Steep Skiing Fail
Saturday, April 6, 2013 at 08:36PM 
The incomparable Chugach, AKYesterday, I broke the number one rule in steep skiing – I fell. We talk a lot about no-fall skiing on blogs like this one. Defining a line as such requires a combination of pitch and snow characteristics. We rarely get to test the presumption. Doing so could cost you your life. Instead, we demand of ourselves utmost concentration and enough skill and judgment to ski the line without falling. Up until yesterday, I ‘ve been successful.
***** Peak Couloirs
Mat and I planned to finally get on a much-coveted line on a big peak in the Western Chugach near Anchorage. The weather’s been stable and clear this past week and we knew conditions on the north-facing couloir would be perfect.
The approach involves navigating some typically sketchy Alaska neighborhood roads where people don’t appreciate casual passer-bys. Too many stories about gun-toting territorialists confronting skiers on their way to the alpine. Mat knows the guy who maintains the road and he was cool with us walking by. I still hate the tension I feel moving through there.
A tasty chute on ****** Peak
****** Pass dead ahead. ******* massif dominating.Once passed the final home, the tree line ends and the alpine begins. The peaks up in this valley represent what I feel are the best that the Anchorage area has to offer. These are huge, rugged, sometimes glaciated Chugach peaks, often over 7,000 feet high. The area offers numerous steep skiing lines and **** harbors two of the sweetest.
The skinning is easy up the low angle valley. It took us 2.5 hours to get to the base of the first couloir. It’s narrow, steep and about 1,600 feet long. Average pitch is about 45 degrees with a couple of sections a few degrees steeper. The booting was good to great and the snow quality acceptable. It wasn’t blower but it’s what I’ve come to like in features like these - predictable edging with manageable slough.
***** Couloir #1
****** Couloir #2, bottom halfMat and I traded leads the whole way up. It was surprisingly cold and we each stopped numerous times to swing the blood back into our fingertips. Forty-five minutes later we were standing on top.
Mat liking what he sees
Would you want to fall here?
Get Your Head in the Game
Sport psychologists talk about optimal arousal states for sport performance. For some athletes, weight lifters, for instance, this level may involve banging one’s head on the bar and screaming prior to attempting a heavy squat. For others it may simply be taking a moment to quietly visualize the task at hand and then getting down to business. The point is that the optimal excitation level is different for everyone.
My partner, Mat, has a pre-run ritual involving checking and re-checking his gear, glasses, helmet, etc. and then doing a little ski slap shuffle routine that eventually has me taunting him with, “Are you ready yet?” or “What are you doing?” He, of course, blows me off with, “don’t rush me, man” and we eventually get down to the business of skiing. But what he’s really doing, whether he realizes it or not, is getting his arousal level to the point where he can ski the line effectively.
I’ve been competing and doing dangerous stuff most of my life. I’ve never been one to do anything noticeably ritualistic before a race, skiing a steep line or soloing a rock climb. I simply recognize the danger or the task and the rest fall into place. I’m not for a minute suggesting that this is a better way to prepare but simply offer that this is what works for me.
After yesterday’s tumble, I realize that I’ve let my guard down lately. I think that my success on various serious lines over that past couple of seasons has created a complacency and casualness that finally almost took my life. The event serves as a wake-up call for me to up my game when the time is appropriate.
Go Time
The top of the couloir is low angle and serves as a nice warm-up entry to the steeper business in the gut. 
Mellow beginningsMy first several turns went fine and Mat and I exchanged leads giving each other virgin snow. 
The start of the businessThe conditions were just a hint variable and I noticed my tips submarining under a two inch forgiving crust. Maybe this is what got me. But at a steep choke about one third of the way down, I hooked a tip and hip checked. It caught my attention just for a second. I stood right back up.
Mat keeping it upright
I should’ve known right then that something was up. Instead, I made another clean turn and then, as I jumped into another, everything went wrong. I high-sided and fell head first, landing on my pole and feeling it snap under my weight. My knee twisted and I felt the tension build up until the ski suddenly released. I accelerated. At this point, lots of shit goes through your head. I thought about how bad it could get. What impacting the walls at speed would feel like and how epic any sort of extrication/rescue was going to be. But the snow was soft and I wasn’t out of control yet. So, I got my one remaining ski under me, flattened my body out to increase surface area and dug everything in. My ski caught and I came to a stop. I looked down at my slough and there was my other ski starting its descent into the unknown.
I was embarrassed first. I was a little scared and my hands were shaking as I made a quick assessment of the situation. I reassured Mat I was okay and suggested he get on with skiing down in hopes of finding my ski. I was beginning to grasp what skiing out the **** Valley would be like with only one ski. I found the other half of my pole, donned my crampons and started down climbing.
A couple of minutes passed before Mat yelled up that he had my ski. I started thinking that there would be no epic and that I could even ski the second couloir on ***** as planned. Unfortunately, when I got to my ski and made the requisite inspection, I noticed that one of the wings of the front binding had snapped off. Not good. Further inspection revealed what looked to be evidence of the binding hitting the wall, likely causing the failure. I finished walking down.
"Houston, we have a problem"At the bottom, we took stock of the situation. I got out the repair kit and put on my MacGyver hat. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to secure my foot to the ski with what remained of the front binding without creating a serious liability. After a few minutes of pondering and futzing, I resigned myself to the mono ski out. This was going to suck.
One ski. Almost enough to make me cry.I suggested to Mat that he let me suffer alone and climb and ski the other couloir while I floundered out. We parted ways and I started. After a few missteps, I settled into a routine of alternating feet in the ski. I tried all kinds of things but I slowly lost altitude and gained ground. It was looking pretty good. The valley is relatively low angle and snow conditions good for such a struggle. I was cursing my little 167cm 75mm underfoot mountaineering skis. Not exactly a large platform for ballet skiing off piste. But before I knew it, I was post holing up to the road and happily walking down to the car. Incredibly, not a second after popping the hatch on my Subaru did I hear the scratch of Mat’s edges on the road behind me. Couldn’t have timed it better.
I learned a good lesson yesterday without much consequence to my partner or myself. I was lucky. It’s a sobering reminder of how quickly things can go sideways. I also learned that skiing on one ski sucks and is garanteed to make your legs hurt.
Chugach Mountains, ski mountaineering in Alaska Winter
Reader Comments (19)
Glad you're alright. Get back to it and keep the hackles up.
Think Plum will warranty it out for you?
Thanks, Andy. Hard to say. The divot on the edge suggests blunt trauma. We know these bindings don't typically fail at this point. This pair are new this season and I haven't skied them much at all. I spoke with the distributor here in N.A. and he doesn't carry singles. He's calling HQ on monday to see what he can work out. I'm hoping they feel sorry for me and give me a great deal. Lord knows I've done my share of supporting the product.
Damn, Randoman! Excellent write-up, happy to have been a part of it, and sooo glad that you're OK. Also, glad that you were ok with me getting on with skiing that 2nd couloir - which has been on my mind for quite some time. The incident had thoughts running through my head as well, and I was damn sure I was playing my A-game soloing **** #2. The rest of the day was a question in my mind from the time I realized you were ok and didn't have more serious thoughts to deal with. Feeling relived that you were ok and even suggesting I ski #2 (without me mentioning it) at the bottom, I took the sign to get on with my desire.
This is a thought-provoking blog post for me by many counts. The optimal arousal theory is an excellent mention. I hadn't previously thought of it in regard to ritual, typically having contemplated it in the past in regard to facilitating experiences (outdoor and educational) that promote this sought after state of mind.
The pre-ski ritual also wasn't in my consciousness, until reading this surfaced it, but ritual is another meaningful note to me. I played basketball and tennis growing up, basketball being taken especially serious where I'm from, and ritual can be an important part of performance as you've suggested. In basketball pre-freethrow and tennis pre-serve, the ritualistic and subtle alteration of consciosness via ball-boucing, tossing, etc. is easily identifiable in athletes.
Now, I'll even more easily be able to ignore your impatience!
All said, glad things went as well as they did. It leaves me thinking: how serious does a serous game become when you're so immersed in it? Is a mindfulness of the consequences of so many aspects of the "sport" lost (to varying degrees of consciousness) in the pursuit?
Whatever the response, #2 had me engaged, in no other way more in the present, and having me where I always seek to be "no place but where I am."
Glad to hear you're alright. ***** Peak fills the large side window in my house in ** and I eyeball it all the time. However, I have neither the skill, experience, or acceptable risk level to ski such awesome lines. Were your toe pieces locked? Maybe it's a blessing in disguise that the wing broke, and not your leg. That said, it obviously could have been worse if you tumbled out of control. Lessons learned I suppose. Get on out there and enjoy the 2 ft+ (?) of new snow we got! Forecast says there is more on the way. Going out tomorrow morning, but likely sticking to something mellow (Arctic Valley or North Bowl perhaps).
Zip ties Zip ties Zip ties All sizes
Zip ties? That's funny. Dave, you show me how to hold the ski to my boot with a binding in that shape with freaking zip ties and ski downhill for a few miles and a couple of thousand vert and I'll buy you dinner. You have to do this without incurring further injury each time it falls off your foot and you're left with the flailing ski impaling you in some way. Short of drilling holes in my boot, it just wasn't happening. But I appreciate your optimism.
JP,
Toes are always locked on terrain like that. I don't know anyone who skis otherwise. Benefits outweigh the risks, IMO. Frankly, I don't think the fall broke the wing. The chunk of metal missing just in front of the break suggests impact as the ski traveled down the couloir. Just a guess though. Never found the other piece so we'll never know for sure. But the track record on those bindings is solid. It's unlikely that a slow speed fall would snap it. But you're right, I'm glad the ski ejected either way. The out would have been much more interesting with a blown knee.
I like the sound of your view. Lucky bastard! Those are my favorite mountains in the area.
Hey Brian
Another great blog.
To note. The ski with binding is only about 3 lbs.
Would take a lot of speed to create enough force to break the toe pinchers and
The broken piece that you can not find would be where the impact would be shown.
On the other hand a locked toe puts a lot of load on the pinchers.
Just wondering.
So, is your lesson learned "be lucky"? It's hard for me to figure out what you learned when you wrote, "lesson lerned". Luck runs out...
Glad everything came out well.
Hey Smokey,
If the lesson is not obvious then I think it's summed up in an earlier paragraph.....
"After yesterday’s tumble, I realize that I’ve let my guard down lately. I think that my success on various serious lines over that past couple of seasons has created a complacency and casualness that finally almost took my life. The event serves as a wake-up call for me to up my game when the time is appropriate."
To elaborate, even if the snow is soft and terrain not overly "extreme", I still have to focus...HARD. Simple as that. So, no, the lesson is not to be lucky. That would be a stupid wish, eh? Luck is nice when you get it but hoping for it is sort of like religion and I try to avoid that sort of thing.
Bill,
Yeah, the speed of this crash was pretty slow so I agree with your assessment but, really, there's no way to know.
Brian,
The guy who owns the cabin and the land is named Dave and he is a long-time Anchorage skier. He has gone out of his way to provide access to **** Valley and as far as I know he provides the only private land legal access point in the entire park. He has put signs up in the past indicating where the access is located, but they get torn down.
So do not fear the dude in the shack, but take a sixer up to the fellow skier's cabin next time you are headed into ***** Valley.
Jeff
Hey Jeff,
Sound advice and good to hear. I'm sensitive to property rights but I always have a hard time with those who "guard" areas like this for their own entertainment. The whole "NIMBY" thing really bugs me. Times change. People will come but I don't think there will ever be a huge crowd up there. I'm also aware of my part in this debate as I talk about these lines. Some certainly feel that I should just shut up. It's a tough call. Maybe I'll just show the lines without names. It's a compromise. It's about the skiing and the mountains, anyway.
Maybe some day the state will push access up Peter's Creek and we can leave those guys alone.
1. " navigating some typically sketchy Alaska neighborhood roads where people don’t appreciate casual passer-bys"
2. "Mat knows the guy who maintains the road and he was cool with us walking by"
3. "final road is actually some dude’s driveway that leads to a small one room unfinished shack"
4. "He’s only home randomly and the snow machine parked at the beginning of the road indicated he was gone."
5. "I'm sensitive to property rights"
6. "guard","NIMBY"
7. "I should just shut up."
Its clear you guys trespassed on that guys private driveway ending at his "Shack" ( its a super nice ski cabin) and did not use the access easement HE provided, that I'm sure you are " sensitive" too. Its no wonder why those property owners up there don't appreciate you walking through their front yard or tagging all of this crap to them and the surrounding peaks online.
Are you part of the problem or the solution ?
Interesting blog.
Well, Kocheda, in spite of your obvious sarcasm, your points are well-taken. I didn't make my comments lightly that you foot-noted so well. Obviously, I've thought about the issues. Yep, private property, for sure. My sensitivity was not walking on his land when he was there. If he was, I would have taken the easement. But even having to deal with these choices bugs me to no end. No excuse, I guess. You beat me to the punch on this one as I have some commentary on it in a coming post.
Issues like this cause me to re think the whole blog thing. I like sharing these stories and readers generally like them and the photos. But what's the point, right? It gets me some free shit once in a while. Gives me a creative outlet. But, like you said, it brings attention to situations like access that are best left alone. I'll save the rest of my thoughts for the post. Keep reading.
Sorry if you were offended by my term, "shack". It's unfinished and I'm not so bold as to walk onto Dave's porch and peer in. Hard to believe I draw the line somewhere, right?
BTW, made some changes to the post that still tell the tale without giving too much away. Seems like a reasonable compromise. Besides, those who really want to find out more are going to get the info one way or another. Hell, I was up there within a month of arriving.
Say what you will about private property. The Chugach is public land. The property owners can't, and won't, ever be able to do anything to keep Chugach Lovers from accessing this zone as discussed in this post. They can't shoot, attack, or harm trespassers in any way. They would be f'd by the judicial system if they did. Good luck getting APD to come up there and stand around for an indefinite period of time waiting for the Chugach Lover to exit public land and trespass through private property on his/her way out. And if you actually think APD or another law enforcement entity should actually enforce BS private property laws, you're smoking some super funky sh*t and trying to enforce BS laws like this would drive any government into bankruptcy. The land belongs to no one. F*ck the privileged few and their NIMBY BS! Change through the channels sanctioned by the powers-that-be, alone, is a pipe dream. Change takes activism on all fronts. Substantive change requires civil disobedience, if not outright revolution. Look at the past...
Hmmm, Lover. Not sure if this comment will be noticed by readers as the post may have already fallen by the wayside but I'll leave it here in case there is interesting commentary coming.
Cool story, Brian. I've always been interested in the mental game of athletics and maybe that's why I love skiing so much. I bookmarked your blog and plan to read more in the future. The one part of this post that left me scratching my head, however, was that you and your partner split up after you took what seemed to be a pretty serious fall. Just curious if you could comment on the thought process that led to that decision.
Weirdscience,
Great to hear about new readers. Thanks for chiming in.
Here's what was going through our heads that day. Mat and I are both frequent solo skiers. We're very comfortable doing trips like this alone, aware of the attendant risks. Having each other there is always a luxury. Mat is ambitious, like me, and I wanted to give him the opportunity to bag the other line, regardless of my little predicament. I was not hurt. I didn't feel like having him there on my exit was going to add anything to my effort. Why make him suffer watching? The exit is very straight forward and he would soon be following and, I assumed, would catch up after skiing the line.
Now, I would be a liar if I said that I didn't play scenario after scenario in my head as I skied out wondering what I would do if Mat failed to show at the car. But all of that was "worse case" shit and that rarely happens. Case in point, he arrived safely just as I popped the back of my car.
I think the most significant factor here is the mind set of the soloist. I would guess that the majority of climbers and skiers don't climb or ski alone. Skiing especially. But people do it. We are well aware of the risks involved. If you don't do it then decisions like the one we made seem absolutely absurd, I'm sure. Mat and I started the day as a team, sharing the trail breaking and enjoying the line together and, then, finished as soloists.