Northeast Ski Blogger Summit: Change

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

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

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

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?

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

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.