Ski = MC Squared

When Life Gives you Lemons . . .

2012-02-02T22:04:00.000-05:00

. . . just go Mountain Biking.

It was 56 degrees when I left work on Wednesday, February 1st. Unbelievable. So we decided to check out the mountain bike trails up at SMBA. The riding was pretty difficult. It was a combination of icy death, nicely compacted sun softened snow, surface layered mud, and some prime dirt and dry rocks (mostly on the south facing slopes). Here's a couple of surreal pictures taken with my buddy's camera (I was going to bring the DSLR, but the "icy death" kind of discouraged me. It ended up being a poor decision - there were some stellar photo ops):

I'm still skiing (went to West Mountain Tuesday and tonight), but this was just . . . better. It's weird. I had more fun learning some new riding styles (snow riding is a lot different than regular riding), messing around in the snow, and sliding around wildly than I did skiing tonight on a bunch of groomers. We really need to get some snow. I'm still hopeful for a good skiing winter, but if it doesn't happen, I'm glad that I've got a bunch of new skills to try to master on the bike. Sometimes, you just have to take what Ullr gives you.

Starting to get Interesting . . .

2012-01-24T16:32:00.003-05:00

When you go skiing, what kind of terrain are you lookingfor? By that, I mean, what kind of stuff do you like to ski?

It seems like a great majority of the skiing public prefersgroomed terrain, which I find to be kind of weird. I mean, think of the groomerson your local mountain. Is there anyreal difference from one to the next? I mean, sure, maybe the pitch changes,maybe the aspect is different, and maybe the snow quality has some slight variationfrom one to the next. But, really, is your skiing experience going to be THATmuch different if “Groomer A” is closed for the day, so you have to default to“Groomer B”?

When I ski, I spend a lot of time looking for “Interesting”terrain. Interesting terrain could be anything from icy bumps, to a glade withridiculously thin cover, to a terrain park, and everything in between. I’drather the conditions be horrible and difficult, than easy and boring.

I was thinking about this today when I was thinking about mylife. When it came time to make decisions in life, I always tried to make theeasy and boring decision: go to school, get a job, buy a house, get married,etc. It’s like I was following everybody else, straight down crowded Groomer A.As things fall apart, I’m starting to think that maybe there’s more interestingstuff out there.

Who says I have to follow the same path that everyone elseis following? What if I want to duck into the trees for a while? What if I wantto throw myself into the air, knowing that there’s a distinct possibility of aspectacular crash? What if I just want to get away from the freaking people onGroomer A?

The people are the worst! With their boring talk about howthis trail is so great, and Groomer B is probably great too, let’s do thatnext, and then we’ll all reconvene at the end of the day and talk about howgreat our day was and we go home happy knowing that we all took the safe route,never experienced any risk, and didn’t fall all day. Sure, there were tough spots, like that patchof ice on Groomer J, but we were proud of the way we handled that, and we allgot through it safe and sound, and we all came away better for the experience.

Ugh. No thanks. But what about those people over there? Whatabout those guys poaching that line under the lift? What about those shadowsmoving through the woods? What aboutthat dude hurling himself down that mogul field? Ahhh, now these are the people I can relateto. People who take chances, people whotake risks, people who put themselves out there, knowing that it’s possible thatthey could fail, but even if they do, at least they’ll have an epic story totell about it.

This is the kind of person I’m attracted to in life, aswell. Tell me about your crazy schemes, letme know about your harebrained ideas, tell me the story of how you took thatchance in your life, and what happened as a result. Give me your wild, your sure, your untroubledbadasses yearning to freeski! People who choose their own path, and have betterstories as a result.

Because I really don’t want to hear another diatribe abouthow that snowboarder cut you off. I want to hear about that time your buddyalmost got caught in that tree well. Iwant to reminisce about that crazy cliff huck with the sketchy landing. I want to relive that face shot, or soft springcorn bump field, or boost out of the pipe.

I know what you’re thinking: “But Matt, not everyone has theability to do all that stuff you’re saying”. I know. Similarly, I have a job, amortgage, a car loan, and a house. Ijust can’t sell all my crap, and just start biking across the country with theclothes on my back, either. But you can take a chance.

Next time you’re skiing, do one thing that scares you. Onething different. One thing that’s not in your daily routine. Slide a box.Sample some snow in the woods. Hit a kicker. You might find that it leads to awhole new appreciation for life outside of the same old groomer.

I’m going to Alaska this spring. It might be horrible, itmight end catastrophically, and it might send me running back to New York withmy tail between my legs. But it’s possible that it’ll be the best trip I’veever done. I might have the time of my life. This trip could open me up to anentire life that I never even considered before. And just knowing that makes it worth therisk.

It’s time to choose a new trail.

Burning Skis

2012-01-17T21:23:00.000-05:00

Well, it was a pretty good weekend. On Saturday night, we burned skis:

And on Sunday night, I skied in the Torchlight parade. After that, things started to get really hazy. Strange.

Hopefully, the sacrifices to the snow gods are heard and we can get some snow soon. I'm jonesin' for some pow.

Craigslist Score

2012-01-11T18:37:00.002-05:00

When I made the decision to buy the Pentax k-x, I willingly sacrificed the wide range of lenses of Canon and Nikon for shutter speed, video capability, and price. And, as an added bonus, the Pentax is backwards compatible with nearly all of the lenses ever produced for Pentax SLRs - digital and 35mm. I didn't really give much thought to this added feature. If I was going to buy a lens, it would probably be a nice new Tamron 28-75mm f/2.8. Only problem: the lens is about $450.

So, whenever I went to a garage sale or flea market, I casually looked for any older Pentax lenses that might be around. I never stumbled across one single lens. I never even saw a camera. Well, just the other day, a guy was selling an old Pentax camera (K1000) on craigslist with "extras". Turns out the extras were a 70-200mm f/3.8-4.8, a 100-300mm f/5.6, and a 50mm prime f/2, a lens cleaning kit, some filters, and a camera bag. Nice.

I haven't gotten to fool around with the longer range lenses, but here are a couple of shot comparisons with the 50mm prime (comparing to my 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 kit lens).

Kit:

Prime:

Kit:

Prime:

I don't need to be a professional photographer to realize that the pics with the new lens are a whole lot better. The only problem is that with these new lenses (all of them), is that I lose the ability to autofocus. I don't know if that is going to hinder their use in skiing, when I like to bang out a bunch of pictures in a row and I can't be bothered to focus on every one. I guess time will tell. Right now, though, I can't think of any other way I would have rather spent that cash.

Powder Skiing? This Year?!? Now!?!?!?!

2012-01-03T22:15:00.001-05:00

Got a few pics from today that I played with on the computer a little. The full report is over on Harvey Road. Here's some choice shots:

Check The New York State Ski Blog for more!

Long December

2011-12-30T16:46:00.001-05:00

It's been a long December and there's reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last.

It's been a very, very, very tough year. I've tried to push through and just keep on keepin' on as best I could, but it's been pretty difficult. I know next year is going to be better though. I still believe in happiness. I still believe in love. And I still believe in deep snow, bluebird skies and epic days. It might not come now, it might not come next week, but it will come. I know it will.

Happy New Year.

EDIT: Didn't mean to make this post sound so down. Here's a cool video of 3 people cruising around the country in a tiny house searching for powder to boost the mood:

Early Season Malaise

2011-12-22T15:17:00.000-05:00

As a “weekend warrior”, I don’t suffer from the general malaise that seems to be setting in among mountain people across the country (except for Alaska). Here’s the Female Ski Bum:

I am here, stuck in the midst of my "why hasn't the winter season really started yet" depression, and struggling to feel my soul connected to the mountain.

Even the Jaded Local is talking crazy:

It all seems so far away, so impossible… and then all of a sudden you’re considering drastic measures like getting a job or buying telemark gear.

Now that's just insane. Don’t get me wrong. I ask the same questions, look at the same weather reports, and wish for the same powder. I just have other stuff to do: gym climbing Tuesday at The Edge-Halfmoon, office Christmas parties, last minute shopping, dicking around on the internet, work, etc. I’m keeping myself busy, confident that the snow will be there (as it always is) in February and March, when my ski instructing duties slow down and I can get to ripping.

I do have to say, though, that once I get to that point, I’m not thinking about work, shopping, or internet dicking. Apparently someone is, though, because the newest thing to be introduced in Vail is the Wi-Fi enabled gondola. I see more and more people whipping out their phones and texting, facebooking, and playing angry birds on the way up the mountain. God forbid they actually hold a conversation with the people around them – maybe make some new friends, discuss the snow conditions, laugh at a spectacular crash below. Nope. Instead of engaging with other people and actually being present, they choose to completely remove themselves from the situation and zone out everything that’s going in their vicinity. Ugh. They might as well be at home staring at a glowing box.

In a related story, there’s a new app available for iPhones that uses the GPS to identify the mountain peaks around you in the Adirondacks. Now this is the kind of thing I’d like to see more of. This app uses technology in a way that actually allows you to be more tuned in to what you’re doing. Part of the reason I like Photography and Video is that they force you to find creative ways to view your surroundings. Year End photo journal-style blog posts, like this and this, wouldn’t be possible if the authors were not paying attention to everything going on around them. Even a walk in the woods can be an amazing experience if you just stop and look around once in a while. These are the kinds of things that inspire me to get out there, have more adventures, take more pictures, and be more imaginative in my photography.

I don’t really know what I’m trying to say here (it’s probably another one of my pleas to live in the moment), but I guess I’ll finish with a story about the rock gym. First, let it be known that I am not a good rock climber. Well, I guess I’m good enough to know that I’m not good. I’m not a Gumby, but I’m definitely not flashing 5.9s, and I constantly find myself pumped out and hang dogging the last few climbs of the night (I’ve been reviewing the glossary of climbing terms because people have entire conversations in that gym that sound completely foreign to me).

Anyway, when I’m in the gym and I’m belaying or resting, I’m looking around like crazy. I always find it interesting how many different ways there are to climb the same route. And there are so many different styles (mostly corresponding to body type). I’m starting to learn what constitutes good technique (using the skeleton as much as possible to rest the muscles), and trying to be more smooth in my climbing (funny how that’s the goal in so many sports). I’m so caught up in everything I’m doing, that I’m not thinking about work or relationships or anything else. And I’m definitely not thinking about taking out my phone to see what other people are doing on Facebook. Maybe that’s why I’m happy.

Last Chair: 12/16/11

2011-12-16T17:10:00.001-05:00

I want to bring back Last Chair, but it was such a pain in the ass to compile. Does anyone know how to post my last week in tweets? I've seen it on a lot of blogs, but I have no idea how to do it. Is there a widget or something that will just spit out all my tweets for a specified period of time, which I could then post to this page every Friday? Or, even better, something that would do this automatically every Friday?In the meantime, here's a sweet video from MSP:

When Did Skiing Become Lame?

2011-12-15T17:19:00.000-05:00

What happened? Skiing used to be cool. Athletic. Outdoorsy. Fun. I just bought the 40th anniversary edition of Powder and I almost cried. Not because everything was so much better back in the 70’s (although the moustaches and mogul runs were sick):

NDG11, Hot Dog with Dick Barrymore from Nuit De La Glisse on Vimeo.

I just miss the skiing that I grew up with. The nostalgia brought out some feelings that I didn’t even know I had. All of the newer pictures in the magazine show an activity, all of the older pictures show an experience. Somehow, right around the time that Greg Stump stopped making ski movies, skiing got lame. I used to see people chugging beer on the way up the Triple chairlift at Gore. I used to ski the ridiculously ungroomed and unmaintained trails of Big Tupper Ski Area (alongside Scott Gaffney, according to one article in the mag). I used to look up to the people pounding bumps at the Bear Mountain Mogul Challenge (now discontinued?).

Then, sometime between Shane McConkey’s death and now, skiing got really, really, really boring. Look around the lodge now. Where are the partiers? Where are the chicks in stretch pants? Where are the zany antics? Where are the mustaches? All I see now are Transpacks and Ski Totes, corporate ownership of big mountains, contractors doing food service, and lame people doing lame things on lame mountains with lame rules. Did you know that there’s a state law in Vermont that says you can’t drink your own beer on a deck outside of a ski area bar (or the bar loses its license)? WTF? The state where Fred Pabst founded multiple mountains (including Bromley) can’t tolerate a cooler full of PBR on a warm spring day? If the people from 80’s ski movies were subject to these rules, the movies would have been 15 minutes long.

Every time someone comes along to challenge the corporate police state and actually have a little fun, they get shut down hard (see: G.N.A.R., The Movie). Listen, I understand the other side of the argument. Skiing is a family sport now. It’s more important for ski “resorts” to cater to the wealthy clients (who prefer a calm atmosphere of fine dining, posh hotels, and manicured runs). What’s wrong with that? Well, I’ll leave it to Telluride town councilman Rasta Stevie to explain:

Exactly. Telluride is all about funky culture. And when Stevie leaves, and all his brethren leave, there will just be a bunch of rich dweebs saying "Where has everybody gone? I thought this place was funky!" Well, crazy white Rasta guy, I’m looking around my mountain, and I’m not seeing a lot of funky culture either. And don’t tell me that snowboarders are the new heirs to the crazy party throne (which is actually what I call my toilet). A lot of those guys are just as lame as the tight ass skiers.

So what’s the solution? I guess I’ll turn to Gandhi’s advice and “Be the Change” I want to see. I have to switch up my usual mountain experience, and try some new things. Torchlight parade? Yes. Full Moon Backcountry ski session? Yes. Unconventional terrain competition? Overnight Winter camping and ski adventure? Pond Skimming? Yes. Yes. Yes. In the intro to the aforementioned magazine (which I read on the crazy party throne), Neil Stebbins has a lot of tips to help improve your skiing life. Here’s one:

Ask yourself: Do you ski the same places the same way every season? Do you and your friends all look the same? Listen to the same music? Look up to the same people? Look down on the same people? I know, you think that’s why your friends are your friends, but trying new things can be rewarding. Difficult, embarrassing, but nearly always worthwhile. Surprise yourself. And your friends.

I’ve been doing the same things in the same way at the same mountain for too long. It’s time to start making skiing fun again. Who’s with me?

New Format

2011-12-13T22:57:00.001-05:00

As you may have noticed, I'm trying to make the blog look a little more professional, so I'm messing with the format a little bit. Check out my cool picture on top. I also made one for mountain biking season:

I still have to put a few more links up on my bar up there (hiking, road biking, etc.), and I might adjust the columns and add more fun stuff on the periphery. So, just know that I'm still trying to improve the blog and also trying to make it as functional as possible.

Gift Guides = Garbage

2011-12-13T16:44:00.000-05:00

Around this time of year, ski sites start coming out with “gift guides”, which are really just a bunch of kickbacks to their sponsors. Everything is overpriced, everything is gimmicky, and it’s almost a guarantee that everything you get will make you look stupid (also, the time has come for me to officially come out against Transpack backpacks. They are the Ski-Tote of the new millennium and as easy as they might make things to carry, you generally look like a complete and total gaper when you have one – exceptions can be made for kids, but that’s the only group with immunity). Gift guides as a general concept are so beholden to the “consumer culture”, it’s hard to think of any way that they make people’s lives better. Many years from now, when historians write the book on the decline of the American empire as a result of capitalistic greed, rampant egoism, and uncaring selfishness, the “Holiday Gift Guide” will have its own chapter. It’s so much better to think about gifts like this guy:

The best gift for an adventurer is a great plan in a brand new place and a way to get there (gas $$, plane tickets, whatever).

He goes on to do the kind of gift guide that I’m really interested in: the best adventure spots in a variety of states (for New York, he recommends tagging a bunch of peaks in the ADKs on a long hike from Keene Valley to Marcy). That’s the kind of thing I want to know about. Don’t tell me what to buy, tell me what to do. Tell me what to see. Show me a cool place that I’ve never visited. Introduce me to an activity that I’ve never done before. Better yet, come with me! If you’re passionate about Stand Up Paddleboarding, or Canyoneering, or Snowmobiling, or whatever you’re into, show me why you like it. Tell me why it’s awesome, and take me on your favorite trip.

I was recently reading an article about donations to food banks being the most economically inefficient way to deal with feeding the hungry. There are many problems with the “food drive” model: charitable organizations can get cans of food for much less money than you can, handling that many cans are a logistical nightmare, and a lot of food ends up getting wasted (because they’ve received too many cans of beans and not enough cans of tomatoes, for instance). So should we stop giving cans of food? What’s the solution?

In-kind donations still help, of course, and nobody’s turning away boxes of food. But a fundamental issue is that many organizations feel that asking for money—like requesting cash as a gift—seems somewhat gauche. So, let me be rude on their behalf: Find well-managed charities in your community and trust them to know how to do their job. They have access to food at a fraction of the price. They know their clients, and they have better things to do than to sort through your canned goods.

Exactly. When it comes to food banks, the best strategy is to let them handle it. And maybe this is the best strategy for gift giving, too. I can get pretty good discounts on Outdoor equipment. I know a couple of trips next year that I REALLY want to go on. And I don’t really need that 8th pair of ski socks.

I know that this is antithetical to the whole capitalist system (or “spirit of giving” if you please), but the money that people are going to spend on Christmas gifts would do a lot more good if it were in the hands of the people who are in line to receive the gifts. I’m in favor of stipulations (“you have to spend this on something fun and not on bills”), but I’m just not in favor of filling my house with more crap. I’m not about to go minimalist, I just feel like I’ve gotten to the point where I already have enough stuff (besides that avalanche gear I need . . . and that rock climbing equipment . . . Damn. This anti-capitalism thing is harder than I thought).

I really just need to get out and start using the stuff I have.

Come on, Snow.

Sedona, Arizona - 11/21/11 & McDowell Mountain Regional Park - 11/24/11

2011-12-06T19:23:00.000-05:00

I'm bored tonight, so I thought I'd do a quick report of a couple of mountain bike rides I went on while I was out in Arizona for the Thanksgiving holiday. My brother and I had these great plans to ride all over the place, but he got into a motorcycle accident, broke his collarbone, and was unable to do any kind of physical activity at all. So, I stole his bike and caught a ride up to Sedona.

The weather was pretty nice.

The scenery was decent, too. I rode around the Bell rock area for a while (nice wide roads, but nothing overly exciting), then I took the Templeton Trail to the Baldwin Loop. That's where the riding got really good.

After cruising the high desert and rocky switchbacks for a while, I dropped down into a river valley, and suddenly, I felt like I was back in New York. Roots, grass, and actual trees! Crazy for Arizona.

I was feeling freaking fantastic. I was ripping technical lines, hopping off of knolls, and pumping banked turns to gain speed (but not too much speed because I wasn't really familiar with the trails and I never really knew what was around the corner). I was feeling so good, though, that I decided to follow this guy's advice for taking better outdoor photos.

Thankfully, I avoided that cactus. I continued on the Baldwin loop, and got to some more stellar scenery:

Then, I finished up by riding on the HT path, and some more stuff closer to Sedona proper. In fact, my route was similar to this route (probably what a lot of first timers do, as it was recommended by the guys at Sedona Bike & Bean, the first bike shop on the road in).

I cruised into town for a while for some lunch with my parents. The town was a little hokey with all the typical tourist shops. Apparently there's a big new-age hippy dippy contingent in town that hawks tarot card readings, fortune telling, and "magic" crystals. I guess there are several "vortexes" in the area that supposedly harness some kind of cosmic energy. I just rode right past them, but I saw some people who appeared to be deep in meditation (I tried not to disturb their chi).

After lunch, I headed out on the Deadman's pass trail:

After a couple of miles of riding, though, I realized that I just did not have the leg power I wanted for the climbs. I did a little more riding and turned around. I was starting to think that maybe the mystics were punishing me for doubting their power. But then I looked to the southwest, and I realized that at least someone was shining on me.

On Thanksgiving day, I thought I'd try something a little closer to my brother's house in Scottsdale. A 30 minute drive in his ridiculous Jeep brought me to the McDowell Mountain Regional Park. I asked the guy at the Gate where the best mountain biking was, and he pointed me to the Pemberton Trail. While the views of mountains and Cacti were good, the trail was super boring. No hills, few turns, and no challenge at all.

I noticed on the map that there was a "Competitive Area" in the southwest corner of the park. This is where I should have been all along! Because I was a little tired from the 10 miles of boring riding I had just done, I opted for the "Sport Loop" (I would have done the Long Loop if I had gone to this area first). It was a little boring at the beginning, but then I saw this sign:

After that, it got good. Fast, flowy, not really technical, but just what I needed before I laced into some Turkey. The other cool thing is that all the trails were one way, so you didn't have to worry about anyone coming up on you when you're banking turns down a desert ravine. Very Cool.

Mountain Biking in Arizona is pretty damn fun (and I really just scratched the surface - mostly sticking to the "tourist" spots). Next time I go out there, I'll be sure to dive deeper into the scene and really see if I can find some more technical stuff, some cooler scenery, and some crazy lines. Maybe then, I'll be able to go with my brother too - might have to hire a mystic healer for him, though.

Patience

2011-11-29T16:58:00.002-05:00

I write a lot about anticipation. It’s not that I’m incapable of living in the moment; it’s just that I feel like life is better when you’re looking forward to something. But one thing I don’t enjoy is the griping around this time of year about terrain options (or, more specifically, lack of terrain options). Sure, I’ve definitely complained in the past. But since then I’ve realized that, instead of spending all your time waiting for an enjoyable payoff, it’s better to enjoy the time leading up to the payoff. Patience, it turns out, is a virtue.

So, after skiing on Saturday, I went mountain biking on Sunday, then watched football, drank beers, and took a nap. Sometimes a little decompression is good. I know that the snow is going to be there in February, March, and April, there’s no need to go crazy. Or is there? Here’s a story about a bunch of people who’ve been skiing on crushed rocks:

The daredevils carved their way down a steep slope in the western Austrian village of Haiming, producing clouds of dust and at least one face-down tumble.

Among reports that a mild winter has left sportsmen with a lack of the white stuff in Europe, the skiers obviously decided to take matters into their own hands.

I’m not going to be doing that anytime soon. I mean, maybe if it was grass or dirt, but talus slope does not scream “Number One Option” to me. A real option when you're going number one is this new urinal game in Britain that incorporates skiing:

Drinkers can enjoy a spot of simulated skiing or extinguish some virtual flames while relieving themselves at The Exhibit bar in Balham, south London.

High-tech sensors detect the direction of urine and translate it into action on a 12-inch screen above every urinal.

By aiming carefully while spending a penny, users can guide a skier off piste or put out a raging inferno during their 60-second toilet trip.

I think I can be patient for a little longer.

In fact, I’ve tried to incorporate this theory of patience into my entire life, and I think it’s finally starting to pay dividends. Just this week I learned that Lindsey Vonn is getting divorced. I’d like to throw my name into the hat for a rebound relationship. I wouldn’t be all overbearing and domineering like her former husband/coach/trainer/career adviser. I’d be content to just travel to exotic destinations, lounge around in expensive hotels, and support her during all of her races (unless it was a powder day, in which case, I’m sure I could just catch the highlights later). I think that that Lindsey and I have a lot in common and if she needs it, I could totally be her shoulder to cry on (and if not, I was always more of a Julia Mancuso guy anyway).

Really, anything would be better than 65 degrees and raining. But if you do like this weather, Yahoo has been busy coming up with places to ski in ridiculous states like Connecticut and Tennessee. Say what you will about skiing in NY, at least we have legitimate mountains. And mountains are important, as it seems like cross country skiing is becoming increasingly dangerous, according to this story from Sweden:

The trial against the hunter who fired a single shot that passed through an elk before hitting and killing a cross-country skier, opens on Monday in Sweden.

I know some people who are patient enough to wait until after Hunting season to begin skiing. That idea is looking better and better.

Bike Path Ride - Scottsdale, AZ

2011-11-20T19:16:00.000-05:00

While everyone else is complaining that it's not cold enough for snowmaking, I got the hell out of town. Here's what I did on Saturday:

Yeah, I took my brother's mountain bike and cruised the unbelievable bike path network of Scottsdale, AZ. I rode from Scottsdale down to Tempe, past Sun Devil Stadium:

All of the riding was on bike paths. And the paths are amazing. They have water fountains, bathrooms, and interpretive signs along the route. There were people running, biking and even rollerblading (I didn't even know people did that anymore). On the way back, I got on some dirt:

It was mostly flat fire road riding, but I'm hoping to get on some singletrack tomorrow and Thursday before Thanksgiving festivities. Then, when I get back to New York, I can start praying for snow like everyone else.

Last Weekend's Hike

2011-11-08T19:53:00.000-05:00

So, we had this plan . . .

We were going to park at the Garden Trailhead in Keene Valley on Saturday, check out the Bennie's Brook Slide for a possible winter adventure, hike it up to the top, and come down the Lower Wolfjaw Trail, and chill out back at the car with a couple of beers. Sounds good, right?

Well, The Garden parking lot was full, so we decided to attack the mountain from the W.A. White Trail via the Rooster Comb and Hedgehog Trails. This was a lot more difficult than we anticipated. Still though, it was a good workout, and a good way to get in shape for the ski season. We felt good when we saw our first glimpse of the slide:

Like a freaking ski run!!! And it looked even better once we were on the slide:

The snowy, icy, rocky slide was pretty tough to walk down, but we just took our time and made sure that we didn't do anything stupid. There were some nice terrain features further down:

Rocks, drop offs, natural knolls: This is going to be SWEET this winter. We hiked down to the sunny spot in that second picture and ate our lunch. It was a nice view back up the slide:

Anyway, the slide looks a lot different than when Jeff went last August. And it now goes all the way down to the Southside trail (on the south side of John's Brook). We took that back towards Keene Valley (having to take a few reroutes due to parts of the trail that were washed out in the hurricane).

All in all, it was a pretty sweet adventure.

TR: Pico 10/30/11

2011-10-31T20:13:00.001-04:00

Remember when I said that the recent snowfall wasn't quite enough for an early season turn-earning session? I lied.

We got a late start after Saturday night Halloween festivities, finally rolling out of the house around 9:30. We just wanted to head up to the Killington area, decide if we wanted to pay for a ticket or not, and have a lazily awesome opening day. We did a little recon at Pico on the way by, checked the snow depth, scanned the ski tracks looking for deep gashes down to dirt, etc. We needed supplies anyway, so we pressed on towards Killington. After a quick stop at the deli for sandwiches and water, we pulled into the dropoff area for the K base Lodge, and I was already not feeling it. There were a lot of people milling around, there was a cattle line at the Gondola, and looking up the mountain, there was a steady stream of people going towards the North Ridge Triple. And when I say "steady", I mean "neverending".

We got the hell out of there. The parking lot at Pico was a ton better. There were a couple chill guys coming down that gave us some beta: "a little bit of everything". Sounds like fun.

We started hiking while the clouds were still sticking around. The skin track was sweet:

The hiking was easy and fun. In the picture above, you can see that the upper mountain blacks were in "questionable" shape. We hiked all the way up to the point where the high grass started. Did I mention it was easy?

And fun?

Yeah, I was rocking the stache (left over from my Halloween costume). It took us an hour and a half to get up to that point just below the top. After that, the fun started. Sorry I don't have any sick action shots. I was just having too much fun skiing. Here's what the snow was like:

It was freaking great. I don't know if it's because we were all rocking fat skis, or because we followed some sage advice to stick to the mellow blue square pitches, but none of us bottomed out at all. After tooling around for a while, we headed down. Here's a semi-action shot:

The untracked stuff was fine as long as you had enough speed to get your skis to plane, enough power to be able to move your skis where you wanted them, and enough ability to make the necessary balance adjustments for the snow and occasional water bars. Simple!

The whole day was really fun. We saw a bunch of mellow people, a lot of dogs, and a few hardcore kids (9-10 years old, I'd say) with their parents who hiked all the way up to where we were (and then skied tele down!). And if you hadn't noticed, the sun came out:

We finished with a couple of beers on the deck (I had some Keystone Light left over). Perfect end to a perfect day:

As you might have noticed, I played with the color saturation on these pictures, so they kind of look like Technicolor. I thought it was fitting because the whole thing was kind of surreal. All those people crowding Killington, and this (relatively) untapped Shangri-La was right down the road. Crazy. Not only that, as we drove through Rutland, and back to the ADKs, we went from the deep snow depths of winter to the leaf covered grass of fall. There wasn't any snow on the ground at all by the time we got back to Queensbury. The only signals we had from the official beginning of the 2011/2012 ski season were the droplets of water on our skis and the pictures on our cameras:

Winter's Coming

2011-10-27T17:45:00.002-04:00

Sorry I've been a little lax on the blog lately. I've been dealing with some stuff. You can follow me on Twitter @mattchuck2, or on my twitter feed that appears on the right, and I have been posting a lot of cool links, internet videos, and other interesting stuff on there.

I just really haven't been able to get out anywhere lately. That'll change soon, though, as I finally got my mountain bike light back. That means I'll be able to start night riding again (which is awesome). And, as you can see from this picture of my street, winter is right around the corner:

Don't think it's quite enough for a early season turn earning session (I'll leave that to FIS), but it's definitely getting near that time. I can't freaking wait . . . If there was ever a year that I need skiing, this is it. Let's do this.

Mountain Biking - Otter Creek + Floodwood 10/9/11

2011-10-11T21:27:00.002-04:00

Did a lap on my normal mountain bike route up around the Fish Creek Pond Campground. It's about 8 miles or so, and it takes me about an hour an a half when I stop to take pictures. I took a lot of pictures on this trip:

The ride starts out on the road towards the campground, but you don't mind because of views like this:

I cruised into the campground and it was pretty empty. Half of the sites were closed and only about half of the remaining sites were filled. There is a nice gravel path that I rode on right next to the main road:

But eventually I had to cruise back to the road so that I could get to the Rollins Pond Campground. Doesn't matter. It was still beautiful:

Once you get into the Rollins Pond Campground, you just have to keep going all the way to the end. It's really nice this time of year because the park is closed, the sites are empty, and the roads are covered with fallen leaves:

Make sure that the campsite numbers keep going up, and eventually you reach the end of the line and this sign:

Once you turn on to the Otter Hollow Loop, the singletrack is sweet:

Once you hit this bridge, you head over to the Floodwood Pond Trail (which we did earlier this year):

Neither trail is very technical. This is about as tough as it gets:

It was a fun trip, but it would be better if I had someone to ride it with. If anyone wants to rip around, on mountain bikes or skis (soon), let me know because I have a lot of free time all of a sudden.

New Adventures?

2011-09-30T17:16:00.002-04:00

I guess it’s pretty obvious that I’ve been going through some rough times lately. I’ve been trying to deal with a lot of relationship problems throughout the past year, but it’s just not working anymore. I want to explain everything that’s going on, but because I don’t really want to assign blame or point fingers, I’m going to try to explain how difficult marriage is by way of The Five Elements of Adventure, the subject of a new book by Matt Walker.

Adventure as made up of five elements.

Any hike, mountain bike trip, ski day, or paddling expedition is an adventure. Some are more tame than others, but for me, the feeling before the adventure is always the same: Nervous Anticipation. I love the feeling of driving up to the ski resort on the first day of the Year. Knowing that I’ll be sliding on snow within the hour is my favorite sensation. With it comes the familiar question marks: Did I forget my poles? Will I remember how to ski? What if I fall and get hurt on the first run?

Marriage was the same way for me. I was excited to be getting married, but there was a twinge of nerves too. I didn’t know if I would be good at this marriage thing. I’d obviously never done it before, and I didn’t know if I could be a great husband. Honestly, I didn’t even know what went in to being a great husband. I was nervous, but there is no doubt that I was with the person that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

Adventure is high endeavor. It is the ability to think big and think bigger about who you are, how you live, and what you can do in the world.

Marriage is definitely a high endeavor. I was perfectly fine functioning as a single person. But when we were married (and actually before we were married because we lived together for 3 years) we were a “couple”. And being a couple brings certain responsibilities that you don’t have as an individual. Sometimes, you don’t get to do everything you want to do. Sometimes you make decisions that, while not necessarily the best decision for you personally, is the best decision for the relationship. And even disregarding that stuff (which, for some people, is arguable), marriage doesn’t always turn out great. There is a reason that the divorce rate is so high. Marriage is a crazy singletrack, littered with rocks, roots and streams that are trying to divert you from your intended destination.

Adventure is total commitment. It is the spirit of willingness to embrace challenge and move toward success. It is the acknowledgement that total commitment does not mean blind faith or brazen disregard, but it is confidence and belief in the face of challenge.

You have to be committed. If you are going to make a marriage work, you have to keep your head down and plow through the difficult stages so that you can get back on track. I alluded to this idea way back in November of last year when we first started going through this difficulty. And I felt it when I was 35 miles into the Black Fly Challenge and sand was chafing at my taint with the force of steel wool. Once you start something, you have to have the fortitude to finish it. You can’t just leave the moment things get a little dicey.

Adventure has an uncertain outcome. A predetermined outcome is not an adventure but a packaged experience or amusement ride. Life is uncertain - get comfortable with it! It is the acknowledgement that there will be adversity and unease, but that an uncertain outcome is a gift of possibility.

Exactly. Why put so much effort into something, so much time and energy and emotions and devastation and heartbreak into something, when you aren’t guaranteed that it’s going to work out? I mean, every marriage has an ideal storybook ending: “Happily Ever After”, right? Well, that’s not always the case (in fact, I’d go so far as to say that even if you are happy, you’re not always happy, which is really what the phrase “happily ever after” means). I got married thinking of the ideal scenarios that everyone thinks about: growing old together, dream house, spending time with each other doing what we loved. But there was no guarantee that all of that (or, frankly, any of that) would happen.

Adventure is tolerance for adversity. It is our ability to be resilient in the face of challenge. Our willingness to laugh, use humor, and graceful during difficult situations. The opportunity we each face to take a step back and acknowledge the sometimes absurd aspects of being human, embrace it, and continue on.

Our “ever afters” are not always happy. There’s going to be some bumps in the road (or rocks in the singletrack if you prefer). It’s how you deal with that stuff that’s important. When you get a flat tire on the trail, do you throw a hissy fit and start throwing tools around? Or do you calmly look at the situation and try to figure out a way to get around it? It’s the same during a marriage. When something is going wrong, do you immediately get angry (or sad, or withdraw, or run away)? Or do you sit down and say to yourself: “This is what’s happening. This is why it’s happening. This is what I’m going to do to fix it.” Sure, adventures may involve a lot of “stumblef*cking”, but sometimes the most important things you do are the things that you worked the hardest to achieve.

Adventure is great companionship. While our lives can sometimes feel solitary, we can't do it alone. It takes a team to support living in commitment, joy, generosity, and gratitude.

This is what I’m going to miss the most. I always thought that our marriage worked the best because there was nobody on the world that I would rather be with. I loved how everything we did was made even better because we did it together. And I hate that we’re going to lose that.

But the time has come to have a new adventure. I’m getting divorced. I know that in time, I’ll feel a lot better than I do now. I know that I’ll be able to have more freedom to pursue whatever it is that is important to me as an individual. I know that I’ll be able to do all of the adventures that I’ve always wanted to do.

Right now, though, I just feel like the journey will be a lot more lonely.

More Adventure, Less Ennui

2011-09-09T09:26:00.006-04:00

I spend a lot of time reading people’s stories. Trip reports, race summaries, adventure journals. The internet is an incredible thing. I wanted to talk a little bit about why I fill my hours examining other people’s stuff.

Every once in a while, I come across a great blog post. The kind of post that makes me want to be a better person. When I read this post the other day, I definitely felt inspired. I mean, how could you not be affected by sections like this:

I joked yesterday about what I’ve learned on the bike. Well, the single greatest thing I have truly learned on the bike is what Ken Chlouber from Leadville preaches every year.

You are better than you think you are. You can do more than you think you can.

I have not ridden Leadville. I could not. Yet. I have done nothing like it. A lot of you have not, and could not. But…

We can all DIG DEEP. We are all better than we think we are, we can all do more than we think we can.

This is an absolute truth. I have not ridden Leadville, but I have experienced exactly what Ken preaches – I have learned from the past year and a half on the bike that I can do WAY more than I thought I could. I am WAY better than I thought I was.

And so are you.

I want to be better. I want to do more. Sometimes, especially when it rains for 3 straight days, I feel like I’m not living my life to its fullest potential. I’m making more excuses than memories. It’s raining. My rear rotor on my car needs to be replaced. My bank account is down to the single digits again.

I need to develop a more positive attitude. This is a better example of how I should be thinking, from the South County Cyclista blog:

A few weeks ago on a Friday night I was trying to figure out where I was going to ride the next morning. My friends all had to ride later in the day or were out of town. Then it hit me. Why not finally make it up to the radio tower? I pulled up the map I had studied many times looking at the dirt road switch backs climbing up the steep contours of the land. This would indeed be a solo adventure.

Usually adventures like this need to be done solo or you risk ending friendships if the adventure turns sour.

I remember one time this past summer when Ace was away, it was a beautiful sunny day, and I wasted it inside watching golf on TV. Ugh. To be fair, we did a 20 mile road ride in the morning so it wasn’t a complete waste. But I still felt like I could have done more. Wasn’t there a little part of my area that I hadn’t explored yet? Wasn’t there someplace to go?

That’s why this idea from the Adventure Journal really intrigued me:

I once spent four years cycling more than 40,000 miles round the world. It was a heck of an adventure. But one of the things I learned during that trip was that you don’t need to spend four years cycling more than 40,000 miles round the world to have an adventure.

Adventure is only a state of mind.  Adventure is stretching yourself; mentally, physically or culturally. It is about doing what you don’t normally do, pushing yourself hard and doing it to the best of your ability. And if that’s true then adventure is all around us, at all times. Even during hard financial times such as these. Times, I believe, when getting away from it all and out into the wild are more invigorating and important than ever.

That is why I began a series of ‘expeditions’ that are close to home, affordable, easy to organize, and designed to encourage other people to get out there and do stuff! I call them microadventures.

Right. I didn’t need to sit at home watching golf. There were all sorts of other things I could have been doing – new places to explore, new things to try, and new experiences to be had.

I think my real problem is that I wasn’t thinking outside of the box. I really did want to go somewhere, but for some reason, I was only thinking of places that I had been before. I wasn’t really into repeating something I had done hundreds of times (see my post on Adventures vs. Sessions), so I had a hard time motivating to get off my couch and do anything at all.

Ridiculous. Some of the best adventures are the ones that are unplanned, spontaneous, and completely improvised. Thinking only of the places I had been before made my decision really uninteresting, unexciting, and uninspiring. It’s no wonder I chose to sit at home. Because really, to take one more snippet from the South County Cyclista blog:

"It is only an adventure the first time."
- Dan Z.

Exactly. Time to start racking up some first times.

Maine Mountain Biking

2011-09-06T16:49:00.001-04:00

We did a little mountain biking in Maine while we were up there relaxing (full pics on my Facebook Page). On Saturday, we just rode the Carriage paths around Acadia National Park More specifically, we did the "Around the Mountain" Loop. Here's some pictures:

On Sunday, we did the Camden Snow Bowl/Ragged Mountain Recreational Area. We didn't have any idea where we were going, but there was one of those big trail maps at the bottom that gave us a few options. Here's the map:

We started off going up the Yellow Trail, then we wanted to keep climbing, so we hit the Red Trail. After a little descent on the blue trail, we hooked back up with the yellow trail and rode that to the bottom. It wasn't the longest mountain bike session in the world, but we spent the entire morning drinking beer on a sailboat, so we weren't really in the greatest condition for doing a ton of laps. Anyway, here's the pictures:

It wasn't an epic trip, but here at the end of summer, the mountain bike stoke is kind of waning. Soon, we'll start night riding (which will be fun), but on this vacation we weren't really in the mood to go super hardcore. I can see this place becoming really cool, though. If I was from the area, I'd do everything I could to support the Midcoast Maine chapter of the NEMBA.

As far as the pictures go, I'm experimenting with shooting in RAW mode, then adjusting all of the levels afterwords. I think these pictures are a little oversaturated with color, but I kind of liked the effect. I'm still trying to figure out the best levels for everything, so images on the blog might look weird for a while.

Last Chair: 9/2/2011

2011-09-02T15:36:00.000-04:00

I've been dealing with some things lately, so I haven't really got around to posting much. Or Twittering. I did want to take this time to post some of the stuff that's been happening on the web while I've been away from the blog.

Phil Brown at the Adirondack Explorer has been doing exceptional work documenting the aftermath of the Hurricane. He was the first to report that the bridge over Marcy Dam was washed away, the first with pictures of Duck Hole after that dam breached, and he took this excellent picture of the Keene Valley FD clothes outside of their makeshift headquarters (after their building was obliterated).

If you haven't seen it yet, Adirondack Backcountry Skiing chartered a plane to check out new slide paths resulting from the drenching rains. There's a discussion going on over at the Harvey Road Forums about new skiing opportunities. At least something good might come out of this hurricane.

And there was a mountain bike photo competition in VT. Sick.

I've never surfed, and I'd imagine that a lot of people who read this blog don't surf either. But the video this week was too sick not to post. Here you go:

Change

2011-08-13T16:23:00.002-04:00

I've been feeling really down lately. I don't know if it's the Month of August, some personal problems, a pay cut at work, or just the soul crushing ennui of suburban, middle class life. I can't help but feel like I'm just frittering time away, waiting for something to happen to me. Which is really the wrong attitude to take. The better approach is more like this (from holstee.com):

I'm trying to get past the "If you don't like something, change it" part of the slogan. I know something isn't right, I know I want to change it, but I have no idea what it is or how to change it. Besides, "change" isn't really always the easiest thing to pull off. Ask Barack Obama. Or Tupac. Or the millions of people who want to change their employment status.

I feel like I want to go somewhere, or do something, or make something happen. I'm not depressed, but I'm not happy either. Maybe I just need a long walk to clear my head. Or maybe I need to start making plans for the winter.

"Do what you love, and do it often."

Okay, maybe I'll try that for a while.

Last Chair: 8/12/11

2011-08-13T11:02:00.000-04:00

From time to time, I post some interesting links on my Twitter account. These posts appear on the feed on the right. Occasionally, I aggregate these tweets into a "Last Chair" post. I try to do it every Friday, but sometimes I'm too busy, or I'm travelling somewhere, or I'm too lazy. So here's a little update post for the couple of weeks I missed.

It's teaser season, so here's a new one from Meathead Films, a new one from Sweetgrass Productions, and a blog post with a collection of every trailer by the big boys (MSP, TGR, etc).

Someday, I really want to ride the Great Divide Route from Banff, Alberta to Antelope Wells, New Mexico. Here's a couple of blog posts listing reasons why: Part 1 and Part 2.

I didn't tweet this story, but I really liked this analysis by Drew from Wicked Outdoorsy of the decision to move Garmont from Vermont to Portland, Oregon.

The video this week is from Log Majal Productions. I don't know what it is, but as I get older, I find straight up Ski porn to be a little boring, and I'm looking for stuff with more of a story. This looks like it might fit the bill pretty well:

"The Source" Trailer from Log Mahal Productions on Vimeo.

Last Chair: 7/22/11

2011-07-22T21:13:00.002-04:00

Okay, here's my tweets for the week. If you want to get this stuff in (semi) real time, follow me on twitter. And for that matter, friend me on facebook (where my presence is a little more family oriented and sometimes political). Here we go:

The Famous Internet Skiers have been busy, posting this report and this report, both from Utah.

I was into some of the more "intellectual" posts this week. Here's a post from someone who came back to bicycling after a long hiatus, only to find it drastically different. And here's a post on "getting back your inner ski bum" by patronizing local mountains and helping local people.

And here's a funny internet post that leads to a funny thread.

Video this week is from Nimbus Independant (there's a skippable ad at the beginning). If you like Rap music and huge air, then this is for you. If not, the Meatheads teaser must be coming out soon . . .

More Ski Videos

The Secret of Golf

2011-07-20T22:02:00.001-04:00

My grandfather had two rules for golf. The first rule was “miss ‘em straight”; meaning, if you hit a bad shot, at least make sure the bad shot was in the general direction of the target. The second rule was “learn how to listen to the grass grow”. That one was a little bit more complicated. I guess I could have chalked it up to general weirdness (he also suggested washing your hands with “hot soap and water”), but I really think it was meant as more of a statement of grand philosophy.

I’m not someone you would call “relaxed.” I’m always thinking, fidgeting, or thinking about fidgeting. I like to be constantly bombarded with stuff – information, music, pictures, stories, etc. It’s not that I can’t relax (I relax with the best of them). I just seem to do a lot of stuff while I’m relaxing. Last night, after I got done mowing my lawn, I decided to just lay out on the couch. Before I knew it, I was drinking a beer, watching the Tour de France on TV, flipping back and forth to the Mets game, facebooking, texting Ace, and browsing internet message boards. Not exactly the tranquility that I had in mind. Since golf is a lot like life (but more complicated), I really have to teach myself to listen to the grass grow when I’m not on the golf course (since I seem to have learned to do it on the course – 37,38,38,38 for my last four 9’s).

One of the things that helped me this year is not dwelling on my last shot. It’s awful easy to screw up your next shot because you’re thinking about how horrible the previous shot was. In golf, your mind works better when it has a short memory: logical forgetfulness. The way I got there was a bit of a mental shift. Instead of thinking “I’m in this damn bunker because my last shot was so shitty”, I’ve started thinking: “Here I am in this bunker, how can I get this shot close?” It’s not a very drastic change, and it can easily be applied to other areas in life. Instead of thinking, “Damn, my relationship sucks because of this shitty thing I did”, it’s better to think: “Okay, here’s the situation I’m in now, how can I make it better?” The quicker you can make the transition from reflection to preparation, the easier it is to move on.

Another thing that has helped me this year is that I always make sure that I’m well fed (usually a sandwich before the round). And I always have a beer around the 4th hole. Somehow it’s easier to listen to the grass grow when I’m not starving and sober. Ace will tell you, when I’m hungry, it’s like a Snickers commercial. Also, it has been found that heavy drinking is more healthy than totally abstaining from drinking, possibly because of social reasons. So who’s up for a margarita!?!?

Finally, right before I swing, I think to myself: “It’s perfect”. I don’t know if this actually does anything, but I generally find that if I have a bad thought – “I’m going to slice it into the trees”, “I’m going to chunk this chip 2 feet in front of me”, “I’m going to hit it in that pond” – it almost always comes true. So, I figured that the opposite couldn’t hurt. I think this seems to work for me off the course as well. When I have a bad feeling walking into a casino, I generally lose money. But when I expect to win, I seem to do pretty well. I think this is one of the reasons that people accepted “The Force” as a possibility in Star Wars. The mind is pretty powerful, and it doesn’t seem too far fetched to believe that an enormous intergalactic planet-sized space station can be destroyed because some teenage kid trusted his “feelings” on the final shot.

I don’t really think that these steps are what my grandfather had in mind to improve your golf game. Otherwise, he would have just said that the secret is a short memory, food, confidence and alcohol. Wait a minute . . . Maybe that is the secret to a great golf game!! And a great date! For that matter, it might be the secret to a great business meeting, wedding, bowling tournament, poker game, bachelor party, sporting event, or parole board hearing! I mean, sure, this type of lifestyle might turn us into a nation of fat, forgetful, overoptimistic drunks, but some people would say that we’re already there. Which brings me back to the Grandpa’s first rule: As long as we’re going in the general direction we want to go in, it’s okay to miss every once in a while. Just make sure your next move is perfect.

Trip Report (MTB): Pine Hill Park - Rutland, VT

2011-07-18T13:17:00.002-04:00

After 50 miles on the road bike on Saturday, we got back in the woods on Sunday. Pine Hill Park in Rutland is a great spot for us for a couple of reasons:

1. It's in easy day trip range, less than two hours from our house, and about an hour from our friends' house
2. The fast, flowy trails are a nice change from the rooty, rocky technicality of SMBA (which has been in great shape lately, by the way).

After a sweet breakfast at the Big Apple Diner, we pulled in around 11:30. It was hot. Really hot. And the way that Pine Hill is set up, you start climbing from the parking lot, and don't stop climbing until you get to the top right corner of the map:

We rode up and up and up (Lower Ledges to Upper Ledges to Droopy Muffin to Jersey Turnpike to Strong Angel to Stegosaurus). When you finally reach the top, you're rewarded with a pretty sweet view:

We were glad to be done climbing for a while, though. It was time to play. We rode Overlook to Underdog - a fast descent with some fun features. Then we climbed up Salamander to PA4J (really fun going from north to south). All the trails were well marked and fun to ride:

They have a bunch of really cool bridges:

We rode Lonely Rock, Rembrandt's Brush, Halfpipe (favorite trail there), Sisyphus, Svelte Tiger, Vista Trail, and then we started making our way back down. We got a lot of miles in, but it only took us about 2 and a half hours. Must be getting a little faster.

Not much else to say about Pine Hill, except that it's pretty perfect for families, beginners, or just people looking to take a hiatus from breaking their bodies on crazy technical rocks. I had the GoPro with me, so I shot some footage and made a little video. I'm thinking that I'm going to start bringing my video camera mountain biking, just so I can get some different angles to break up the monotony if I decide to make a year end video. Anyway, here's the vid:

Last Chair: 7/15/11

2011-07-16T10:43:00.005-04:00

Slow week on the old internets, but here's a couple of links that I found interesting (and posted on my twitter feed - which appears on the right).

Here's one that I didn't put on the feed: A really cool Trip Report from skiing Mt. Shasta over the 4th of July weekend.

For biking links, I liked this shirt from the Tour de France and this Trip Report from the Dolomites.

And for life/motivation: here's 29 life lessons learned from travelling the world.

Video this week is the teaser for the Tuckerman Ravine segment of the upcoming Warren Miller movie. looks like they got some pretty good shots:

Edit: Damn embed isn't working . . . Here's the link, I'll fix mine when they fix their embed code.

Trip Report (MTB): Millstone Hill - Barre, VT

2011-07-11T22:00:00.003-04:00

I seem to do a lot more mountain bike Trip Reports than skiing Trip Reports. I think there's a couple of reasons: 1. Most of my ski days are at one mountain, whereas my weekend mountain biking trips are a little more varied (on weekdays, I stick to the Stables) and 2. I'm still kind of new to this mountain biking thing. So these places might be kind of old hat for some people, but for me, they're new and exciting. Anyway, on with the report:

We decided to make our excursion to Millstone a day trip, which, as it turned out, was pretty ambitious. We drove the 45 minutes up to our friends' house, loaded our bikes into the big pickup, and drove 2 and a half hours to the trail center, pulling into the parking lot at around 12:30. The shopkeep seemed pretty cool, and directed us to "an easy sixteen mile loop that you can do in about 3 hours". The route was highlighted on the trail map, and marked with arrows the whole way around. We said it sounded good, geared up, and started riding. The initial climb was a little steeper than we expected, but we were rewarded with a pretty sweet view.

The fun part about this trail system is that there were several points like this - places to step off the trail, relax, and check out a sweet view. Then, it's right back to singletrack:

Lots of fun trails, and lots of up and down (more than we're used to at SMBA). There's some fun little spots to explore, including the Black Lagoon:

And the Green Lagoon:

The really "cool" parts are the areas on the trail map marked with a snowflake. In these areas, a breeze blows through old mine tailings that retain snow and cold from the winter (even in July!). Nice cool down on a hot day. We cruised around the southern part of the map on a really cool trail called "Fellowship Ring". Plenty more views:

After riding Boiler Maker (fun) and TNT (technical, some hike-a-bike, but doable if we worked hard at it), we had done about 8.5 miles of the 16 mile loop, and it had taken us 3 hours.

We decided to just ride a little more, doing Zig Zag (a fun downhill trail) and Froot Loop, then heading back to the trail center. First, though, we had to stop at Inspiration Point:

All in all, we did 10 miles in about 3 hours and 45 minutes. Not bad, but I don't feel like we even put a dent in the map. I really want to go back and ride the northeast corner of the map, and there's some newer trails (like Rollercoaster) that look totally sick. After riding, we drank some Maple Soda as a recovery drink:

To really get into this place, we need to spend a couple of days here - riding about 6 hours a day. Apparently, there's a Bed & Breakfast in town with rooms for $40 a night. Definitely have to put it on the calendar this fall. On the way home, we stopped at the Inn at Long Trail for food and Guinness. Here's a black lagoon I can really get into:

Brilliant!

Last Chair: 7/8/11

2011-07-08T22:15:00.000-04:00

Well, I missed another week. Pshhh, whatever. My twitter feed appears on the right, and this is the part of the week when I review my favorite links (most of which I just put up because I've been so busy). Here we go:

I liked the idea of listing the Greatest 5 Moments in your life (inspired by this post). These two bike photo trip reports (one road, one mountain) inspire me to go create some moments for my list.

This post is so awesome, it mad me mad. Hot chicks, skiing, live music, and partying. God, I miss skiing . . .

There are new teasers out from Matchstick, Level 1, and TGR. The downloads are pretty slow, though . . . I must not be the only one missing skiing.

The video for this week, however, is the documentation of an epic trip. This is the kind of life changing experience that could make a top 5 list.

Bikerafting Alaska's Lost Coast: Yakutat to Glacier Bay. from lacemine29 on Vimeo.

Passion

2011-06-25T12:24:00.002-04:00

I’ve been thinking a lot about “passion.” What is it that makes someone passionate? How do we increase passion? Why do we lose our passion? Who are the most passionate people we know? What are they passionate about, and why are they so passionate about it?

Some of the most passionate skiers I’ve met are people who came to the sport later in life. I don’t know if it’s about “making up for lost time”, or just trying to get better at a new sport, but a lot of people who started skiing in their 30s, 40s, or 50s are out there every time I’m at the mountain – learning, evolving, progressing. When they feel like they’ve gone as far as they can go, they take a lesson to try to move up to the next level. When they have an injury or a setback, they come back from it even stronger than before. They start out as non skiers, move on to become gapers, progress further to become average weekend warriors, and then start touching the higher echelons of the sport.

I feel like I’m going through this evolution with mountain biking. The first time we went, Ace and I looked at each other and said “Is this what mountain biking is like?” “It’s so hard!” “Why are we so bruised and broken?” But, for some reason, we kept at it. Now, I feel like I have really developed a "passion" for it. When I see a tough section, instead of looking at it with dread and despair, I see it as a challenge. I want to be good enough to ride it. I want to be stronger, too. Road bike rides have gone from a way to get exercise to mountain bike-specific muscle training. I’ve been reading books and watching instructional videos trying to refine technique.

But WHY? Why do some people develop a passion for something, and other people find it to be just another enjoyable activity? After our first ride, Ace and I could’ve just said “That was fun”, and relaxed for a couple of months – similar to the people who ski once or twice a year, put the skis away, and move on to other things. But we didn’t do that. We rode again later that week. And twice the next week. And three times the week after that. Now, we ride our mountain bikes every weekend and a couple of times during the week – just like skiing.

I was thinking about this when I read an article on the Independent Fabrication Custom Bicycles blog. After recounting a harrowing crash during a 214 km “Gentleman’s Race”, the author (“G.”) spends some time in a hospital and reflects on why people push themselves the way they do. What is it that drives people (especially those in the industry)?

In my career in the outdoor and bike industries I've observed two types of folks: those that are in the space, and those that are of the space. Those that are in the space are there because at one point they may have been active participants in the sport, or they may have just been intrigued by the equipment or allure of the sport overall, but for these folks it is just the way that they make their living, not the way that they live their life.

Those that are truly of the space are a different breed, and I would argue more successful for it. They are there because it is the way they choose to live their life, and the making a living part is a gift with purchase... the marriage of passion with purpose.

I may have reached the point where more often than not I am going to be the slow man, but I refuse to give up and just be in the space. If I don't actively participate, meaning if I don't actually ride, and try to ride as hard as I can, then I am not truly of the space. My purpose will lack passion, and I might as well go do something more lucrative.

And so, I will get back on the bike as soon as I can, albeit with a new helmet, and still unwilling to accept my role as the slow man.

To truly be “of the space”, you have to have passion. Drive. Desire. After 25 years of skiing, I still have that passion. I still pore over trip reports and watch ski movies (I even put one on the other day after I couldn’t find anything on television). I still get a rush on the first skiing day of the season. I still want to get better, go bigger, and push harder. When I get to a ski area, I not only want to be “of the space”, I want to start expanding to fill the space.

I was at Sugarloaf one day in 1999 or so and Jonny Moseley showed up, fresh from his gold in the 1998 Olympics. By the end of the day, almost every kid at the mountain from age 6-16 was skiing with him. Moseley in front, huge pack of kids behind him, huge group of parents behind them. It was great! Glen Plake gets the same kind of posse when he goes on his Down Home Tours. When you are truly “of the space”, it’s not only about personal growth and personal development; it’s about inspiring others to live the dream, too (whether through instruction, blogging, or just general radness).

Passion is a strange thing. It launches careers. It fuels relationships. It drives Mother Theresa, and it drives suicide bombers. It’s not a little flicker of interest. It’s not even a fire inside. It’s a full blown inferno that can’t be extinguished. But sometimes, it does get extinguished. How do we keep it up? If we have to be “of the space”, what happens when we no longer like the space we’re in? When we want to move on to a different space?

I guess I don’t have all the answers. I just know that if I ever had to quit skiing, I’d have a hard time figuring out what do with myself through the winter. There are certain feelings that you get when you’re skiing that you can’t get anywhere else. It makes me want to do whatever it takes to repeat those feelings. I don’t think the passion could ever just go away. I haven’t really developed that sense from mountain biking yet, so I guess I’m not as ultra-passionate about that.

I mean, seriously. It’s June and I’m already watching ski movies . . . It’s going to be a long summer.

Last Chair: 6/24/11

2011-06-24T13:26:00.000-04:00

No time to do this last week, but here's my roundup of the best tweets of the week. You can follow me on Twitter @mattchuck2, or check out the feed on the right ------->

I liked this post that answers every bike forum post ever. Speaking of biking, there's even more mountain biking trails in Wilmington.

I like gear lists, and posts about preparation. Here's what goes into an epic Alaskan biking and packrafting trip. And here's how to prepare for a 500 mile race on the Colorado Trail.

Still some skiing trip reports rolling in to make me jealous. Here's a blog post from Glacier National Park and a forum post from Colorado.

Video this week is from Ski the East, when they ripped some trails near Ascutney in Vermont (someplace I hope to Mountain Bike soon).

Mountain Biking - Floodwood Pond Loop: 6/19/2011

2011-06-20T12:09:00.002-04:00

We decided to take a weekend mountain biking trip to the Adirondacks. On Saturday, we went to Whiteface to do some downhill riding. There isn't really too much to say about it except that if we're going to be doing anymore of this, we're going to need the proper gear. That means pads, shoes, and new bikes. Our xc bikes are just not equipped for the big drops, huge boulders, and off camber root sections that are present on the upper part of the mountain. The bus-accessible lower mountain was okay, but at the end of the day, I didn't really want to do it anymore. I don't really think it's something I want to pursue anyway. A couple of people there looked like they got pretty hurt - and I like to save my injuries for ski season.

On Sunday, the plan was to ride the Deer Pond loop, using a different entrance (from the north, between the Fish Creek Campground and Rollins Pond Campground). But, after finding the trail with no problem, we rode nice doubletrack for a while and came out into a meadow that didn't seem to have any exit.

We kept following false paths that we thought would lead us to where we wanted to go, but they ended in dead ends (some more beautiful than others):

So, as a backup plan, we decided to just ride the Floodwood Loop, detailed here and mapped here.

Most of the riding was really sweet. Flowing trails, not too many roots or rocks, pretty well marked (although we got sidetracked on canoe portage trails a couple of times).

It got a little muddy, and there were a couple of stream crossings that required getting off the bike, but the trail was really good all the way to Floodwood Road.

We didn't bring a map, so when we were on Floodwood Road, we debated just taking the road back to the Golf Course and riding back to the Lake House from there (an easy spin along dirt road and asphalt). That seemed boring, though. We saw the entrance to the other part of the trail and I knew that it was supposed to loop and bring us back to where we started, but it took a lot longer than we anticipated. We kept thinking that stuff would start to look familiar soon, and it never did. Also, this section (the eastern side of the loop) was a lot muddier than the other section - and looked less traveled (as in, one set of footprints and no bike tracks). In addition, there were a couple of stream crossings that had been washed out, forcing us to walk over a couple of beaver dams.

Late in the trail (within the last mile), we actually debated going backwards, back across the beaver dams, and all the way back to the road, just so we didn't get even more lost than we already were (or thought that we were). But I rode a little further and started to hear cars, so I knew we were on the right track. When I saw a sign for a portage to Fish Creek, we were golden. We rode the last half mile into the campground, out the gate, and back to the house, where we had a few IPAs while we relaxed on the dock.

Mission Accomplished.

Trail Report: Irondequoit Bay Park West, Rochester, NY

2011-06-16T22:17:00.003-04:00

I had some work to do in the Rochester area, so I booked a hotel near some bike trails, and wedged my bike into my tiny work car. After a day of driving all over the state, I got back to the hotel and got my biking gear on. The closest hotel I could find was 2.5 miles from the trailhead, so I got to ride around the streets of Rochester for a bit.

The shoulder was good the whole way, and the road riding was pretty easy (I still have my lightweight, low rolling resistance tires on from the Black Fly). It had rained a little bit during the afternoon, but it was starting to dry out just as I left the hotel. The entrance was tough to spot:

Here's a link to the trail map. I came in from the Homewood Lane entrance and hopped on the "Blue" trail. Once I got in the woods, everything was really well marked.

The singletrack was nice too.

Eventually I got into a nice stream.

I saw some fauna.

And flora.

I road the blue trail until I hit the red trail, I rode the red trail all the way around its loop, and then I played around on the orange and blue trails until I hit the road, the more official entrance off of Bay Front near a fish and game club. There was even a map at this entrance.

I had been riding around for about an hour an a half at this point, so I thought I should start making my way back to the hotel. I looked on the map and saw the green trail. It was really tough to find, and it wasn't marked out like the other trails, which led me to believe that it wasn't quite done yet. If you look close in this picture, you can see the little orange flags that they used to mark the trail out.

After a technical start with roots, rocks, and stream crossings, this trail started getting really good.

Even if it wasn't completely done:

When I got back to the stream, I hopped back on the blue trail to start the trip back to the hotel.

On the way out, I got one more glimpse of that deer. I might not be as good of a nature photographer as this guy, but at least I got the shot (albeit with my crappy point & shoot).

Back in the hotel, I figure my bike is safer in here than out in the car.

I generally don't enjoy riding alone (sort of like how I don't like skiing alone), but today was pretty fun. I like exploring new areas, and it's good to have something to do instead of sitting around in my hotel room watching golf (although I didn't realize that Ozomatli was playing a concert for $2 in downtown Rochester - that might have been fun too). If I have to do a lot of traveling this summer for work, I should always try to find a hotel with some riding nearby. I generally feel much better about myself when I'm not being a fat slob, and I'm stoked to check out new riding spots.

And unlike skiing, it's free!

Black Fly Challenge 2011 - Race Report

2011-06-12T11:55:00.004-04:00

I've never done a race report before because I don't race. Halfway through the 40-mile Black Fly Challenge, my legs tired, my face covered in mud, and sandy soil grinding at my nether regions, I remembered why. Racing is hard. Especially when you show up to race, and a drenching downpour is pounding at people's clothes, bikes, and psyches - reaffirming to the racers that this hard race would be downright brutal today.

Anyway, here are the pictures:

Nervous smiles at the start. Are we really doing this?

The start was crowded. And once we got onto the street, it was still crowded. The course started with a pretty long downhill cruise through the town of Indian Lake. It was hard to cruise at the speed that I wanted to go. At one point, I had to hop up on the sidewalk to get around a few slower people (good thing I was on the full suspension 29er). That was the last time I saw Ace (more to come on that later). For the first half hour of riding (mostly roads), I averaged 17 miles per hour - pretty good for a mountain bike. I probably could have gone faster, but I've got my bike set up as a 2x9 with a bashguard. Anyway, the asphalt soon turned to this:

This is the only picture I took while riding for a couple of reasons. One, this dirt road was no picnic. Those tire marks are really just deep, water filled mud holes. Riding through them, you don't know if the surface is firm and nice, soft and loose, or slippery and (nearly) unrideable. I never knew if I would have enough traction to whip out the camera. Two, sand was everywhere. I was dirty, the water I was drinking was dirty, and the food I was eating was dirty. It was not a good time to take out any electronics.

Once we hit dirt (about 9 miles in), the race became a grind. We wouldn't be back on asphalt for another 25 miles, so this was the situation that we had. It wasn't particularly pretty, it was wet, and it was dirty. The sand did a number on my drivetrain. I had 3 instances of chainsuck, when I had to get off the bike and yank my chain back into the proper position. Eventually, I started using water bottles from the aid stations to just wash my chainrings and cogs. My strategy was to bomb the downhills (my strength), and just survive the uphills (my weakness). This worked pretty well. I had to walk a couple of the really hard hills, and I almost slid out on a downhill going around a flooded culvert, but I made a miraculous recovery to stay on my bike.

Eventually, I got back to the paved road, and into the town of Inlet. The last couple of hills were brutal on my tired legs, but I was able to pass a couple of people on the final stretch of doubletrack (another one of my strengths).

It was a relief to finally see the finish line.

When I finally took my camera out, it was covered in sand and soaking wet. I tried to clear it out the best I could, but some of the pictures I got after the race are pretty blurry. Here's me after finishing:

And here's Ace coming across the line:

We had both wanted to finish in under 3 hours, but the conditions made that really difficult. Maybe on a normal day when the dirt roads had not turned into a sandy, soupy mess it would have been possible, but not yesterday. She was still pretty happy at the end, though (or maniacal - couldn't tell):

We had wanted to stay pretty close together (I was actually carrying her spare tube and pump in case she got a flat), but the course didn't line up with our riding styles. She's a monster on the climbs, and I made all my time on the downhills. Even if we were in the same general area, we would've yo-yoed the whole course. I felt kind of bad about leaving her, but I figured she'd be able to fend for herself - and she did, getting over a few chainsuck problems of her own, and dominating the other women in her area.

I finished in a time of 3:19:57, good enough for 5th in my division (30-39 beginneer), 107th overall (out of 344 finishers) and 55th out of the guys on mountain bikes.

Ace crossed the line in 3:39:11, finishing 1st in her division (20-29 beginner), 145th overall, and 3rd out of all girls on Mountain Bikes (including the expert and sport classifications above her). Pretty fantastic for her first race.

Complete Results Here.

After a couple of beers, they did the awards, and Ace won a bike saddle:

We were able to score a ride on the shuttle bus back to Indian Lake (which was much less complicated than the car exchanging thing we had planned), and we made it back to our car around 5:30 or so.

It's tough to describe racing. It feels like crap when you're doing it (the sand is everywhere). And after it's over, the feeling is more of relief than accomplishment. But I can see how it can be addicting. I was only 3 minutes off of 3rd in my division (I would've gotten a prize), and if I applied myself, I know I could move up the ranks. Ace is already at the top of the heap, and if she wanted to, she could actually do mountain bike races every weekend and start winning some money (the Expert division got checks - if Ace had been in that division, she would've gotten a second place check!).

But then you ask yourself if it's worth it. Mountain bike trips are a lot of fun, and if we started doing them as "training rides" instead of adventures and sessions, I feel like they'd lose a lot of their appeal. I can see doing races a couple of times a year, just as an experience (although we've decided that we want to choose races with more singletrack and less dirt road grinding). But I don't like the idea of going to a different race every weekend, seeing the same people, doing the same courses year after year, and slogging through 3 hours of rainy suffering just to have some feeble accomplishment that nobody really cares about anyway.

I'd rather just ride for fun. That way, when I'm hungry, tired, and covered in sand, I don't have to feel bad about quitting and having a beer.

UPDATE: After Surgery to my GPS unit, I can upload the route. Here it is:

Last Chair: 6/10/11

2011-06-11T21:22:00.002-04:00

Okay, so I'm a day late. Here's my tweets for the week:

I like creative posts, like this post that tells you how much beer to give someone for doing you a solid in the outdoors (loaning a pair of skis, giving you a new tube for your bike, giving a ride to the trailhead, etc.). I also like good questions, like this one that asks what kind of ski snob you are.

Steve and Patrick skied Tuckerman Ravine. 'Nuff said.

The Tour Divide Race has started. Here's a post with some convenient links for following the action. And here's a post with an adventurous warm-up for the race (mountain biking the Oregon Trail). I've got a post coming up tomorrow on my own racing experience: The Black Fly Challenge from Indian Lake to Inlet.

The video this week is Kayaking the Zion Narrows in Utah. Fan-freakin'-tastic. Almost makes me want to take up a new sport. Almost.

Tour de Cure - First Century Ride

2011-06-06T12:12:00.002-04:00

After an unsuccessful try at 100 miles in the Tour de Cure last year (tire blowout + 5 tubes = only 63 miles), I had a score to settle with the course. The weather was much better than last year, and we started with smiles:

The first 25 miles went by super easy. Sunny skies, in and out of different groups, and cruising at around 18 mph.

After the first rest station, where I pounded 3 cupcakes and an orange, we got a little lost. The groups had split up, there was nobody in front of us, and we must have missed a turn. Ace and I (plus another poor guy who followed us) started down some roads that didn't look too familiar (we had both ridden this section last year). I was able to guide us back on course using some side roads around Galway, and it turned out that we actually cut off a little of the course (about a mile and a half).

The middle 50 miles didn't feel so bad. There were a couple of big hills, but they weren't so tough. We stopped at another rest area for water. I ate an energy muffin and a half PB&J Sandwich, plus I stuffed some cliff bars in my back pocket. After around 70 miles we made the climb up to the Conklingville Dam. This was probably the hardest climb of the day. Here's Ace at the top:

It clouded up a little as we coasted down towards the Hadley Bow Bridge, but we were still feeling pretty good physically and mentally.

I started really feeling it in my legs around 80 miles in, right about the time I took this picture of Ace:

The last section would have been pretty easy riding on a normal day, but because I knew I was in the homestretch, every little roller of a hill felt like a beast of a mountain. I kept looking as the odometer, and expecting it to say a higher number (preferably, a number really close to 100). Eventually, I pounded the two cliff bars in my pocket, drank some water, and felt better about turning the cranks. I crossed the finish line, rode around a little bit to make up for the section that we cut off when we got lost, and there it was:

Here's the complete route, including the slight detour when we got lost and additional riding at the end to make it an even 100:

I felt pretty good when I finished, and I feel pretty good today. I think that, with proper fuel, water and energy, I could go even longer. Not saying I want to do a RAAM or an Ironman anytime soon (I don't think I could possibly comprehend the idea of running a marathon right after I finished), but I think I could be persuaded to do another century in the fall . . . An off-road century, something like the White Rim in a day seems like it'd be fun. For now, though, I'm going to have some leftover pizza and beer from last night's post ride celebration. I bet it won't taste as good as it did yesterday.

Last Chair: 6/3/11

2011-06-03T21:02:00.002-04:00

Okay, it's the time of week when I sum up the stuff I've been checking out on the internets. The links appear in the feed on the right (when I'm not too lazy or busy to update it). Here we go:

An important addition to my hot skier chick post last fall (brought to my attention by Patrick at Ski Mad World): Vanessa Aadland is now my favorite skier ever. She just dropped a sick BN line, and wrote up the description. Awesome. Oh, and here's the picture (although if I had to nitpick, it looks like she could use a little bit more inside leg angulation):

People are still skiing. This report from the Sierra Nevada and this report from Alaska were pretty sweet.

Gentlemanly Bike rides are in. Here's a link to some Rapha Gentlemen, and here's a video brought to my attention by Biz at the Buffalo Dandy. The blog is about men's fashion (so it might not really be what you're into), but it's pretty well done, and really well designed (Biz is an excellent Graphic Designer).

The Seersucker Social from Brandon Bloch on Vimeo.

Kingdom Trails: Trip Report

2011-06-01T21:37:00.002-04:00

Well, I don't really have too much to say about the Kingdom Trails, except for this: If you have never been, and you live in the East and ride bikes (any bikes - road, mountain, beach cruiser), you should definitely plan a trip. The trails aren't difficult (the hardest trail - Jaw - wasn't open). We were saying how the Black Trails there are easier than the Blue Trails at SMBA (which we rode today - getting completely wrecked by mosquitoes).

Our game plan for the first day (Saturday) was to mimic the day that Ace and I spent there last year. We rode our favorites from that day - Tap and Die, Webs, Old Webs (with an important stop at the cookie hut on top). In addition, we rode a bunch of trails that we never got to on the front side Pines, Cat Box Hill, Knob, Riverwood and Kitchel (which was a super cool downhill run with huge banked turns, airs, and drop offs) . All in all, we put in about 5 hours of climbing, cruising, coasting, and cookies.

The second day, we were not as pumped to get out there. We had ridden hard all day (a lot harder than last year - extra people + better fitness = more saddle time). Plus, the weather was kind of iffy (overcast with rumbles of thunder in the distance). We talked about taking the day off, but we decided to press on - it was a good thing we did. We rode Pound Cake all the way out to Coronary Bypass (not possible the first day because of an enormous group in front of us on Pound Cake). After that, we did the Pastore Point loop, which made for some good photo ops above the river.

Then, after Webs, River Run, and a climb up the switchbacks of Old Webs, we took a much needed cookie break.

We cruised down the fun part of Old Webs after we heard how great Sidewinder was - from multiple people. They were right. It was my favorite trail of the day - a bigger scale version of Halfpipe at Pine Hill Park. After the climb back up to the road (we finally figured out that we like climbing on singletrack a lot better than climbing on fire roads), we dropped back down the other side.

We were pretty beat after a nice singletrack run on Culvert Cut, so we cruised through Maple Tapping lines back to the top of Kitchel. We were going to make one final epic helmet cam movie from the top, but my batteries died. After some ice cream in town and a quick battery change, we fooled around on the pump track for a while, but our legs were pretty shot.

All in all, we did a little under 10 hours of riding for the two days, camped for 3 nights in a car trailer, ate 3 maple squares, 2 whoopie pies, garlic knots, pizza, quesadillas, and about 20 gu packets. We had a fantastic time, and now have great stories to tell, and funny times to reference. I've got one more video to share. Nicely edited, more material, and music that hasn't been yanked - It was made by our friend Jared (the guy getting air in the first picture and getting whoopie pies in the "Market Cafe" picture). Enjoy:

Kingdom Trails: 5/28-5/30/2011

2011-05-30T23:06:00.003-04:00

Rode the Kingdom Trails in East Burke, VT over the Memorial Day Weekend. It was fantastic. I'll give a full report later in the week, but here's a quick edit I made with some GoPro footage that I got on Sunday. I know how boring straight GoPro Footage can be, so I tried to mix it up a little bit with other riders and unique camera angles (I put it backwards on my helmet for a while and shot my friends behind me - ended up being a little bit of a commercial for Camelback, but it came out pretty cool). If nothing else, the video shows how awesome the trails at the Kingdom are. Here it is:

EDIT: Damn it, audio disabled by Youtube . . . I'll fix this tomorrow . . .

EDIT: Hopefully fixed?

Untitled from Matt Charles on Vimeo.

Last Chair: 5/26/11

2011-05-27T14:12:00.001-04:00

This is the post that wraps up the blog posts, articles, and trip reports that I've been checking out over the past week. When I see cool stuff, I post it on my twitter, and the feed appears on the right side of this page.

Well, it was a slow week for skiing and mountain biking stuff. It was so slow, if fact, that I started reading some running stuff (and I despise running). The Saratoga Skier and Hiker had a great post that almost got me out on the trails - but only because I love great quotes, and his post was filled with them. Incidentally, if I did get into running, it would be more trail running and less marathons.

A couple of nice mountain bike reports from a place I'm dying to visit: Moab, UT. Here's one from MTB Racer Jeff Kerkove. And here's one from a hot chick on TGR (the Mags must be getting more mature . . . not even a single comment about T or A).

And if I ever decide to write a book about the outdoors, or activities, or life (and I actually have some ideas), Jill seems to have a pretty good way to get it published.

Finally, here's some GoPro footage of a freakin' Lion!

Last Chair: 5/20/11

2011-05-20T22:28:00.000-04:00

Time for my weekly roundup of the cool stuff on the web that I've been putting on Twitter for the past week. My twitter feed appears at the right, or you can follow me @mattchuck2. Okay, without further ado, here we go:

I made a note that I wanted to mountain bike Fruita, Colorado when I saw this post and this video.

Loved this post. A guy tries to drive his ski bum van and have a winter of craziness at all sorts of Western Resorts. Unfortunately (or fortunately), he gets stuck in Jackson Hole.

This post came on my 31st birthday. It was about achieving your lifelong dreams, and doing what you love. It made me want to make my life better.

The video for the week is a Heli downhill DH mountain Bike race. Not too shabby:

Bike Commuting

2011-05-20T21:56:00.004-04:00

Well, I took part in National Bike Commuting day today. It was . . . interesting. The ride in was kind of rough. Really threatening weather to start out:

And it soon went from bad to worse. I ended up riding a major route with a lot of traffic, combined with a drenching rain . . .

Eventually, it let up a little (and I was able to get off the main roads), and I was finally feeling good about the road in.

I finally got into work (a little late), and I found that 2 other people participated in Bike to Work Day. Actually, these guys always ride their bikes in (I see them every day) so really, I was the only person who partook.

I gotta say, I wasn't too too excited about biking in. It's kind of stressful (possibly more stressful than driving in). Plus I have to get up earlier - something I hate to do. And all I got out of it was about $2.00 - the equivalent of the half gallon of gas it usually takes me to drive the 12.8 miles to the office.

On the way home, I waited for a break in the weather (so I wouldn't be riding through rain again), and got out on the roads.

Needless to say, it was a lot better than the morning ride. I was able to take off my raincoat, ride in short sleeves and enjoy the biking. I even saw a deer bounding through the forest next to me. I was feeling so good, I chose a different route, one that included less main thoroughfares and more secluded bike paths. It got really, really nice.

I'm never going to be like this guy. But I can see myself doing this a little more throughout the summer. I felt really good after the ride today. Besides the woman who honked at me, and the weird dude who let out a guttural scream in my direction, there were no problems at all. Traffic seemed a little heavier today (heavier than the time I commuted earlier in the year), but drivers were mostly courteous. I still saw a couple of dirt paths that I wanted to explore:

And my bottom bracket developed a bit of a clicking sound. I'm hoping that will go away when my bike dries out a little (I realize that's not likely). All in all, though, I had a pretty good time bike commuting today. I felt fitter, happier, and more prepared for the 100 mile Tour de Cure that I'm riding on June 5th. I'm looking forward to a few more bike commutes before then.

Choice

2011-05-18T22:18:00.002-04:00

I have over 500 channels on my cable TV. Actually, I have over 1800, but a bunch of those are sports package channels, music channels, and HD duplicate channels. I'm not picky, so I watch everything from ESPN to the Style Network, The History Channel to E!. I get HBO. I have Netflix movies delivered to my house. I can get movies and television shows through my cable box, my Xbox, and my laptop. And what do I do every night? I flip through each channel, browse each movie source, and decide that there is absolutely nothing that I want to watch. I usually settle on the Mets game (which is invariably disappointing).

I only mention this because I've been thinking about choice. More specifically, I've been asking myself why, when I have so many options in my life (TV options, movie theater options, weekend vacation options), why I still feel like I need more. When I scroll by the Showtime (a channel I don't get), sometimes I see a movie that I'd like to watch, and I briefly contemplate purchasing Showtime. Today, while watching the Tour of California, I contemplated trying to hook up an antenna so I could get the Universal Sports feed of the Giro d'Italia. Every week, Ace and I try to use a pair of free movie tickets that we have, and every week we decide that there's nothing in the theaters that's worth watching. Every time I try to decide what to do on the weekend, I look at some options and decide that I want to do other things. I wish that I lived in Colorado so that I could mountain bike Fruita, or ski A-basin.

All of this leads to the "Paradox of Choice", which is really nicely described in this Youtube video (but it is long, so I summarize the main points below):

The Professor at Swarthmore College explains that there are four ways that more choices actually make us less happy:

1. It produces paralysis, rather than liberation. With so many options to choose from, people find it very difficult to choose at all.

2. Even if we manage to overcome the paralysis and make a choice, we end up less satisfied with the result of the choice than we would be if we had fewer options to choose from.

3. Escalation of Expectations

4. When people make decisions, and even though the results of the decisions are good, they feel disappointed about them - They blame themselves.

The reason that I've been looking at this sort of stuff is this: I'm thinking of buying another bike. And I'm getting paralyzed by the decision. I don't even know what type of bike I want. Some friends want to do a lot of downhill biking this summer (at Whiteface, Plattekill, etc.), so I was thinking of getting a cheap craigslist dh bike that I can throw on the back of a lift, in the bottom of a shuttle bus, or off a rock drop, and not care about it.

Other times, like today on my short little bike ride around the neighborhood (just trying to get something in before I got rained on again), I want something more along the lines of a "Gravel Grinder". I came upon this path:

Whenever I'm on my road bike, and I see a path like that, I always want to take it to see where it goes. But my skinny little road bike tires can't handle it. I'd also like to get into "bikepacking", and a gravel grinder that could fit 29x2.0 tires would be perfect for something like the GDMBR. I keep on looking at the Origin 8 CX700, a cross frame built for touring, durability, and 29x2.1 tires.

Still other times, I want a sweet 29er singlespeed that I can convert to a geared bike for races and bikepacking. I was thinking about this when I was in Ellicottville for work last week (from what I hear, PRIME mountain bike territory). I couldn't jam my enormous full suspension 29er into my little office car, so I didn't get to ride while I was out there. But if I had a nice, simple singlespeed like a Niner SIR 9, especially one like this with S&S couplers, I could fit it into my work vehicle, or into a plane to go visit my bother and ride Sedona, or into a train for a European bike adventure, etc.

And the worst part of all of this is: I don't need a bike. I have a perfectly good road bike, and a perfectly good mountain bike. And here, the paradox of choice will work twice:

First, I will become paralyzed with all of these bike choices. When I finally choose my bike, I will inevitably be disappointed when I can't do all the things that I could've had I made a different choice (if I get the singlespeed, I won't be able to use it at Whiteface, so I'll have to rent). Then I'll blame myself for having to pay the $80 for renting.

Then, if I do end up getting a bike, I'll have to go through a stupid choice every time I ride. Should I go road biking or mountain biking? What about a mix? Maybe I'll take the gravel grinder out for some doubletrack. But when I get on to some trails, and I start having all sorts of fun, I'll wish I brought the mountain bike so I could hit more technical trails, and I'll blame myself for making the wrong decision.

Ugh.

So, after thinking about it for a little while, I bought . . . One new tire for my mountain bike. Now should I put it on the front wheel or the back? Hmmmmm . . . .

Last Chair: 5/13/11

2011-05-14T09:06:00.000-04:00

I've been slacking a little on my twitter feed, and my weekly update is coming one day late. Ehhh, whatever. Here's the stories I found interesting in the last two weeks (last week was vacation).

As this is still the transition period, I linked to a mix of Skiing (Famous Internet Skiers) and Biking (Big Wheel Building) posts.

I liked this post about "getting after it" and not making excuses for the situation you're in.

And two videos this week. The first is the guy who lived across the hall from me in college (Warner Nickerson), ripping up Sweden with Jon Olsson.

Team TNT - We´re having fun! from Kristofer Fahlgren on Vimeo.

And the next is a cool little bike film that inspires me to ride my bike more:

Blogging, St. Kitts, and Upcoming Events

2011-05-10T20:49:00.001-04:00

I've been taking a break from the blog lately. I have a good reason, though: I've been on vacation in the Caribbean - St. Kitts to be exact. Sometimes, when you have a blog, you get behind in your stuff, you start to think that you need a really, really good post to come back with, and you end up letting your blog fade away. And sometimes the opposite happens - you come back with a really, really wordy post that bores everyone and drives the few remaining people who follow your blog away.

So I'm not going to do that. Here are some pictures from St. Kitts:

It was definitely a good trip. Played some golf, did some snorkeling, rode a mountain bike with the Triathlon Champion of St. Kitts - Nevis, and got some quality beach-laying in. Plus there was this:

Sugarloaf Sticker in a beach bar in St. Kitts? Nobody can stop Eastern Skiing!

Now, I'm back at work (and back on the road - at a hotel in Ellicottville, NY for 3 days).

I'm a little bummed because I wanted to get some bike time in. The first few weeks of June, I have a two week stretch that includes the 100 mile Tour de Cure and the 40 mile Black Fly Challenge. I haven't been the model for athletic training lately. It's not technically my fault, the food in St. Kitts was really good and the beach-laying was so relaxing. Then today, I had to hit up the Ellicottville Brewing Company, one of my favorite ski town bars in the east. Great food and beer, but I had no energy to hit up the exercise bike in the hotel - Gotta get that energy up if I'm going to be ready for 100 miles on June 5th. Time to get to work.

Last Chair: 4/29/11

2011-04-29T18:18:00.000-04:00

I've really been slacking on the blogging lately. Although, to be fair, it's because I've been out livin'. Did Mountain Bike rides on Sunday (909) and Wednesday (SMBA), and Road Bike rides Tuesday and Thursday. Monday was Golf.

Anyways, it's the time of the week where I recap what I've been tweeting (although I might have slacked off on that a bit, too). If you want to follow me, my handle is @mattchuck2 and my posts appear on the right of this page. Here we go:

I've reached the point where I'm getting angry about great skiing trip reports like this one. It's not that I don't like sweet skiing pictures, it's that I don't like seeing them when I don't have any access to the gnar myself. This Mountain Biking trip report fuels the stoke a little better (because it's more relatable).

Crazy pictures from the last day of '10/'11 at Aspen Highlands. These guys just have to remember that you can't live on beer alone (apparently).

I retweeted this report of a guy still skiing Mount Marcy. I'd get up there this weekend, but I'm going somewhere else. Where? Pay attention to the blog next week. In the meantime, check out this sweet video of Parker White busting a huge triple off a jump at Sun Valley.

Parker White Sun Valley Triple from Level 1 on Vimeo.

Last Chair: 4/22/11

2011-04-22T22:09:00.001-04:00

Okay. We've come to the end of another week, and here's the recap of my week on the twitter feed. You can find me @mattchuck2, or the posts appear over there --->. Here we go:

I don't generally vote Republican, but a guy who almost announced his Presidential Ambitions on Tuckerman Ravine has my attention. The video here and the support for legalized marijuana furthers his cause.

I loved the year-in-review photo montages posted by Jeff at the Saratoga Skier and Hiker (East), and "Badekoo" on the TGR Forums (West)

I posted Bobby Brown's first ever Triple Cork, but now it seems like everyone's throwing them.

Finally, I liked this video about a group of college kids who took their summer break and spent 52 days paddling across the Yukon and Northwest Territories. It's kind of long (46 minutes), but it's got some great scenery and it looks like everyone had a fantastic time.

Voyageur II - 2010 from Emma on Vimeo.

Last Day at Gore - 4/17/11

2011-04-19T20:13:00.005-04:00

People generally have a feeling of anxiety as the ski season winds down. On Sunday, I felt a general malaise. I had heard that the skiing was kind of crappy on Saturday, cold and snowy - nowhere near the epic spring conditions that we had enjoyed the previous weekend. I figured that the weekend of the 9th and 10th would serve as a pretty good bookend to an excellent season of resort skiing (definitely the best in the past 3-4 years). Besides, I had gone to the SMBA Trail Maintenance Day on Saturday, built some bridges, moved some rock, and rode my mountain bike for about 3 hours in the afternoon. I was really starting to get into the summer frame of mind, and freezing my ass off on a windy Sunday wasn't really something I wanted to do.

But when you're a skier, you ski.

That's what you do.

So I ate some breakfast, waited until around 10:30, filled my car with $4 gas and drove up to the mountain. Things started off kind of strange when a woman stopped me in the parking lot and asked me if I thought it was worth it.

"What?"

"Do you think it's worth skiing today? We usually ski Whiteface, but all the lifts were on wind hold, so we drove down here."

"Well, you're already here, so you might as well get in some runs."

"Is that it?"

"What?"

"Is that the whole mountain?"

"No, don't worry, there's a whole 'nother mountain area behind that one. It's the last day, I'm going skiing."

After that strange exchange, I booted up and got on the lifts around 11:45. It started off cloudy, dreary, and cold. And they had lost a lot of snow from the previous weekend. But at least the place was empty.

We skied Uncas down to the Straightbrook chair. It was okay, nothing special, but okay. Then we did Hullabaloo, Darby Woods, and some off the map glades down to the Darkside Chair. Those were interesting. Fun to ski trees on April 17th. Then we looked at the top of Lies, but it was super sketchy (icy crust that broke into fragments that looked like shattered glass). We skied Straightbrook Glades and Reaper, both of which involved careful line selection to avoid getting trapped in a snowless dead end.

We felt that everything could use some more time to warm up, so we headed down to Topridge to do some runs in the hazy sun that was trying to break through the clouds. The snow on Topridge and Uncas was a lot better than the snow higher up (corn vs. granular), so we did a lap of each. Then, as we rode the Topridge Chair we saw some people poaching Rumor.

Later I heard a story that there was a call over the Patrol's radio:

"There are 5 people in dark jackets poaching Rumor!!! We can get them at Headwaters"

"Just let them go"

Shortly thereafter, Rumor was open for business

(Sorry for the crappy pics today, All I had was my cell phone. Also, that photo has a warm filter on it)

After 4 laps of Rumor, we called it a day. The scene on the deck was pretty mellow. The sun had come out, but it was still cool. There were lots of extended breaks and pregnant pauses in the conversation. Lots of looking up at the mountain with silent stares. I couldn't tell if everyone was longing for more skiing time, or just reflecting on a solid year. For me, it was a little of both. "Anticipatory satisfaction". In fact, the whole thing reminded me of the second to last scene in Ocean's 11. It's like we just pulled off an wholly unbelievable heist, and we're all looking forward to whatever comes next.

And when it was time to go, we left in the same way. One by one, we said our goodbyes and walked off. Some people I'll see over the summer, but some I won't see until next year. How do I know I'll see them next year? Well, they're just like me. They're skiers.

And yes, it's always worth it.

Last Chair: 4/15/11

2011-04-15T16:52:00.002-04:00

Been a busy week for me (so no blog posts), but I'll still run with my weekly wrap up of all the blog posts and forum threads that I found interesting over the course of the week. If you follow me on twitter (@mattchuck2), you can get all of this tasty goodness even sooner. Here's what I found this week:

I loved the eastern trip reports from last weekend. Steve's reports on Gore and Whiteface, and Gord's report on Jay Peak. I also like this report of a BC trip that didn't go as planned.

I was bummed that I missed this retro ski fest in Tremblant, but I don't think I could've fielded a team that could've beaten Vincent Dorion, Phil Poirier and J.P. Auclair anyway.

Here's a nice little Kayaking TR from the nature preserve right down the street from my house.

And finally, I really dug this little 12 minute movie about trying to live an outdoor life while also holding down a soul crushing job (which is basically the theme of my whole blog).

Last Chair: 4/8/11

2011-04-08T18:07:00.001-04:00

Okay. It's that time of week, when I review the most interesting stuff on the internet for the past week from my twitter feed (which you can follow on the right). Skiing is winding down, but still plenty of cool stuff to check out.

Bolton Valley is offering $25 Lift tickets if you have a baseball logo on your clothes . . . Time to dig out that Kevin McRenyolds Jersey.

My favorite trip reports of the week are here, here and here.

Hopefully some progress on a Saranac Lake to Lake Placid Bike Trail (alongside the railroad tracks). And Whiteface has season passes for mountain biking on sale for $199 (April only).

And finally, here's a video that's sweeping the internet. Crazy bastards in wingsuits buzzing some Norwegian Bros:

The Secret to Happiness (May not be Transferable)

2011-04-06T19:00:00.002-04:00

Every once in a while I like to take a step back and look at where I am in my life, what I’m doing, where I want to be in my life, and what I want to do. I was saying last night that, ultimately, the only person responsible for your happiness is you. So you have to take whatever steps are necessary to get yourself in a happy place. And I’m in a pretty happy place right now.

Sure, there are some problems: my house is looking a little haggard, my car still needs $1000 worth of repairs to fix some wheel sensors, my bank account is depressingly lacking in funds. But I am feeling pretty optimistic about the next few years. I’m not a religious guy, but I think I’ve stumbled onto a pretty good life fulfillment strategy. It may not work for everyone, but it works for me. Here’s how it goes:

1. Do cool things with cool people
2. Remember the good times
3. Plan the next adventure

That’s it. If you’re lucky (like I am), your family is a composed of a group of cool people that you like doing things with - especially your kick ass wife. If you’re REALLY lucky, your job consists of doing cool things with cool people (I’m pretty damn close, but not completely there). But it’s definitely acceptable to do your cool things in your free time, too (and use the work days to recover). And I recognize that life isn’t always rainbows and lollipops, but there’s no harm in trying to put more of that good stuff in your life. Some guy known as “Uncle Dan”, whose blog is here, talks about when he started mountain biking:

I started meeting some great people on the trails, in the bike shops and mainly at the trailheads. About 90% of them had this crazy gleam in their eyes and all shared a passion for life that I was not used to. Its kind of like hanging out at a ski resort . . . where everyone is there to have a good time, nobody is lazy, and for the most part everyone is in a good mood and getting along with everyone else - yea, that.

I truly believe that’s how life should feel all the time (or at least most of the time). As for #2, I believe that it logically follows #1: If you’re going to do all this cool stuff, at least remember all the stuff you did. I, for one, have a terrible memory. So photography, blogging, and late night drunken story telling are great ways to relive the awesome times I had. Even though Bruce Springsteen sings that he hopes he doesn’t sit around talking about his “Glory Days”, he admits that he probably will. And that’s okay. Check out this post about Alaska on Adventure Journal:

The land is alive with history — my history. Visiting one island, I still see the 25-year-old kid I used to be, running down a deer trail and arriving breathless on a beach, just in time to see my first breaching whale. Near one of the glaciers, I recall when collapsing ice sent out unusually big waves that nearly stripped me from the shore as I clung to a rocky ledge. There’s the ice-peppered bay where my wife and I were married on a boat among our closest friends and family. With so much history here, I feel like the place owns me.

That’s why I’m enjoying photography so much. As I look back on my pictures, I want to feel the feelings I had when they were taken (whatever those feelings were): Happiness, Relaxation, Exhaustion, Elation, Gratitude, etc. As for #3, that’s just to keep me from being sedate. It’s so easy in this world to fall into a routine: Get up, work, go back to bed, repeat. I want new experiences. I want to go places I’ve never been, taste things I’ve never tried, do things I’ve never done. #3 is about looking towards the horizon, putting your toes in the surf, and then diving in (no matter how much of a shock the cold water is). It’s about getting off the couch, getting outside, and doing something. Here’s some inspiration from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

These blog posts are my footprints. Enjoy the walk.

Gore Mountain (4/2-4/3/11)

2011-04-04T20:54:00.002-04:00

Thought I'd throw a couple of pictures up from this weekend. If you weren't skiing this weekend, you're missin' out. There's plenty of snow left, and you gotta get out there. It was phenomenal skiing. Although I'm kind of bummed about my skiing photography. I try to not interrupt the flow of the day, so I mostly try to ski ahead, whip out the camera, throw it on "Sports Mode" (which fires a bunch of shots in sequence), and slam the shutter button. If I really wanted good pictures, I think I'd have to take more time to set up shots, have a skier ski through a certain section, make sure I locked the exposure by focusing on the sky and returning back to my shot, blah, blah, blah. Then, I'd go back and do all sorts of post processing back home on my computer, make sure every pic is to my liking, and post on the internet with a witty caption.

I guess it's no secret that I'm not doing all that stuff. As soon as I get a little faster, I'll be able to do more and more, but right now, I'm still a little slow on the trigger. Anyway, without further ado, here are some results (without witty captions):

Last Chair: 4/1/11

2011-04-01T16:49:00.002-04:00

I think "Last Chair" used to be the name of the final article in Skiing Magazine, but since they're no longer using it, it's mine now. This is the time when I recap the best stories of the week that I put on my Twitter (which you can follow on the right). Here you go:

Slightly Geology Geek of me, but I thought this article on a Paleontology Dig near Aspen was great (especially when they mention that mammoth tusks could've been the first rockered skis).

How to do Pond Skim Day in 25 easy steps (hilarious "recounting" of a wild day).

Really nice Photography in these 2 TGR Trip Reports (here and here).

And finally, Kent's Bike Blog has a really, really good post on #30DaysofBiking. I'll let him explain what it is, but I did want to put up my first ever tweeted picture in honor of the philosophy he explains.

I'll be up at Gore on Saturday, and I might be doing an adventure on Sunday . . . I'll post something up when I get home. Have a great weekend everybody!!!

Monroe Skyline Trail (Aborted)

2011-03-29T19:37:00.002-04:00

It seemed like a great plan at the time . . .

We had a scheme to try to see some of the PSIA Alpine Level 3 exam yesterday (March 28th), but get around the $78 price for a full day (midweek) lift ticket at Sugarbush, VT. Our plan was to get a single ride on the Mad River Glen Single Chair, slap on some skins, and traverse the portion of the Long Trail that runs between Lincoln Peak (Sugarbush) and Stark Mountain (MRG). We envisioned a triumphant ski down at the end of the day at Sugarbush, a beer in the bar, and a bunch of stories about our epic 5.5 mile hike.

Unfortunately, I completely missed the trail. The guidebook said that the trail would be pretty clearly marked with white blazes on the trees. Unfortunately, with the pretty fantastic amount of snow they got this year, the white blazes must have all been covered up. As guide (i.e. the only one who had read the book), I poked around skier's right of Antelope, but could not find the trail to save my life. I kept diving in the woods and going further and further right, only to be closed out. We eventually ended up somewhere around the 20th hole (for those familiar with MRG).

I though we should kind of hike in a little bit further, just to see how much we missed the trail by, so we set off on a pretty well trafficked traverse:

We even strapped on the skins and went up towards the ridgeline for about 20 minutes. After Sugarbush North came into view, though, it was clear that we were not even close to where we wanted to be. We decided to just ski back out to the 20th hole and go down to the base lodge from there.

We took another run, just to see if we could find the trail at the top. I noticed a faint yellow ribbon in a tree just about where Antelope makes a sharp turn to the left. I followed the wind loaded, bumpy terrain up the ridge until I found another yellow ribbon and a faint, wind exposed, narrow trail in the altitude shortened trees. Jackpot. Don't know if I'm going to get back here this year, but it definitely feels like something I want to try at some point. I still want that celebratory beer.

In other news, I went to Pittsburgh on Saturday and Sunday (so I didn't get any skiing in), but Ace has been up at Killington and Stowe for the past few days and it sounds like she's got some great stories. Maybe I can convince her to write a guest blog post. I'm thinking of adding a regular Friday feature which will basically be a link dump of all of the ski stories I found interesting over the past week. I have a Google Reader account with just about every ski blog (and a few bike blogs), and I'm constantly "sharing" things, but they aren't going anywhere. I finally found a way to "share" them to my twitter (@mattchuck2), so they'll pop up there, and then I'll compile the best of the week into a Friday "Big Dump" (or something more clever if I can come up with a better title). So look for that as the latest addition to the blogging phenomenon known as ski=mc2.

Sugarbush PSIA Exam (Day 2)

2011-03-21T17:48:00.002-04:00

I made it. I am now a PSIA Level 3 Certified Skier in Telemark Skiing (and Alpine, which I did in 2008).

I have to say, after going through several other exams in my 10 year ski instructing career, I thought I would feel the same way after this test as I did after my Level 3 Alpine exam. But I felt completely different. It was weird, really. On my Alpine exams, and earlier Tele exams, I almost felt entitled to the pins (pins being the awards given out in PSIA - Bronze for Level 1, Silver for Level 2, and Gold for Level 3). Maybe "entitled" isn't the right word, but I felt as if I was skiing and teaching at a ridiculously high level, and that I deserved everything that I was getting and more. I was actually waiting for them to just dispense with the formalities and start promoting me to higher and higher posts in the organization simply because of my awesomeness.

Okay, maybe I wasn't that crazy about it, but I did have a certain attitude about everything. On Sunday, it was completely different. After the exam, I skied an extra run and started talking about how I've changed as an instructor and as a person. Instead of arguing one side to the death, I've started trying to see the other side. Instead of taking issue, I've started letting things slide. Instead of making definitive statements, I've started to ask more questions. Maybe it's partly because I'm getting older and wiser, or maybe it's because of experiences like the one I had on Sunday.

In addition to the two Level 3 candidates in my group, there were three candidates for the Development Team (above Level 3 and at the point where they would be instructing other instructors). Over the course of the two days, each was able to affect my skiing in a positive way. If I hadn't been open to their teaching, I never would have had the breakthroughs that I had. Whether it was driving my lead leg around the bottom of a bump, matching my hands to the pitch of the hill more, or slowing everything down to really feel my releasing movements, every one of the Dev Team candidates helped my tele technique.

But that's not the only reason that I felt different this time around. The Nordic PSIA examiners are a little more . . . umm . . . expressive than the Alpine Examiners. I feel like they wear their heart on their sleeve a little bit more. They really want you to do well. And you end up wanting to do well not just for yourself, but for all of those guys (who've helped you get there). When they finally read my name and I looked at Mark and Mickey, I felt something that was a far cry from the feeling I had when I got my Alpine level 3. It was a feeling that can only come after you've been built up, knocked down, and built back up again. A feeling that doesn't say "It's about time", but instead shows what all of their time was about. A feeling that seems to be increasingly rare (but desperately needed) in the world today:

Gratitude.

Sugarbush PSIA Exam (Day 1)

2011-03-19T18:35:00.003-04:00

I had a pretty good day of skiing and teaching today. I'm going to head out to dinner now, but I'll update this post when I get back. For now, here's a picture that I took at the end of the day to tide you over.

UPDATE:

So, today was was I would consider a good exam day. We had some good skiers, we bounced some teaching stuff off of each other, and most importantly, we had a good time. I'm going to go into some of the exam stuff, and this might get a little wonky, so feel free to scan past this stuff.

We did a couple of short little teaching segments in the morning, and I had a little thing I wanted to try with synchronized skiing and a little twist on synchro skiing (rear person skis synchro turns, but moves alongside the front person, then drops back, then goes to the other side). It worked okay, but it was a little tough with the amount of people on the trail, and the fact that I flew off the side of the trail during my demo. So, rough on class handling, okay on the basic idea.

Then we did a lot of skiing, I thought I was skiing pretty damn good (if I do say so myself), especially in the hard, icy bumps (conditions du jour, as the tele guys call it). I felt a little less confident in the hardpack (icy) groomers, but, I still felt like my turns were pretty solid. My second teaching segment ("bring your own"), I focused on the movements necessary to move the downhill leg into the next turn (movements in the foot, ankle, and femur). I think it went pretty well, bur my only regret was not giving everybody a chance to ski it out at the end (it's always important to give people a chance to play with a new movement in regular turns). I also tried to give some individual feedback, but I don't know if I did enough.

I feel pretty good about how everything went today, and I have a killer lesson plan for tomorrow (if given the chance), so I'm feeling pretty confident. I just have to keep skiing athletically, keep teaching descriptively, and keep discussing organically (if that makes any sense).

My hip is feeling a lot better today (after taking some Advil), so I'm going to keep pounding pills and pushing hard. Right now, though, I'm going to rest up for another big day tomorrow. Peace.

Mad River Glen (Day 2)

2011-03-17T18:17:00.003-04:00

Killer day at the mountain today. I was skiing really well, feeling great, and then, right before lunch, I hip checked on a steep section and pain shot all the way up my leg. Not good. I skied the rest of the afternoon, but now that I'm just sitting here typing, I can feel my hip stiffening up. The PSIA Level 3 exam is on Saturday, and it pains me to walk down stairs. Ugh.

Anyway, though, I had a great time today, and I had my camera with me all morning, so here are some shots from my first great spring skiing day of the year.

I like the last picture the best. Blue sky, soft bumps, and the single chair. Classic MRG. I didn't really improve my skiing too much over the past two days (probably too late to make adjustments at this point anyway), but I definitely improved my eye - diagnosing the problems with people's turns, and providing the right ways to fix the problems. I'm probably going to bag the BC trip tomorrow to give my hip a rest, and I might go over to Sugarbush to explore some of the terrain we'll be skiing for the exam. Ice and beer tonight, Sun and snow tomorrow.

Mad River Glen, PSIA, and Blogging

2011-03-16T19:51:00.003-04:00

Where am I?

This was our view for most of the day (except when we were in that cloud and our view was "chowdah"). Give up? Here's another pic:

Okay, maybe that one gave it away (How many mountains have a single chair? With "Mad River Glen" written on it?). I think this is my first Mad River Glen visit (couldn't remember if I came here as a kid), and I gotta say: I'm a fan. Nice to see a place that doesn't put grooming, groms, and "guest services" above everything else.

Today was kind of windy/rainy/soft/cruddy, so I didn't want to bring the camera out with me. Tomorrow is supposed to be sunny and warm, and there are $17 lift tickets for people who wear green, so I'll try to bring the camera tomorrow and snap some crazy pictures of crazy people.

I'm here for a PSIA event, and there is a dearth of PSIA material online. I think this might be because people are trying to work on their ski instructing careers, and don't want to jeopardize it by posting things about PSIA on the internet. Well, I'm going to change that. I love the fact that people like "The Rusty" post some of their tricks, tips and tactics online. And I love it when people get down and dirty and discuss ski instructing on Epicski. I may not participate in their ridiculous discussions on proper edge angles or inside leg steering, but I read a fair amount of it, and the back and forth has really helped my instruction.

So here it goes: I'm taking a trees and steeps clinic at Mad River Glen today and tomorrow. On Friday, I'm probably going to do some backcountry in the Camel's Back area, and then I'm taking my Level III Telemark Exam at Sugarbush on Saturday and Sunday. My intent is to blog about the entire experience. If PSIA doesn't like that, than I guess I'll fail. But I really feel like it's important to let people who are going through the system know what the system is all about. I'm going to try to be honest and direct about everything, without any sugarcoating or gloss overs. Hopefully, this turns out to be a positive experience. But I'm ready for anything. Here's to adventure.

Never Stop Exploring?

2011-03-15T21:11:00.002-04:00

I really enjoyed this post from Heidi Swift about bicycle touring. Tidbit:

Riding a loaded touring bike seems valiant or poetic, but it’s a voluntary act made (oftentimes) by privileged people who are searching for something that they can’t find at home: simplicity, detachment, clarity. You leave everything you own behind and pack a small selection of essentials into a few bags. Then you tow them and, somehow, the weight yields an internal lightness. It’s a startling inversion. It’s a trick of the mind.

The real work of touring starts when you come home and stand in front of your kingdom and try to figure out what it means and why you left it.

It seems like a battle is constantly waging with outdoorsy people who live in the city (or in my case, suburbs). It doesn’t need to evolve over a multiday bike tour either. Every weekend, we drive hundreds of miles and spend hundreds of dollars to escape the “drudgery” of everyday life. For a few fleeting moments, we forget about mortgages, bills, and responsibilities. We’re focused on skiing (or biking, or ice climbing, etc.). We’re into the moment, and we celebrate afterwards. Then when we get back home, we slip back into the same routines. Wake up, go to work, come home, make dinner, watch TV, go to bed, repeat. Boredom. Monotony. Stasis.

But if “routine” is the worst of all possible worlds, then what is the best? Is it a non-stop bicycle tour with your entire family from the northern tip of Alaska to the southern tip of Argentina ? Is it an “all-in” non stop trek of the Appalachian Trail, North Country Trail, Great Divide Route, and Pacific Coast Trails? Is it a sail around the world on an old sailboat (looks pretty good to me)? Is the key to enlightenment actually a clothing company tagline (“Never Stop Exploring”)?

Personally, I don’t think I was ever cut out to be a nomad. I like to have a home, and a sense of place. I like to go out to bars, watch baseball games, and grill meat on my back porch. I like warm showers and down comforters and cold beer. In fact, I always find that the best meal of a multiday camping trip is the one you have when you return to civilization. While I might never stop exploring, I’m okay with taking a break every once in a while. Heidi, who seems to have somehow turned this “blogging” thing into a career, comes to the same conclusion:

In my case, I try to figure out why I always want to leave it again and again. At the same time, cradled in the expanse of a soft king bed, flanked by cats that have become temporarily affectionate due to their perceived near-abandonment, I know with exacting clarity how my home can be both shifting and static.

I guess it’s about balance. Unfortunately, I feel like my balance has shifted too far towards the safe, boring, routine side of things. It’s time to set sail.

Northeast Ski Blogger Summit: Change

2011-03-07T12:44:00.003-05:00

Change is inevitable. Regardless of whether it is good or bad, anticipated or unanticipated, minor or major, change is going to happen eventually. Like when you're standing in a little plastic room, and all of a sudden the floor gives way and you find yourself careening down a water slide in a tilted corkscrew:

I only mention this because the "Aqua Loop" is one of the many planned features of the new Jay Peak Waterpark. And I gotta say, I want to give it a try.

I've written before about resorts catering to many types of skiers (I even used Jay Peak as an example of a resort that remains "pure"). I have always felt that different people go to different ski areas for different reasons, and these days, ski areas have to cater to all of those differences (during the day and at night). I don't really know anything about advertising, but it seems that in order to draw a lot of people to your resort, you need to spread your marketing tentacles really wide to encompass everyone; whether that means advertising in a family magazine, or letting 6 bloggers ski and stay slopeside for free in hopes that they'll write some good stuff about your area. And sometimes, it might lead to mixed signals:

FURTHER UP. FURTHER OUT. At another resort, they're questioning whether to tip the ski valet. But up here, no one questions anything.

But if there's no ski valet, who will watch my skis while I'm on the Aqua Loop?!?

Like I said, though, I don't begrudge a ski area simply for giving the people what they want. It sounds like they're taking the necessary steps to develop the mountain into a year round "resort." And in a time of increased costs for snowmaking, electricity, and personnel, this is the kind of thing that keeps the lifts turning every winter, which is something that every skier wants. And they even found an innovative way to pay for it: The EB-5 program, which provides funding and local jobs (something I think we should all get behind).

I do want to talk a little bit about another option, though. Last Friday morning, we started skinning up an old trail in the area. We eventually found ourselves in pristine wilderness. It was quiet. Really quiet. There was none of the hustle and bustle that we'd been accustomed to over the last couple of days in the resort. Just us, the sounds of our skins sliding up the slope, and the sunny silence of an empty trail.

We weren't that far away from Jay, but it felt like another world. Calm, serene, soothing. The snow was velvety soft, too:

Eventually, it got a little more dense::

And we had to start ducking:

So the slopes weren't perfectly cut, it took a little work to get up, and the extreme roadside snow bank barrel roll still needs to be perfected. It was still one of the most fun times of the whole trip.

And that's what I'm trying to get at. Regardless of how "overdeveloped" and "corporatized" your home mountain becomes, somewhere in those hills, there's a way to escape. There's a way to leave everything behind and, even if it's just for one morning, there's a way to go back to skiing the way it was before the slopeside condos, resort villages, and ski valets. There's a way to just ski.

I still want to try that Aqua Loop, though.

Northeast Ski Blogger Summit: Inspiration

2011-03-06T10:46:00.003-05:00

I'm mostly going to load this post with pictures, but I wanted to talk a little bit about inspiration. Going into a semi-blind meeting with a bunch of people you've never met before (in real life) is kind of an uncomfortable situation for me. I'm not the kind of guy who goes up to random people at parties and strikes up conversations with them. I mean, sure, I'll talk to anyone I meet, but it usually takes me a while to get comfortable with someone enough to open up a little bit.

But whenever I'm skiing, it's different. I definitely feel like I'm in my element at ski areas. I think a lot of it has to do with the group dynamics of a bunch of skiers. Here's a quote from the scholarly book Group Dynamics in Recreation and Leisure: creating conscious groups through an experiential approach:

Many recreation and leisure groups involve people who want to learn and grow from their experiences. They are aware that learning and growth are a primary motivation for being involved with others in recreation and leisure activities. These groups can be referred to as conscious groups. A conscious group recognizes that besides its other goals or productivity objectives, the personal growth of its members is the main objective. Members of a conscious group strive to better themselves and their relationships with others in the group – and probably beyond the group as well. In fact, this is why many people engage in recreation and leisure pursuits – to relax, meet others, and engage in activities they enjoy, all of which helps them become better people.

This is my goal in every group lesson that I teach when I'm ski instructing. And it's amazing when it happens organically. I think it took about 2 runs in the morning on Wednesday before we got to that point at the ski blogger summit. You see a lot of trip reports that say something like "everyone was pushing each other and the level of skiing was really high." Some people even refer to it as "bromentum." Well, after these last few days, I feel inspired. Inspired to be a better skier. Inspired to be a better blogger. And inspired to be a better person.

So without further ado, here's the pictures from Thursday at Jay:

Jay Peak Tease

2011-03-04T00:28:00.001-05:00

Carried the new camera around all day, and got a bunch of great pictures. Here's a couple to tickle your fancy (if that phrase exists anymore) before I go to bed:

Northeast Ski Blogger Summit

2011-03-02T23:14:00.004-05:00

In a ridiculous stroke of luck, I somehow stumbled into a "ski blogger summit." When I woke up this morning, I had no idea what to expect. It turned out to be one of the best days of the year. Here's the report:

I woke up earlier than usual. In fact, the clock in my car hasn't seen this side of 6:00 in a long time:

I drove north. Way north.

I stopped to take a picture of the Sunrise (!!!) and kept going:

Until I eventually reached this sign:

Hmmm, Hockey and Strippers, or Maple Syrup and Skiing? Tough choice. Eventually, I found myself here:

And despite the large number of French speaking Quebecois, I was actually still in Vermont. Jay Peak, to be exact.

Perhaps I should stop and give some background. I got an email from "Harvey" at Harvey Road asking if I'd be interested in a blogger's summit in Jay Peak. To which I responded "Hell Yeah." After a few months and a few emails back and forth, Harvey, Steve (thesnowway.com), Gord (The Real Jay Peak Snow Report), James (Harvey Road and firsttracksonline), and I were headed up to Jay.

Like I said, I didn't know what to expect, but it turned out fantastic: 6-8 inches of fresh snow, solid skiers, and very little stopping (surprisingly little for a bunch of ski bloggers). We were all over the mountain, ripping trees, blasting through pow, and whooping it up all the way down. I realize that Jay Peak isn't always like this (I hear it gets a tad cold and windy sometimes), but today, it skied pretty damn well. And I was so pumped to at a new (to me) mountain, skiing with new (to me) people, and having a new (to me) experience. I'll let the other guys post their superior pics and video, I just have a couple of pics I thought were cool/instructive.

Jay's trees are a lot more open than the trees I'm used to:

Also, 6-8 inches is enough to get face shots:

And mountain photographs on overcast afternoons look more moody and introspective in black and white:

After the day was over, and we sat around the dinner table, Gord introduced a new (to me) discussion: Everyone at the table would go around and recount their favorite run of the day. My choice was easy: We took a trail called River Quai (a steep, rocky shot underneath the tram with a wide open powder field at the bottom), followed by Buckaroo Banzai (an open glade with dips, drops, and fresh pow shots in the second half). The run was pretty much everything I wanted (and expected) of Jay: Challenge, Trees, and Pow. It was the perfect run.

To me.

Burnout?

2011-02-25T19:53:00.001-05:00

Around this time of year, every year, people stop thinking about skiing. I’m not talking about myself, of course, but the thousands of that people get done with Presidents’ Week and put the ski gear away. I want to say one thing to these people: Keep on doing what you’re doing.

I mean, selfishly, I love the fact that March is a month of warm temperatures, long days, and uncrowded slopes, but you might feel differently. As the red part of thermometer starts rising, it is completely natural to think of mountain biking, golf and baseball. Pursue these activities with the same vigor that you had when you started skiing this year (sometime around Christmas). Even Warren Miller says that around this time of year, he yearns for the warmth of spring and summer:

I have to admit, that about the middle of February, I would like to be able to get my golf score under 137 for 18 holes during four or five days at some Arizona course.

And if Warren Miller is doing it, it can’t be bad! You saw “his” ski movie this past fall with all those other people in that theater downtown. Those guys were obviously a bunch of core skiers. I bet they didn’t let that free weekday lift ticket to Windham go to waste!!

Okay, maybe I’m being a little harsh. After all, my new, enlightened theory of skiing is about letting people enjoy the mountain in any way they want; whether that means epic pow in tree stashes (which I will enjoy this weekend), or ski boots in the bar (which I will enjoy making fun of this weekend). It’s not like I’m the final arbiter of what’s cool on the slopes (the skiing version of this guy). I should really try to relax and just accept everyone for who they are. Maybe my jobs (skiing jobs, not real job) are stressing me out. I’ve been teaching skiing every Saturday, Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday for 5 weeks straight now. It’s definitely time for a break. I really enjoyed reading this article, about a guy who thought he landed his dream job when he got a position with a guiding company that took clients climbing up Mount Rainier:

Really, I got paid to carry a big pack and walk slowly in dangerous places while tied to clients who were seemingly trying to kill themselves (and, by extension, me). When I did finally have a day off, climbing was the last thing I wanted to do. Eventually, and entirely by accident, I landed a “real” job. I hear a lot of people blaming their office jobs for their failure to get out and get after it. However, I find that my desk job hasn’t killed my climbing; it’s actually given me the freedom (and rest) to do more.

I get more climbing, biking, and skiing done now than I ever used to. The reason is simple: I don’t have a job that requires me to carry heavy packs, roll up rafts, or generally stress out about my clients’ safety. So, when I want to get after it on my own terms, I’m actually rested and ready to go.

I’m not at the point where skiing is the last thing I want to do (in fact, I have a couple of really sweet trips coming up), but lately, I’ve definitely been enjoying the time in the office for providing a little bit of a respite.

Ace and I were talking about this kind of thing the other day, actually. Our last summer of mountain biking and road biking was awesome. And what made it even better is that we did it on our own terms. On Saturdays, we’d get up when we wanted, have a relaxing breakfast, meet some friends, ride around for a few hours, and go out for a nice lunch/dinner and a few beers. There was no pressure to be at the mountain at 8:30, no lineups to go to, no having to park in a parking lot 2 miles from the trail, etc. It was just us and some friends riding around and having fun.

I’m hoping to recapture some of that in March. All of the work is (almost) done and now it’s time to play. The only weekend that I’ll be working at the mountain in March is the 12-13 (when I’ll be teaching the “Glades and Glory” 2-day tree skiing camp). The rest of the time, maybe I should start taking Warren Miller’s advice seriously:

One of the weird things I believe in is to enjoy the snow to the fullest because the following week when you are sitting in front of a computer at Old Amalgamated Stock Brokers, you will regret that you slept in and missed that epic day of powder snow.

Remember, the best day of skiing that you have ever had and try and put a price tag on it. Is it worth a million dollars or 10 billion dollars? It is not for sale for any price. The only way that you can own one of these special days is to be the first one in the chair lift line on a powder snow morning after having had a good night's sleep.

Memories are priceless. So keep on doing spectacular things so that you can keep depositing new things in your memory bank every day.

Thanks, Warren. Maybe I’ll see you in the bar someday (I’ll be the one without ski boots on – some things I just can’t accept).

More Photography Stuff

2011-02-18T20:19:00.002-05:00

A couple of quick notes:

As I learn more about photography, I'm thinking that's it's not always the camera that makes the shot. Case in point: I took my camera out last Monday for a walk around the nature preserve by my house (along the old Erie Canal) to work on my photographer's eye and try to get a few good shots. I ended up deleting most of them. This was probably my best attempt:

Not so good. It was the middle of the day, so the light wasn't really stellar, and to tell you the truth, the scenery was a little boring (would have been a good place for some xc skiing, though). Contrast that with this picture (another find from my old closet) I took when I was in New Zealand for a semester in college:

That picture was taken with an old, cheap, 35mm camera, developed as a 3x5 and then scanned in to my computer at one of the lowest settings. And it has a date burned into upper right corner! And it still looks a million times more artistic, creative, and lively than that drab picture from the Nature Preserve. I guess there's only one solution: go back to New Zealand.

All hope is not lost, though. If it takes me a while to get the hang of photography, I can always fall back on video. I thought the video feature of my new camera was kind of a nice bonus, but not really of much use for serious film. I was seriously mistaken. Here's a video shot entirely with my camera (the Pentax k-x):

Scion Snow Tour 2011 Roundtop Rail Jam from Manhouse Media on Vimeo.

Sick.

Weather might be a little sketchy this weekend (thaw/freeze/thaw/freeze/wind), but I'll be skiing both days. Maybe I'll see you at the mountain.

College

2011-02-18T19:47:00.005-05:00

With my parents retiring, selling their house, and moving to North Carolina, it was up to me to clean out my old closet. Between college books, baseball cards, and various useless souvenirs (New York Mets Magazine from that game I went to in 1990 – Howard Johnson on the cover!), I found a cache of photographs from college. There were some pretty sweet shots in there. But first, the background:

While I loved skiing in high school, 4 years on the ski team, preceded by 5 years in the ski club, had made skiing stale and a little boring. I felt like I had reached the highest levels I could. I had put in over 60 days for each of the previous 5 years, and I spent a lot of time in the freezing cold, shivering in my speed suit, waiting for a race to start. I didn’t want to be on the college ski team, and I didn’t really know how much I wanted to ski at all.

But summer came, and the itch started to develop again. My one request for a college roommate was someone that skied. And that’s how I met Todd (Toddykins, in college).

He was responsible for two things: One, reinvigorating my love for skiing with an unquenchable desire to get out there; and Two, getting me into tele skiing. The first day that Sunday River opened in 1998, we were there. The first day that Sugarloaf opened, we were there. When it snowed 24”, we strapped on our skis and jumped off the cliffs behind the dorms.

When we got bored around campus, we built a semi-successful, but eventually stupid quarterpipe.

For spring break, we didn’t go to Cancun, we went to Fernie, BC.

And we extended the season even further by skiing Tuckerman Ravine in Late April and Early May.

Todd works for a major bank and is now in Singapore (I think), and Andy (the other guy in the photos) is a doctor in Tuscon, AZ. I don’t know if they can’t ski as much as they want or if they just don’t want to ski that much anymore (although, for what it’s worth, Todd says that his 10 days of heli skiing a year are worth an entire season of East Coast skiing). But I do know that for a few years in college, I was more psyched on skiing that I had ever been before.

Sometimes it takes a little push to get you going again. I’m glad that happened in my late teens/early 20’s. I might not have always made the most economically sound decisions in my life (obviously, I’d be in a much better financial place if I were a banker or doctor), but I still get over 60 days on snow per year. And I know that most of those days will be filled with the same smiles that I had when I was at school in front of our hastily made, shoddily constructed quarterpipe.

New Camera

2011-02-11T17:28:00.001-05:00

Well, I did it. I bought a new camera. Even though my furnace needs fixing and my car has weird warning lights popping up, I felt I needed to plop down a few hundred for a nice DSLR. I went with the Pentax k-x over the Nikon for two main reasons: Price (about $150 cheaper) and faster continuous shooting capability. When I go to buy new lenses, this decision might come back to haunt me (quick internet searching reveals that Nikon lenses are more readily available), but right now, I have to say I'm completely stoked on my new purchase. After a little internet research, I figured out the 3 main points of SLR photography (and photography in general): Aperture, Shutter Speed, and ISO. How these three go together separate well exposed pics from poorly exposed pics.

I took the camera to the community college class I teach at West Mountain on Thursday night for some trial and error (mostly error). As The Saratoga Skier and Hiker has found, nighttime skiing photography is a difficult endeavor. Here was my first attempt:

I was trying to capture a decent sunset through my front window as I was driving. Unfortunately, the auto focus focused on my filthy windshield instead of what was beyond the windshield. No way to focus while I was driving, so I waited until I got to the mountain to shoot more. I stepped out of the car and shot this:

Better, but a little grainy. I wanted to open up the aperture to get as much light in as possible, but doing that increased the ISO to a level that I wasn't happy with. I moved the ISO down to 1600 and took another.

Okay, now we're getting somewhere. The only problem with this photo is the blur in the center right. The skiers coming towards me are fine, but the skier moving perpendicular to me is blurry. Another example:

Clearly I need more shutter speed to capture action. Or do I? I've seen some pictures that create a cool effect by panning with the moving object, creating a blurred background, but a focused subject. I thought I'd give it a try:

Not bad for my first attempt! I definitely have to remember this technique for mountain biking shots. I put my camera away for the time being and taught my lesson. After a warmup break, we came out and took one more run. I decided to practice some action shots:

For these shots, I cranked the aperture as wide as possible, jacked up the shutter speed, and kept the ISO at 1600. I tried to pan with the skiers as they were moving, and I used the burst mode on the camera to shoot at 4.6 frames per second. I have to say I'm pretty pleased with the results. If this camera can get this kind of resolution at night, it's going to look pretty freakin' good during the day. Can't wait to try it out.

I'll be teaching the "Master of the Mountain" 2-day class at Gore this weekend, so if anyone wants to dominate the mountain Matt-style, c'mon up and ski with me.

Brief Update

2011-02-04T16:47:00.001-05:00

I've been skiing like a madman lately, 6 times in the last 8 days, including a double dip yesterday of Gore Trees during the day and West Mountain Groomers at night. So I haven't go the chance to update my blog as much as I'd like. Rest assured, though, I'm still thinking of my loyal readers. I've written a couple of posts that are awaiting pictures (just need to find the time to scan them in). And it looks like I'm getting a pretty decent tax return, so I might have some new blogging toys soon (Mmmmm . . . DSLR . . . .).

Also, I forgot to mention one thing in my last post about things necessary for great blog posts. In order to have great pictures and video, you need to have some damn good skiers on the other side of the camera. So all those guys on Famous Internet Skiers, or TGR, or wherever it is on the internet that you see people slaying powder and hucking cliffs, deserve mucho credit for being way above average in the skiing department.

Not as good as me, of course, but everyone needs something to aspire to . . .

:-D

Blogging/Photography

2011-01-25T16:18:00.002-05:00

Blogging is hard. When you’re ripping sweet, sweet pow (especially when it’s freezing cold), the last thing you want to do is take out a camera and start shooting video. When you’re skiing with other people, I always feel a little dickish when I say: “Hey guys, I’m going to snag first tracks. Then I’ll post up next to those trees down there, you guys sit here and stare at my tracks until I get my camera all set up and wave you down.” Then, when you get home, instead of reaching for a beer and plopping yourself down on the couch, you have to download the pics to the computer, maybe edit a video, write up the Trip Report, or participate in some good natured internet forum jibber jabber.

Then there’s the financial burden. You’re paying for gas to get to the mountain, lift tickets for the day, ski school for the kids (if I had kids), lunch, beer, and ski equipment. On top of that, there’s the cost of the blogging equipment: point and shoot (P&S) camera, flip cam, helmet cam, phone, laptop, internet access, phone service, and most importantly, time.

I was thinking about this stuff when I was tooling around for a new camera. I love the photos that come out of trip reports that are shot with really nice cameras (skiing or mountain biking). I was thinking of getting an entry-level DSLR and trying to get into photography a little more (thinking of a Nikon D3100).

But then I realized the extra costs that would be associated with such a purpose. First off, I’d need a way to carry the thing. I can’t just stuff a DSLR in my pocket like I could a P&S. So I’d need some sort of carrying case thingy. Then, I’d probably need some extra lenses (I don’t know if this is true or not, I’m still trying to learn about SLR photography). And, to be perfectly honest, I might need a new computer (mine is 7 years old). I keep getting the low memory warnings popping up, so I delete an old movie edit, and a few weeks later they pop up again (I might be able to get around this by buying an external hard drive). I’m still tossing the idea around in my mind, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know.

What really inspired this new interest (besides cool trip reports), was the recent article on slate.com about Slow Photography. Like the Slow Food movement, Slow Photography is more about enjoying the present moment, and not just “documentation” (this is where we were, this is what we saw):

That's why, eventually, anyone who considers her- or himself "into" photography becomes interested in beauty (and using a camera to create it). The difference between documentation and the beauty impulse is that the latter has the power to produce not just a memory, but an emotional response in any viewer. That's very different from the impulse to record. For group pictures are never beautiful, nor are photos in front of the Eiffel Tower. (It is big, and the subject is too small.)

You do need to slow down at least a little to create beautiful photos. And yet fast photography is not the enemy of good results, by the logic of volume: If you take a thousand photographs, one or two will turn out great. Professional photographers rely on this logic, and it is also the raging theory on African safaris. At any given moment in the Serengeti, thousands of shutters are clicking, and among the gigabytes of crap are a few photos that will turn out great.

No, the real victim of fast photography is not the quality of the photos themselves. The victim is us. We lose something else: the experiential side, the joy of photography as an activity. And trying to fight this loss, to treat photography as an experience, not a means to an end, is the very definition of slow photography.

And the pictures aren’t bad either.

Of course, it’s not just Photography that is going slow. Skiing is jumping on the bandwagon as well:

"This is a new approach to skiing in Italy," said Walter Galli, a spokesman for the resort. "It's about getting away from the competitiveness of the main slopes, leaving the stress of the office behind and taking a moment to yourself."

The Breuil-Cervinia resort in the Valle d'Aosta region of northwest Italy has prepared the trail for skiers of all levels, complete with picturesque viewing points and wooden benches for those who want to catch their breath.

Organisers have named it after Italy's slow food movement - a campaign to get people to improve their quality of life and take pleasure in a more relaxed way of living.

You know, especially during this time of year (when the mountain is crowded, I’m working my ass off, freeskiing opportunities are few and far between), I could probably use this type of relaxation. In my continuing quest to live more in the moment, I could really stand to stop and look around for a while. What else you got?

At Alta Badia in the Italian province of Bolzano-Bozen, a group of Michelin-starred chefs have organised the "ski with taste" initiative.

"We've created a gastronomic route where hungry skiers can stop and indulge in delicious meals made from local produce," said Arturo Spicocchi, who came up with the idea along with fellow chefs Norbert Niederkofler and Fabio Cucchelli.

"There are 10 mountain huts, each run by a different chef. We create our own signature dishes from local ingredients such as honey, apples and speck (a mountain ham)," he said.

Now THAT sounds like an experience worth blogging about!

Get It.

2011-01-13T18:26:00.003-05:00

After two days of staring longingly out the window, I’m finally taking tomorrow off . . . To install a dishwasher. That’s right, no skiing until this weekend. I looked at the calendar and, although I am not big on counting days, I already have 22 days on snow (all alpine - ugh - except for that first day @ Whiteface). That’s not half bad, all things considered.

I guess I’m just biding my time, waiting for opportunity, and getting ready to blast off. I still feel like the season has barely started. Despite some epic posts, there are still some reports of low base levels and sketchy conditions (even in the places that got hammered the last few days). And Meathead films just barely kicked off their filming for this year’s video .

Starting in February, I’ll be skiing 4 to 5 times a week, so I’m not really fretting my lack of ski days right now. Plus I’ve been busy at work. I’ve got a big presentation that I’m giving a week from Monday, and finding enough time for everything is getting more difficult. Maybe I need a lesson on work/life balance. Here’s a section of an article I read the other day:

While contemplating work issues, Robinson realized that millions of Americans lack basic "life skills," which are quite different from those you employ on the job. They have forgotten how to have fun and enjoy life in their non-work hours. They are beaten down by their jobs and unfulfilled by their lives. Part of the problem lies in a fantastic proliferation in recent years of home-entertainment options and digital devices that keep us at a distance from physical reality. We are ever more immersed in alternative realities that can be enthralling and relaxing after a hard day of work, but keep us from spending our time in recreation, hobbies, or community activities that would actually make us happy. Those pursuits are essential if we want to satisfy our core needs -- autonomy, competence and relatedness -- according to Robinson.

Another obstacle to our happiness is that we often pursue our few leisure activities with a "performance mind." We play tennis to win, yoga only to get fit, or travel to put notches on our "great experiences" belt. It's all about accomplishment and competition, when it should mostly be about the intrinsic value of what we pursue, as Robinson convincingly explains in his book. "Art for art's sake," not "art for ego's sake," will make us deeply happy. Play is the thing, to misquote Shakespeare.

A couple of things about this: First, I am going to use this as further evidence of my glowing boxes hypothesis (more glowing boxes=less happiness). Second, perhaps my resolutions were a bit skewed. One of my resolutions was to make one post a month that makes people want to be where I am. But is that goal really about my happiness? Or is more of an ego boost? A “look at me”-type boasting? Come to think of it, maybe all ski blogging is an exercise in masturbatory self-congratulation. Are we really making ourselves happier, or just trying to make ourselves seem cooler?

I’ve thought about this, and I’m pretty sure I’d be making videos, taking pictures, and writing this blog even if nobody was reading it (and, judging by the traffic statistics, that’s pretty close to the truth). I write things like this because I’m going to want to look back at this someday to see what I was thinking at this point in my life. I take pictures because I want to see what it looked like when I was living. I shoot and edit video because I enjoy it.

So is it bad that I strive to make one blog post a month that makes people say “wow”? Absolutely Not! Anything that inspires me to get outside and go skiing, is something that I want to embrace. And to that end, here’s a recent article on backcountry beacon.com

Fast-forward four years to the ’08-’09 snow season, my last in Utah. In that time I had morphed from a wide-eyed powder neophyte to a bona fide snow snob. I would wake up in the morning and call the Solitude snow report: “We’ve received seven inches overnight and nine inches in a 24 hour period …”

Seven inches? I’ll just go to work.

Seriously? Go to work? What was I thinking?

Let’s stop here for a minute. I have to preface all this. I now live in Vermont, where a seven-inch powder day doesn’t get scoffed at. Last season—which I’m told was meager at best—we got two, maybe three days of only seven inches. No matter. Every time I went out with Vermonters, they were grinning ear-to-ear whether we were slaloming through hardwoods or carving on the groomers.

This winter has started off much more promising. The snow is slowly accumulating and we’re one big dump away from full coverage. (Bring it on Nor-Easter!) If there’s one thing I’ve noticed, it’s that skiers and snowboarders in Vermont don’t mess around with numbers: “If it’s good, get it.”

Exactly. If there’s one code to live by in the east, that’s pretty much spot on. Maybe that dishwasher installation can wait . . .