Burnout?

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).

Get It.

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 . . .

2011 Goals

Sorry for the lack of posts lately, but I’ve been having a rough time.  The holiday period is always super busy for a ski instructor, and I put in a bunch of days at the mountain.  Plus, I never do my Christmas shopping early, so the run up to Christmas is always packed with trips to crowded malls and stress about what to buy.  Then there are the family obligations, the friend obligations, and the work obligations mixed in.

And it’s not just the “to-do” list that’s got me down, it’s the weather.  On Monday, December 27^th, I woke up to 11 inches of snow at my house in suburban Albany, NY.  As I shoveled my car out, I noticed that the snow was light, fluffy, and fantastic.  I knew the drive would be rough, but I took my time, drove slowly, and avoided becoming one of the many cars that had found their way into ditches.  As I drove, I listened to relaxed, adult-alternative oriented music to calm my mood, and keep me from wanting to go too fast. I actually started enjoying the trip.  Sure, it was taking forever (and I was going to miss my 8:30 ski instructing sign in time), but I love new snow, and the feeling of anticipation was building as the dulcet melodies of Jack Johnson soothed my nerves.

Until I started looking at the snow depth.  The road conditions were still bad, but the snowfall amounts were deteriorating as I moved north.  7 inches in Saratoga.  4 Inches in Glens Falls.  2 inches in Warrensburg.  By the time I got to North Creek, there was no snow on the ground at all.  The only weather that greeted me was a blistering wind when I stepped out of the car.  Ugh.

On top of that, I went to 3 lineups and didn’t get one lesson.  So I drove all that way, used all that gas money, avoided all those ditches, and listened to all that Colbie Caillat for nothing!!!!  The skiing wasn’t even that good! The wind and cold associated with the storm made being outside feel miserable (although the snowmakers have done a great job keeping the snowpack skiable on a lot of my favorite trails).  So we got all of the bad parts of a winter storm (wind and cold), but none of the good parts (epic snowfall).  What a waste.

After this past week, I look back on that day and I still think it’s a bit of a waste.  But there was a moment during that day that I was actually very content.  I was relaxed, alert, and giddy with anticipation about skiing fresh snow, teaching great lessons, and celebrating afterwards.  With that idea in mind, I decided that my New Years Resolutions for this year should contain a bunch of chances for these types of moments.  While I might not be able to complete all of my resolutions, I still want to have chances to look around and say “Right here, in this moment, I’m happy.”  A second thing I wanted to do for this year was try to make more progress on the goals that I have.  My list from last year didn’t go very well, and I need to start making things happen.  Here’s an idea from a website:

Do a little every day. Take small steps towards your big goals every day, even if it means spending 60 seconds checking out a relevant website before bed.

Ha! So I can help achieve my resolutions by browsing the internet?   These are going to be easier than I thought:

1. Film, Edit, and Finish a quality ski movie for the year
2. Backcountry ski at least 5 times
3. Bike Commute 50 times this year
4. Explore at least 5 new-to-me mountain bike areas in the Northeast
5. Learn more about bicycle repair, acquire some tools and start wrenching my bikes
6. Make at least one blog post every month that makes people want to be where I am

 That last one is tricky, because I haven’t really focused the blog in that way before.  It’s more of a “thoughts and musings” blog, instead of a “here are my adventures” blog.  But those are the kind of things that I like reading, so I’m going to try to put up some cool content up (even if it’s just a short video of a powder shot or rock drop on a bike).  As for the first few on the list, I tried to attach some numbers to some previous goals that had gone unfulfilled.  I figure if I set a concrete number, it’s easier to track my progress towards the goal.

But maybe I’m thinking too much.  According to this article, the best way to get that happy/content feeling is to just get in a hot tub:

Hot tubs improve nervous system health. One of the reasons hot tubs feel so relaxing is because they actually balance the opposing functions within the nervous system – the sympathetic and parasympathetic systems. Hot water therapy reduces the effect of the sympathetic nervous system, which is the major cause of harmful stress. The positive effects of hot water therapy on the nervous system have actually been observed long after the individual actually leaves the water, showing that hot tubs help produce long term benefits that include lowered stress, relaxation, and a sense of well being. 

 Nice . . . Now I just need to find one with speakers for my Jack Johnson CDs . . .

Pray for (Natural) Snow?

This past Saturday kicked off my instructing duties for the year (two level 1’s).  And Sunday marked the first time that I’ve skied natural snow since October 16^th.  Vive la différence.

I have always said that natural snow is better.  It looks better, it skis better, and it melts better (spring corn instead of degraded ice chunks).  I tried to look up some hard statistics to back up my feelings, but all I found were scientific journal entries like this:

A theory is developed to explain the transition from regular plates to dendritic stellar crystals; the corners sprout when material from the vapour phase arrives at corners more rapidly than it can be carried away by surface diffusion and occurs only when the diameter of the plate exceeds a critical value d_c, ∝ D_s, /D_v, = x²_p, /D_v, where D_s, D_v, are the coefficients of surface and volume diffusion and x_p, is the surface migration distance on the (prism) edge of the plate. The predictions of the theory are compared with observations on natural snow crystals. Equations are derived for the growth rates of snow crystals as they fall through the atmosphere. The predicted maximum attainable diameters of the various shapes are in good agreement with observations

 Which is cool (if you like reading scientific journals), but it doesn’t really explain why natural snow feels so different.  Investigating further, I found this from the Wyoming Climate Atlas:

Mountain ski resorts augment natural snow cover with man made snow, especially during meteorological droughts. 28° F is the "magic number" for snowmaking. When the temperatures drop below this mark, snow production is greatly enhanced. Ten inches of natural snow, when packed, usually adds only one inch of snow to the ski slope’s base while 10 inches of man-made snow adds seven inches of base. Man-made snow is usually more dense and durable

 Okay, so now we’re getting somewhere.  Using a rough estimation, that means that normal Wyoming snow is about 10% water, but man made snow can approach 70% water.  Even if you consider that Eastern Snow has a slightly greater water content than Wyoming Snow (Wikipedia puts it at 15%), that’s still an enormous difference.  Imagine walking through a McDonald’s ball pit where 10% of the space was taken up by balls (and somehow they were floating all around you).  Then imagine a McDonald’s ball pit with 70% of the space taken up by balls.  Movement would be harder, you’d have to use more energy to get through, and the dynamic of how the balls interacted with each other would be completely changed.

That’s the problem with man made snow.  Every single man-made snowflake is heavier, denser, and more watery than its natural counterpart.  And since the number of snowflakes that fall in the world (naturally) is approximately 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000, that means that you are skiing through an awful lot of dense snowflakes.

But, I suppose it’s an early season sacrifice that we all have to live with.  This article on Syracuse.com does point out that man-made snow is good for one thing – base buildup:

Harris said man-made snow is more dense and durable. It will hold up better to the abuses of thaws and skis. At the same time, skiers love the natural pow[d]er. Its softer and more fun, Harris said. The idea is to lay down a heavy base of the man-made snow and let the natural snow top it off.

“Then you’ve got the best of both worlds,” Harris said

Can’t argue with that.  Ski areas have to strike the right balance between natural and man-made.  And every mountain is different.  What works for Mad River Glen won’t necessarily work for Hunter.  I guess when it comes to snow, I’d prefer that Gore would heed the words of Saint Augustine:

"Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you." 

Snow Drought and Other Stuff . . .

According to Harvey Road, the last time the National Weather Service in Albany posted a Winter Storm for the Adirondacks was December 9th.  His Gore Snowfall total is down more than 5 feet from last year.  According to the NWS, Albany has had only 6 days with more than an inch of snow this winter and is down about 20 inches from last winter.

Depressing, yes, but fear not.  I will always remember the sign at Sugarloaf on one of the lift towers that says that its snowiest months are March, April, and February (in that order).  I'd assume that Gore is similar.  Here's hoping that this winter will be redeemed with a monster Spring.

I would like to call to your attention, though, the difference in "snow droughts" from East to West.  Talking with people in Utah, you would think that it's the end of the world out there.  When I posted the Tahawus Glade Video on my facebook page, a guy I went to college with said that there's more snow in the trees here than there was out there.  Granted, they've gotten a little more snow since then - I thought PowderQueen's TR (also on Harvey Road) looked pretty damn good to me (even she, however, put in a mild complaint - "We didn't get too much deep powder, but we made the best of what we had").  Then I checked the Statistics.  Alta had gotten 162 inches of snow before I posted my video (they're up around 250 now).

Amazing!!!  In my wildest dreams, I could only hope that we'd get 162 inches of snow this year.  Imagine someone complaining!  I know, I know, mountains out there need more snow to operate because they don't have the manicured runs that we have here, but come on!!  If I lived out west, would I become a snow snob too?  Would I look out the window, see a base depth of only 84 inches and go back to sleep?  If the answer is yes (and I think it might be), that just speaks volumes about the difference in skiing from East to West.  We ski here because it's enjoyable, fun to do with friends, and great excercise.  Out there, though, people ski because they SKI.

And that's the difference.  I had a blast on Sagamore last week.  It was great: fresh gun-pow, soft bumps, and good people.  But I stayed on Sagamore for pretty much the entire day.  That was the only place where I could SKI.  I guess it's obvious that I believe that SKIING is different than skiing.  And it seems like this year, I've had a lot more skiing than SKIING.  Don't get me wrong, I've had some great runs, but there hasn't been a day where I've been completely gung ho about pushing myself, exploring, and taking charge of a ski day.  I've mostly been taking it as it comes, finding the good snow, and lapping it until I'm tired.

Come to think of it, I always do a lot of that at the beginning of a season.  When the mountain isn't fully open, the best bet is to find the trail that they've been hammering with guns, and ski it until your legs give out.  The problem is, this year has been like an extended early season.  There's not too much separating skiing now from skiing in December or Early January.  Yeah, there are more trails open, but none that really excite me (especially since they keep grooming the trails that have character).  How many times can I ski groomed frozen granular before I get bored?  Pretty soon, I'm going to want to SKI.  I want to rip bump lines and tree lines, I want to adventure, I want to explore, I want to find a stash that no one has skied for weeks, I want to stare at big mountains, and plan tomorrow's day over a beer (because it will be different than today).  These are the things I love about skiing.  And they're the things that I can't do in an Eastern Powder Drought, but can do in a Western Powder "Drought".       

Mmmm . . . .