making it up the mountain even in the best conditions. I lined up at the gate, watching for the anchor-shaped bar at the end of the springloaded cable as it came up, fast. the lifty got it behind my front leg and I grabbed on just in time. The tension loaded up, and suddenly I was moving forward. I stumbled almost immediately, but got the board lined up straight, looked straight ahead, and was fine for the rest of the trip.

Not so some of my companions! Don was wandering back and forth along the track and looking shaky, but he managed to hang on longer than Jim, who went down less than halfway up the slope, which rises 150 vertical meters. He somehow kept his grip on the bar, spinning, flipping, and kicking up a cloud of snow. Probably three quarters of the way up, Don finally snagged an edge and was down and out. As he collected himself and sat up, he got a close-up view of the spectacle of Jim sailing by on his back, still spinning and kicking.

I made it to the top and tossed away the bar. Jon made it too, without any troubles - in fact for the rest of the day he kept recommending we take every T-bar we saw. We looked over a tourist information sign about the glacier while we waited for them to trudge up the steep hill - no mean feat at over 7,000 feet.


From the tourist overlook, we got our first view of the glacier, and it was impressive. My photos, taken with my telephone, really don't do it justice. It's just huge; a gargantuan bowl - large even by the standards of this giant mountain. It's just one enormous bowl full of snow, a huge playground. After taking a couple of snapshots at the edge, we dropped into one of our favorite runs of the trip. It went on for ever, of course - we covered six miles from the top of the glacier down to the lift - and the snow was soft and fluffy. Near the bottom Jim, Jon and I even ventured a bit out of bounds (not too far, though - we could see the tracks from people coming down from the ridge and back into the resort), where we found a wonderland of deep powder. The glacier run was simply fantastic, and we all felt like heroes once we'd done it!
- posted by Joachim @ 10:12 AM

 
Return To Whistler!

After a grueling 17 hour journey, my four friends and I finally arrived at Whistler Blackcomb ski resort last night. In the end, it was worth it. Whistler is as amazing as I remember -- maybe more.

We got up early this morning to use our "Fresh Tracks" tickets. The gondola took us up to the Roundhouse lodge, and also brought us together with our daylong companion, a snowboarding instructor I will refer to as "Bob". Bob's students hadn't shown up for their lesson, so he was free for the day, but in uniform. We decided to spend the day together -- travelling with him, we could skip the lift lines, but he couldn't get this preferential treatment by himself. We found the bargain to be heavily in our favor, because in addition to skipping the lines, we also got the services of an experienced mountain guide, and even a few teaching tips, at no cost.

Our group includes snowboarders with different skill levels. Jeff and Don are relatively inexperienced, while John, Jim, and I are more accustomed to riding in powder and steep slopes. This became an issue because of the fantastic snow conditions on the mountain. There's a lot of deep powder as a result of some enormous snowfalls over the past week. Don and Jeff did quite well and are improving rapidly, but they found the deep snow taxing. Mostly it wasn't an issue because most of the bowls here have trails running through them, but we did encounter some difficulty heading down from Whistler peak through the Cirque, a tiny notch of a trail cut into the side of the mountain. I got a picture of Jim and Jon descending into the bowl, but unfortunately didn't snap a shot of Jon walking back up from the precipice that nearly killed him. Luckily he went first and waved me off, so I had a relatively safe trip back down to the lift.

We have really been enjoying our stay so far. The condo is spacious and located very near the lifts (and everything else), and we have been taking full advantage. So far the amount we've spent on beer and food has been a bit excessive, but then again, we're on vacation!
- posted by Joachim @ 2:21 AM

 
Bond Cliff Hike
This weekend Don and I undertook another overnight hike in the White Mountains. Destination: the Bond mountains - Mt. Bond, West Bond and the Bond Cliffs, all 4,000 foot peaks on Don's peak-bagging list. Along the way we would also hit Mount Zealand. Here's my report on the hike, along with some of the few pictures I managed to take. Next time I promise more photos!


As we drove up into the mountains on Saturday morning, the radio and internet were abuzz with bad weather reports. According to some weather forecast I dug up on the web, we expected to see heavy rains and 45-mph wind gusts at the summits. And certainly, the clouds in Franconia Notch looked ominous enough.


We continued on, a little nervous, but happy that we would probably be the only ones out there. Surely nobody else would be dumb enough to hike up a mountain when there would be no views, miserable rain, and howling winds. Imagine our surprise when we reached the parking lot at the head of the Zealand Trail and found it chock full of cars!

An hour's walk up to the Zealand Hut, pleasant except for an incredibly steep climb just at the end, led us to a huge crowd of people. It looked as though all the cars were just getting people up to the hut. In fact, from the hut until we reached our destination, the Guyot shelter, we saw only two other people on the trail.

The steep hike to the summit of Mt. Zealand led us to an unremarkable clearing in the woods that we could only tell was the summit because a sign there said so. We stopped and ate lunch. My pack, weighed down with a tent, felt like an anvil strapped to my back. The food helped, though, and we continued on, across a ridge to Mt. Guyot.

The terrain at the top of Mt. Guyot is called an "Alpine zone" but to me felt more like a lunar zone. The fog cut off any possible view, but lent the area a mysterious, even eerie feel. After a bit of hiking through the blasted heath, and as I was starting to have difficulty keeping my footing due to fatigue, we found the sign for the Guyot shelter. The stair-climb down to it was exhausting and scary, but we finally got there and ditched our packs. There was a tent set up on one of the platforms, but no one in the shelter except the caretaker.

Now carrying only small day-packs with some water and small sundries, we climbed back up from the shelter and assaulted Mt. Bond. We got to the top quite quickly and to our amazement, saw some actual people along the way - two women, presumably the occupants of the tent we'd seen at the shelter. The summit of Mt. Bond was nice enough but of course we couldn't see anything due to fog, so we didn't linger and instead headed for the Bond Cliffs, the second of our three destinations.

Turning a corner on the trail down to the Bond Cliffs, we suddenly broke free of the thick, short trees, and were greeted by a remarkable view. The trail ahead led down, then back up to the Bond cliffs, which were hidden by a mysterious veil of cloud. The entire valley was visible and glowing with warm red and yellow colors. For the first time on our trip, and to our complete surprise, we had a view!

The trail to the Bond cliffs was harder than it looked, and it took a while and a lot of our energy. The view went a long way towards relieving our pain and fatigue, however. With most of the weight off our shoulders, we moved quickly and made it to the summit. The cliffs are quite impressive, and the view was spectacular. Suddenly, the whole hike seemed worth it. The light was fading, though, and we were getting cold. We decided to leave West Bond for the morning and headed back towards the shelter.

We were warmly greeted by the two ladies we had seen earlier coming down from Mt. Bond. Tullia and Karin turned out to be excellent company, and they kept our long night at the shelter from turning dull. They even graciously shared some of their tea and their high-quality Canadian Liquor. Overnight the rain, which had been around all day, but light, finally stepped up a notch, but the shelter was perfectly dry.

In the morning Don and I packed up and headed off to West Bond, where we found a pretty, but fogged-in summit. Returning to the trail and our bags, we found sticks attached to them - a sign that the girls had gone on ahead. Although I was suffering a bit from under-nourishment, Don, who does not eat, raced on ahead and managed to catch them and slow them down long enough for me to grumpily catch up. We then hiked down together, enjoying each other's company. After a quick lunch at the hut, we stumbled down the rest of the way, past the many cheery and energetic tourist hikers who would never attempt to reach any of the peaks or enjoy the wonderful combination of solitude and comeraderie we had found on our Bonds hike.
- posted by Joachim @ 10:17 AM

 
I have traveled! Thus, you get a new travel blog entry, this time with some stunning photos taken with my iPhone.

Now I didn't go far or spend a long time, but on this trip I really felt like I was far from home - practically on another planet. I joined my friend Don on a late fall camping trip, which turned out to be a winter camping trip. It was my first winter backpacking experience and in fact, my first backpacking trip of any kind.

Don warned me to expect some snow (as much as three inches, he guessed) at the top of our planned destination, Mount Bond. The plan was to hike in seven miles to the campsite, drop our packs, then jog up Bond (another mile and a half) and back before nightfall. Then in the morning, we would hit Bondcliff, about the same distance away, come back to get our stuff, and hike the seven miles back out.

This all sounded like a pretty reasonable plan to me. After all, I just ran a half marathon, so walking ten miles in a day didn't sound like a big problem. I was a little worried about the weather. What if there was snow? I don't own a pair of hiking boots, so I was planning on doing the trip in my low-cut hiking shoes. Also, I didn't have a lot of great clothing to wear if it got cold. But this was all just contingency planning - I was worried about a freak storm blowing up or something. From Don's description of the weather I knew I wouldn't have any serious problems. After a quick trip to REI, I had a new fleece sweater and pants, and a pair of gaiters to keep any stray snow out of my shoes. A friend at work happened to have some poles in his car, which he loaned me. I was ready.

On the way up, I pointed to a mountain. "Looks like snow up there," I said, but Don was skeptical. "No, that's just light-colored rock," he corrected. We kept driving. "That sure is an ugly-looking cloud". "Yeah, but it looks like it'll be clear over the mountain," Don said, and five minutes later turned on the windshield wipers. The snow started piling up deeper and deeper at the side of the road; first just a dusting but soon enough two, then three inches. Finally we arrived at the access road:

Hm. It certainly looked snowier than we expected. We got about a quarter mile up the access road before the car got stuck and I had to jump out and push us out of a pile of snow. These were not exactly the dry fall conditions I'd been expecting. Don didn't like it either, so after a little discussion, we decided to hike up a different trail, to Mount Garfield. It's a much shorter trail - only five miles to the camp site, which is near the summit.

We started suiting up and I immediately noticed that Don was equipped with ice climbing boots (and crampons), waterproof gaiters that went up to his knee, and at least three pairs of gloves, including one gigantic pair with wind-proof, waterproof mitten around a thick fleece glove. I had my fingerless gloves and a pair of cycling gloves, because I'd worn my ski gloves as part of my Halloween costume and left them someplace. I was starting to feel ill-prepared for this trip.

Up we went. The gigantic backpack I'd borrowed from Don had about twenty-five pounds of gear in it, at least a third of which was the enormous sleeping bag I had also borrowed from Don. At the last minute, he decided I'd better take the -20 degree bag rather than the 25 degree bag, which would have been much lighter, and not taken up half the space in my bag. I would be glad to have the big bag later, though.

The trail meandered gently upward through a snow-laden pine forest. The snow had been packed down pretty well by earlier travelers, so the going wasn't that tough. The swaying weight of the bag caused some pain in my hips as they tried to compensate, but for the most part I was comfortable. The sun was trying to burn through the clouds, and a very light snow was falling. We warmed up quickly.

Also ascending were a group of five hikers, laden down with an enormous amount of luggage. Each of them was carrying a bag easily twice the size of mine, which was somewhat larger than the bag you can see Don carrying in the picture. We had spoken with them at the bottom and they'd told us that somehow, despite their huge packs, they were not carrying tents. Apparently they were counting on there being room in the shelter.

We continued upward. We got to a scary moment about an hour in when we had to cross a small stream. My shoes claim to be waterproof but they're not tall enough to let me walk through more than perhaps two inches of water at the most. With a lot of careful stepping, I managed to find enough rocks above or just under the surface to make it across with my feet dry. After that, the trail became steeper. Soon we had stripped off a layer or two and were hiking in just our shirts.

The steep part of the hike was taxing. The trail switched between packed snow and a small stream bed. I was wearing Yak Trax traction devices on my shoes to try to avoid slipping on ice, but they were more a hindrance than a help, since they kept slipping off my shoe and having to be reset. I can't really recommend them for hiking, although they are probably great for shoveling driveways.

After perhaps three hours, we started to feel like we were getting close. We could see more sky through the trees all the time, and the branches were looking less snowed-on and more iced over. The trail was getting harder, though. The snow depth increased to perhaps six inches, and I noticed a substantial amount of ice building up on my pants legs (I wore them outside my gaiters because the gaiters weren't tell enough to keep the snow out).

Kicking through that snow, with uncertain footing and the pack weighing me down, was exhausting. We started taking thirty second breaks every five minutes or so, just to catch our breath. It was getting colder, too. With just a long undershirt and my long-sleeved running shirt on, I was starting to feel pretty chilly. We expected to see the shelter around every bend, but it remained stubbornly out of view.

Finally, a sign! It told us the shelter was to our left, where an unbroken, snow-covered trail dropped off steeply. We took a break here and, when we heard the five hikers catching up with us, decided to let them blaze the trail. Only four of them showed up - it turned out one guy had decided he couldn't make it and had taken their tent (apparently they had one, at least) and camped out on the hillside. The remaining four guys headed down ahead of us to the hut. After letting them get some distance, we followed down the treacherous trail.

I had been appreciative of my friend Gordon's poles on the way up, where they helped me balance with the unwieldy pack on my shoulders. But now they kept me from going down the trail on my butt. It was just far too steep and slippery to make it without being able to stabilize yourself with the poles. I didn't plan on taking any, but now I think they may have saved my life!

A sign at another turn-off promised, again, that the shelter was near. On the way there we found an outlook point and I snapped a photo of the only view we got on the trip.
The hut was nearby (why didn't I snap a photo?). It was designed to sleep twelve people lying side by side, so it was perhaps 8'x40'. One wall was half open, making an entryway. The four hikers nailed up a tarpaulin over this entrance, and soon enough the interior of the hut warmed up to a cozy 35 degrees. It was 2:30 in the afternoon, so we had a lot of time to kill.

It turned out what the four guys had in their huge packs was food. They'd brought steak tips, a pork loin, sausage with pepper and onions, bread, cheese, pepperoni, home-made beef jerky, and french toast sticks for breakfast. Not to mention a bottle of rum, a bottle of Patron tequila, and a case of Bud Light. Don and I had a freeze-dried pasta pouch and several Powerbars each, along with two liters of water and a bottle of Gatorade. The food-laden hikers didn't want to carry anything more down with them than they had to, so they were happy to supply us with leftovers. Tasty stuff!

Two more hikers showed up, and we all started settling in. Time passes slowly in a dark hut with nothing much to do, and at one point, rather incongruously, there were three video iPods going simultaneously. I watched an episode of Heroes, after which I was pretty tired, so I bundled myself into my bag (with my boots and some other clothes I wanted to be warm the next morning) and got to sleep. The bag was quite warm, but the floor was hard and there was a lot of noise, so I didn't get a lot of sleep. Don and I got out first in the morning, leaving at a surprisingly late 7:30. Our plan: head back to the trail juncture, drop our packs and reach the summit before heading back down.

The path to the trail juncture was incredibly difficult. Icy rocks lay under six inches of snow, and after the hike the previous day, I was exhausted. Somehow I had managed not to eat any breakfast. Still, it was a pretty short trip, and when we got back to the main trail I gulped down half a Powerbar. We left our packs in the snow and headed up. Without the weight of the bags, the trail was much easier to navigate. Aside from occasional tall rocks that had me worried about keeping my footing, there were no problems. We finally reached the summit, but an early morning haze obscured our view. I put up my hood to keep out the light but frigid breeze, ate the other half of my Powerbar, and basked in a mild but still enjoyable feeling of accomplishment. Then we headed carefully back down the trail, picking our way down through the icy rocks with our poles.

After we picked up our packs, the trip down the mountain went incredibly fast. The snow-covered incline which had been so exhausting on the way up was soft and forgiving on the way down. We were nearly running in some places. The hike up had taken us about four hours, but we made it back down in two. When I saw the stream crossing, I merrily tromped through it, unconcerned about soaking my right foot because I knew we were only fifteen minutes from the car. I was back in my house by two thirty, safe, warm and cozy again in warm, snowless Boston after my first winter backpacking experience.

- posted by Joachim @ 8:14 AM

 
I would have started this entry yesterday but I was really zonked. But I know how desperately you, gentle reader, have been waiting for news from the festival. You are wondering whether ordinary attendees like myself truly live the fabulous star-studded life you've read about or seen on TV. Well, the short answer is, yes we do.

After watching Somebodies and buying an alarming amount of food (we'll never finish it) at the grocery store, we returned to the condo to rest and recover our wits prior to attending our first Sundance party. This was technically in honor of some kind of film school organization, but really it was in honor of people who know the host, or people, like me, that know those people. So there I was, surrounded by beautiful people, sipping a red bull and vodka and grooving to a smooth beat provided by the DJ. I met some people and promised to work on a guy's karaoke for the blind project. We'll see about that.

That was Wednesday. Thursday started early. With about four hours of sleep, Glen and I leapt out of bed and rushed out to see Stephanie Daley, a movie about a teenager who gives birth and possibly kills her baby. It was really good. Tilda Swinton was excellent as a therapist who had herself recently had a miscarriage.

From there we went immediately into Flannel Pajamas, another excellent film that explored a romantic relationship between two people with extraordinary poignancy and depth. Really great stuff, though amazingly, it was somewhat more depressing than the baby-killer movie.

We then went straight into In Between Days, in the same theater. This was a low-budget movie about a couple of teenage Korean-American kids in love. It was a little slow but made the best of a small budget and simple equipment.

Post-movie, we proceeded downtown to meet my buddy Betty! Yay, Betty has arrived! From there we headed to 350 Main with the entire condo gang to eat dinner. That included me and Glen, Russ and Jason, Sparky and Erinne, Betty and her two friends Stacy and Adrian. Dinner was fantastic - I mean, really, seriously good. Sparky picked up the tab for all nine of us, which was a major bonus seeing as I was grimacing at paying just my own bill. Thanks, Sparky!

After dinner we barely had time to stop at the Liquor store before hitting the last movie. Kiss Me Not on the Eyes is an Egyptian film about a woman who wants to explore desire and sensual love in a society that represses them. A little hard to follow, maybe, for us foreigners, plus we were sleepy, but I basically enjoyed it.
- posted by Joachim @ 12:08 AM

 
Today is my second day at Sundance. It's not really over yet, but I figure people might be interested in hearing how things have gone this far.

I went snowboarding today. Honestly, I thought it would be better. Utah is famous for its amazing snow, but Park City hasn't really had much lately. Without a lot of snow I wasn't as excited as I'd hoped to be. It was still fun, though. The board I rented had some kind of new super-wax on it that made it completely frictionless; my first half hour was basically continuous torment for me and my skiing friend Glen. Until I actually got strapped in the scene looked like something from the Keystone cops. Once we actually started going downhill, I did all right most of the time, but getting off the lift was still a tricky operation for much of the day. The slow detached lifts weren't so bad, but when we tied to get off the first regular lift, just as I was getting my balance, the lift chair jumped me from behind! I was flipped and tossed onto my back. Everyone laughed, but my right arm still doesn't work right. Well, who needs a right arm to watch movies.

Apres ski we had a quick hot tub and headed out. I was completely exhausted and barely able to walk. We headed downtown where I picked up my prepurchased tickets. Glen got his weekend pass. We then continued on to the theater to watch "Somebodies". It was incredibly funny but somewhat haphazardly assembled. I'm not sure anyone will pick it up without a little more editing. After that we took Sparky's rented Hummer and went grocery shopping. And after that, dear reader, I came back here and typed this message in for you.
- posted by Joachim @ 10:19 PM

 
Aaaaaaaaand we're back! I am travelling once again, so the travel blog, once again, is on! As I write this, I am relaxing in my condominium on Empire street in Park City, Utah, discussing with my friends the films we've seen so far at the Sundance Film Festival. I just arrived this afternoon so I haven't seen much but I'll report anyway.

The condo is quite pretty (pictures to follow when I'm less sleepy), with lots of exposed wood, a firelplace, and a hot tub. We're quite close to main street, the downtown area, many of the film veues, and the Park City ski area. It's a great spot.

So far we have watched Shorts Program 6 and Puccini for Beginners. The shorts program, unusually in my experience, was all good! Each of the six or seven films was enjoyable, and a couple of them were really excellent. You Came Back and Held My Hand was one such, a moving and insightful investigation of the difference between sexual intimacy and emotional closeness. With beautiful lighting and camera work, the film incongruously presents the images of a sexual liasion at the same time as the sound of the day after telephone conversation. Another film shows the unexpected relationship between a young man in London, his hip-hop friends, and his emphysemic father.

The first full-length film I saw was a real winner, and will almost certainly make it to theaters eventually. Puccini for Beginners is a romantic comedy of errors. A young lesbian woman is dumped by her girlfriend, and starts simultaneously dating a man and a woman - who, it turns out, have just broken up themselves! Well, hilarity ensues as you might expect. The film is very well edited, the characters are likeable, and the comedy just clicks. It's the kind of film that makes you want to live in New York.
- posted by Joachim @ 3:54 AM