Cannon Mountain

In the last ten days, my new skis have flown 35 000 kilometres. Yet, they have never touched snow. The airlines keep losing the bag, so the skis travel a day or two behind me. What a waste! So once again, I'm renting. This time at Cannon Mountain, New Hampshire. Another half-day of skiing after a weekend spent in travel and before the my meetings kick in.

A couple of years ago I visited many ski areas in New England. The one that I remember best was Mad River Glen in Vermont. A great place, but I wanted to try something new, and the only name that I immediately recognised was Killington, also in Vermont. However, my friend Patrick (aka "Mad Pat") convinced me that Cannon would be a better choice, more down-to-earth, real skiing and less about commercial skiing. So Cannon it was...

The Skiing

The skiing is good. As if I'd ever say something else :-) The lower slopes at Cannon are rather uninteresting though, even if you are looking for blue runs. But the upper slopes are good, particularly the Cannonball black run and other slopes near the Cannoball Express Quad chair. DJ's tramline would also have been a great run, looked very steep. But there was no snow on it at the time of my visit.



And indeed, Cannon is different, and has history. They built the first aerial tram in the US in 1938, for instance.

Restaurants

There it is again. An avalanche. Luckily this time it was in the form of a meal in the local restaurant. I grabbed the avalanche by both hands and ate it. There, I'm winning.

I recommend the restaurant at the lodge, rather than the self-service bar.

 More Photos

Cannon has an extensive, truly massive snow-making network. As I was skiing down some of the less skied runs, I encountered many "whales", snow dunes created by snow cannons.

The drive to Cannon was interesting, as all the signs on the road warned about a "winter storm". From a road perspective, it was just some snow on the roads, nothing that I wouldn't have been used to at home. On the slopes though, it was pretty cold and windy.

The lodge at the base has a fireplace, good for warming up:

Videos and photos © 2014 Jari Arkko. Tämä blogi löytyy myös suomeksi.

Mountain High

No wonder there is a discount: no snow anywhere and there is cactus next to the rental place. But I think I can find snow. And I need the rental skis, because airlines keep losing my skibag.

I'm heading to Mountain High, a ski area 100 miles from the beaches of Santa Monica. It is Sunday, and I have the morning off before my meetings start.

When I arrive at the ski area, it is exactly as I wanted: a thin layer of man-made snow, and no snow outside the ski area's boundaries. Hence, no avalanches. Still shaking from that experience! But the snow situation at Mountain High is not tailored for me, it has been an extraordinaly dry winter, and there is much less snow in California than usual. But Mountain High is open, although the snow is hard and icy.

This small ski area is surprisingly interesting. The 300-meter vertical descent is nice for a ski area so close to LA, and the more difficult runs are enjoyably steep. There's also plenty of jumps, rails, boxes and other entertainment in the area. Although I fall off one box onto hard ice. For a moment feel afraid that I've broken something. But I didn't.

The most fun thing were the stairs.

In North America, it is customary that there's a tree along one of the chair lifts that people throw underwear and necklaces onto. Mountain High has one, too:

Here's an overall view of the west side of the ski area. There's also an east and north side, but they were closed:

The area has only man-made snow, and the reservoir for the water is almost empty. Hoping there's some natural snowfall soon:

There are only two restaurants in the west side. There's the cafeteria at the main lodge at the bottom, and then there's Bullwheel Bar & Grill near the beginner's area. I liked the latter much better. The food is the same, but the views are better, there's a fireplace inside and outside, and there's less people.

Mountain outhouse? Give me a break:

Photos and videos © 2014 by Jari Arkko. Tämä blog löytyy myös suomeksi.

Avalanche

"Avalanche!" Just a second later the avalanche hits us, moving at the speed of a high-speed train. I scream and try to fight, but it does not seem to have any effect. And soon, maybe just a second later the avalanche has passed. Only my head sticks out of the snow, and my friend has been thrown 40 meters and completely buried. What happened?

The most important thing first: we did get out and everyone is OK: me and my friend, our guide, and the other team who also got hit by the same avalanche. Other than some small bruising, the only damage is to equipment. But it was a terrible event. I never want to get caught in avalanche again, and I do not recommend it for others either. If you look at ski videos, you see lightweight avalanches that you ski out of. And you see avalanches that start under you and can develop into bigger ones. But it may be difficult to imagine an avalanche that starts high above you and runs you over at an incredible speed. There is nothing you can do about it. No time to ski out, no way to resist the forces, nothing… this happened two weeks ago and my hands are still shaking from shock. Being inside an avalanche is close to the feeling that a drowning person probably has.

The accident happened on the first run of the day, close to the Balme and Vallorcine ski areas in Chamonix. This was the second day with our experienced guide, and we had made a last-minute change to the day's plans due to avalanche danger elsewhere. We had just crossed the border to Switzerland, and while there was a general avalanche danger due to the night's snowfall, we were not particularly worried. We skied in a place where at least large avalanches would be unlikely, as the slope was not steep enough.

However, several hundred meters above there was a steep face. As we skied forward, high above us that face fractured. The avalanche turned into a wide, powdery cloud that first hit the plateaue above us, and then continued straight towards us in the mildly sloping couloir that we were at.

I had an avalanche backpack, but I did not have time to do anything after seeing the avalanche, other than to instinctively ski a bit towards the side of the couloir. Our guide saw the avalanche a little bit before us, and was not hit by the avalanche at all. I was just four meters after him, but was almost completely covered, apparently only moved a bit by the avalanche. Jarmo was behind me and under the fuller force of the avalanche.

The panic that started from seeing the avalanche continued. I tried to lift myself out, but I was stuck. My hands were free, however, so I started digging myself out. Remi, our guide, tried to help me but we decided that it is better for him to search for Jarmo, as I could get out on my own. But we could not see Jarmo anywhere. Remi wanted to turn off my avalanche beacon, but it was deep inside my jacket. I grabbed snow furiously from around me, trying to get low enough to unzip my jacket and turn the beacon off. Finally I succeeded, but Remi's radio search could not find Jarmo's beacon. Luckily, a moment later we heard Jarmo further down. He had been blown away with the avalanche, on his back and completely under snow. Luckily, there was only a shallow layer of snow above him, so he got out by himself, and had by then started a search for me and Remi, also not finding anything. We searched each other at the same time! A turn in the couloir made us not see him.

But what about other people? I have fractions of images in my panicking mind, and there are people above us in those images. For some reason I can't make myself understood to Remi. But after a while he starts shouting with two guys above us. Another group has been hit by the avalanche as well, and no people are missing.

But I am not out of the snow yet. From the bottom my snow pit, the couloir wall looks dangerous. And would more snow be rushing soon over it? I'm getting claustrophobic and even more panicked. I keep digging until I reach the boot that is still connected to my ski. The snow is surprisingly soft - I can wipe a layer of just by pushing with my hand. Maybe the snow does not pack so tightly on the side of the avalanche as it does in the middle. Afterwards I realise that I might have tried twisting my boot to release the bindings. If my tight bindings would have allowed that.

After I had gotten out, we still had to hack my ski out of the pit. I had lost the other ski, both poles, and my eyeglasses. Remi continued to search for the skis, while I decided that I wanted to climb to the top of the couloir wall for safety.  After a couple of minutes of unsuccessful searching, we all retreat for safety.

But it is difficult to find perfect safety under a steep mountain face. And now we have another problem: we can't leave, as Jarmo has lost both of his skis, and I have only one ski. And Remi's bindings are not compatible with our boots. Walking through the snowpack is very difficult even for a couple of meters, let alone the kilometres we have to the ski area.  Still on avalanche prone terrain.

Communications are difficult. For some reason Remi's phone fails to make calls, and none of us have other types of radios. Finally, we reach two nearby guides with my phone, and the guides promise to bring us skis. The whole process takes half an hour. When the guides arrive they each loan a ski to Jarmo. We start moving, with me falling every few dozen meters on just one ski. We reach the other side of the couloir and start climbing back towards the ski area when the steep face avalanches again. Three times. One of the avalanches goes straight towards our waiting place. A large pile of snow stops in front of our tracks while the powder cloud goes past. We could have survived at the waiting place, but it would have been nerve-wrecking to watch an avalanche coming towards you, for the second time on the same morning. I'm not sure what we would have done. There's also a cliff right below the waiting place, so it would not have been possible to escape.

I continue the journey on one ski. We have to ski back a long way to reach the ski area. And even when we get back, we need to ski several runs to reach our car in the Vallorcine village. In the end, I learned to ski on one ski. The difficult bit was making turns towards the side that still had the ski. The other side turns were easier. I even learned to ski a bit in deep powder, although still falling frequently.

All was well in the end. But how an earth did we get into this situation? Was this a mistake or just bad luck? If you ski weird stuff once a week year around, it is perhaps likely that you will eventually run into an accident. Avalanche, fall, rock, crevasse, collision… in my forty years of skiing I've been very fortunate, and only had a couple of minor cuts. My luck run out?

Unfortunately, that is not the correct explanation. I blame this accident on stupidity. Silly technical mistakes, like having the safety on in my ABS backpack, even when we were already outside the pistes. I could have gotten it launched anyway quite quickly, but all this happened in the scale of human reaction time so it was already unclear if I had been able to pull it under any setting. But we might have had more time, if we had not all stopped near each other and focused on the skiing rather than looking at the environment. And what kind of communications equipment did we have? If I had been under the snow, whose phone would have been used to ask for help?

But the biggest mistake was going to that place. Afterwards it turned out that this place was one of the most avalanche prone places in Chamonix. We had no good reason to go there nor we had we done enough research about the state of the snowpack that morning. And seeing that the snow was avalanche prone as we skied the first few turns, it did not make us change course become more conscious about the dangers. Our plans for the day had changed on the last minute, this being our third choice. This may have affected our guide's ability to determine what the conditions were. And more to the point, skiing with a guide is no insurance against the forces of nature. News reports of mountaineering and skiing accidents are almost always from groups who were with guides. This does not mean that guides are dangerous, just that they cannot change reality. After our accident, I have realised that even with a guide, everyone in the group needs to understand the snow situation and other dangers, and be aware of issues might arise. When I'm on the mountains alone or with my friends, I usually think pretty carefully what the situation is, yet with a guide I've outsourced all worries to someone else. Now I realise that is wrong, and we were lucky to not had to pay a high price for that complacency.

Before the avalanche we had skied everything possible. After our arrival, we skied the black run off Brevent as a warm-up, and then continued to ski 45 degree steeps next to it. After the avalanche we stayed primarily on the blue runs and toured all the bars in Chamonix. We also enjoyed the sunshine and followed the freeskiing championships. In the future, I'll probably ski more sand dunes than snow.

Pictures of skiing in Flegere:

Watching the free skiing competition:

Competition's announcer was sitting near us:

Notice the flying contestant:

Oh and what happened to my skis? After getting back to the valley safely, the first call that I made was of course to my family that we're OK. The second call was to the ski shop that I use, Skiservice. Did they still have a second pair of the same skis that I was skiing on? We had talked about that pair a while ago, when my skis had shown wear… they still had the pair. For some reason, I did not get a discount when I tried to buy just one ski, however. Now I am the happy owner of three copies of the same ski:

Photos and videos © 2014 by Jari Arkko and Jarmo Ruuth. Tämä blogi on olemassa myös suomeksi.

First Week

How does Chamonix powder compare to Los Angeles sand dunes? What protective gear do you need in Chamonix town centre at New Year? Can you ski in New York's central park?

We had a small vacation in the alps for the new year, with my sons. On the third day of the year, I realised that just by following good snow, we happened to have skied in Verbier, Courmayeur, and Chamonix. But the trend was about to end, as I had to get back to work. Yet by the end of the week, I had managed to sneak a few night and morning outings, and also skied in Kauniainen, Los Angeles, and New York.


Day 1: Verbier

The Mont Blanc Unlimited ticket in Chamonix gives you access to not just the Chamonix valley, but also Verbier and Courmayeur. So we decided to use the tickets to their full extent, and visit all three places.

The car ride to Verbier took just little over an hour. Here's an essential tip for anyone who is considering the same journey: park your car at Le Châble - the village below Verbier, and take the gondola up from there; parking is easier, less driving, and no lift lines. Stay on the gondola until it reaches Les Ruinettes. Exiting at Verbier village is not necessary, and may lead to a long wait in the lift lines.

For food, I can recommend the Col Des Gentianes restaurant next to the Mont Fort gondola. The new dome building is interesting and works well. And the Mont Fort ski run, of course, is a must for all serious skiers! For after ski, my local friends recommend Fer a Cheval, a bar down the road from the main gondola station in Verbier.

Day 2: Chamonix

Like all the alps this year, Chamonix has been suffering from lack of snow and dangerous, avalanche-prone conditions outside the slopes. We skied a lot in Brevent, including the very rocky (and closed) run down to the village. But we also found some new snow, as it started snowing. I particularly liked the Schuss Des Dames black run in Les Houches (and the small forest next to it), and of course, the Charles Bozon run in Brevent.

One thing about Chamonix New Year events is that the centre is very crowded, and fireworks and champagne are flying in the crowds. Be warned.

When we visited the Aiguille du Midi station, we noticed that it had a new feature, the Step Into the Void: a glass box where you can stand above… nothing. Recommended!

Day 3: Courmayeur

The snowy weather continued in Courmayeur. Again, our lift tickets worked here, but only after having them activated at the ticket office. Note: if you have bought your ticket from the net without the dates being printed on the ticket itself, you have to bring a separate receipt to prove that the ticket is valid!

For some reason I always enjoy the backside at Courmayeur, e.g., the Zerotta lift. In the picture below I've skied the lift track under the Peindeint lift, with plenty of powder but absolutely no snow base under the powder. Bad for my skis, and tricky to ski at some points.

Day 4: Kauniainen

As we returned from our trip, the newspaper in the airplane declared that winter has been canceled. It indeed has been a bad winter so far. No snow at all in the area we live. But on the way from the airport we stopped at the melting Grani ski hill, and since there was still a few spots of man-made snow left, I skied a few meters to collect the fourth country in four days.

Days 5-7: Behind the Fence in LA

My work took me to Los Angeles. Very interesting work and even more interesting people to meet, but it also presented obstacles: no free time and no snow. But I sneaked out for an early morning outing, at the time normal people would be having breakfast or doing their morning jog. As for the lack of snow, well, how about sand? But for that I needed to find a dune. It turns out that Sand Dune Park near LAX hosts the sole remaining sand dune in the city. This 100-foot hill is an incredibly nice exercise spot; running up and down the dune is effective, and the setting is beautiful. And while the height of the dune is nominally 100 feet, on every step you will fall down a bit in the soft sand. A few runs back and forth will be a nice workout. Much better than any gym!

As a skiing spot, this park fares better than most other sand dunes; the hill is quite steep. Yet, the friction from the sand had me wishing for an even steeper hill to gain some speed. I took one run and headed back to my car to change clothes and drive to my 9am meeting.

As an aside, my first attempt to gain access to this dune late at night was blocked by a fence and big warning signs. Apparently the neighbourhood is concerned about noise coming from the people jogging in the area (!). No free roaming in the nature as we have in Finland. I would have climbed the fence, but the police is quite active in ticketing violators here. I guess other crime in LA is already eliminated?

To gain access, you have to make a reservation at the city office or on the net, and pay 1$ fee at the gate for the two (!) guards. And the time slots are very limited, just a few people at a time, and 8am-4pm only. Sad, because this hill would be a treasure for the local joggers and kids.

Day 8: Central Park

On my way back from LA my flights happened to put me in New York for the day. Between conference calls and lunch, I sneaked to Central Park with my Orthex miniskis. New York had been hit by cold weather a couple of days earlier, and there was still a little bit of snow left. I skied ten meters on slightly sloping snow-covered grass, and headed to my next flight.

Eight days, five countries (and two states). A good start for the year!

Videos and photos © 2013 by Jari Arkko and Olli Arkko. Tämä blogi on myös saatavilla suomeksi.