Sunburst Saturday

Poking out of clouds on the climb up

The clouds below

One last run before the sun sets

Today, while Anchorage and the surrounding areas were under a thick layer of clouds I headed up high to see if the visibility was any better above 3000' with a few friends - Rachel, Chris and Rob. After climbing about 1200' we found sun, warmth, and a windless day of backcountry skiing. It almost felt like skiing in Colorado when we were on the ridgetops. Although as soon as we dropped into the shadow of a ridge after a long, powdery descent we were reminded that it was in fact Alaska and the temps out of the sun weren't much higher than zero degrees. The opportunity to be back in the sun was a great motivator to climb back up and do it all again. The snow felt bottomless and we squeezed every last drop of sunshine from the day. (Thanks to Rob for the first and third photos)

In tape we crust (ski)

Chris repairs the day's first failure

While the trails in town have surrendered their snow to the 50 degree temps, the weather has been perfect for crust skiing in the mountains surrounding Anchorage. On Saturday I was invited to join a few of seasoned experts who seek solitude and distance on their crust skiing excursions. An early alarm (5 am) and a drive down to the Kenai Peninsula brought us to some pretty amazing skiing -- accompanied by three pieces of broken equipment.

A fixit shop among the trees

We skied along a frozen river and an (unlawful) snow machine trail to a broad meadow. Much of the trail was rutted and it proved challenging to maintain one's balance. After skiing into a deep rut I heard a snap and instantly knew that my trusty pair of rock skis would never be the same. When I caught up to the group, they immediately set to work mending the cracked ski with the duct tape I was advised to bring along. Luckily, Chris brought along an emergency ski tip for such an occasion and fastened it to the shortened ski. Moments later a broken pole required more tape and a few cottonwood branches.

Corey ties up the repaired pole (notice the ski with the funny tip)

With all gear adequately mended the tour continued into a bright white meadow where the crust was perfect for high speed cruising. We skied to the top of the meadow and looked toward our intended destination - a high pass unreachable with hobbled gear and a greenhorn. We made the call to turn back at about 11 and rocketed back down the meadow toward the riverbed that would take us back to the trialhead. Sure enough, a bit of hotdogging snapped Martin's ski beneath the foot and forced him to ski most of the return trip on one foot. As for me, I'll be scouring Craigslist for another pair crust/ rock skis.

All smiles and speed in the meadow

Ski train

Meghan happy to be off the train and on her skis above the Susitna River Valley

With Mark and Laurence inside the "Wine & Cheese Car"

Live entertainment

An overdue post on our trip aboard the infamous Ski Train. Departing from Anchorage at 7 am and returning well after 8 pm, the Ski Train was full day outing consisting of early morning cocktails, costumes, a polka band, and a little skiing thrown in. At times it felt intercontinental - nibbling on cheese and sipping wine while sitting in the glass domed rail car as Alaska's wilderness flashed by. At others it felt like a cramped car trip with dozens of loud traveling companions. Although the scenery was spectacular and it was great to get out with friends, Meg and I agreed that once is enough for the Ski Train.

Tour reflection

Before: with a Tour veteran

The symbolic end of another Alaskan winter came and went on Sunday as we took part in the 24th annual Tour of Anchorage ski marathon. After skiing the 40k distance last year I signed up for the 50k distance this year. Meg ran race support, shuttling me and friends to the start and cheering us on along the route. It's amazing how much mental space the Tour occupies throughout the winter. After the race I sat down and took off my ski boots and Lycra. I paused, and felt my brain empty out. I had nothing in the near future to prepare for - no more worries about race times or bonking or whether I was skiing enough. And although I would have liked to have skied the race a bit faster, I am satisfied with my results considering the winter that was. Meg's winter-long bar prep required added attention. I neglected to get seen for a knee injury that nagged all winter until three weeks ago. And preparations for this specific race were not adequate. At the risk of listing excuses, I rarely skied longer than 90 minutes at a time this winter and on race day I slept in and ended up eating breakfast too late which caused some serious difficulty on the very hilly first 10k. All in all, it was quite the learning experience and it was great seeing friends do so well. Looking forward to 2012...

After: 50k and still smiling

Reinforcement

Last week Meg's mom, Deb paid a visit. She provided much needed emotional and domestic support for our little bar exam-taker. When not cooking up a storm or taking care of Reb, Deb was on her skis as much as possible, always on the lookout for moose and other critters. Luckily, our neck of the woods was quite a popular spot for the boreal ungulates, as they seemed to stop by the front yard once a day during Deb's visit. We also toured Powerline Pass on Saturday under bright February sun to play in the 8" of fresh snow. Thanks for the visit Deb - we couldn't have made it to the test without you.

Saturday sun

Saturday offered clear skies, sun, and crisp air - perfect for snapping pics of the Anchorage Bowl. The Great One and the Alaska Range were on display to the north and surrounding ranges - Chugach and Tordrillo - showed their stuff as well. I took the camera along on an afternoon ski and dropped the shots into a slideshow between grabs from an FAA webcam located in downtown Anchorage.

Evening commute - no flash

Today was cloudless and we finally got to see how much light we've gained this week. Like Candlemas Day, the first day when it's possible to make it home from work without lights marks winter's turning point. I left the office at 5:30 and skied home under civil twilight. As the days become longer energy levels increase and moods brighten. - just in time for Meg's big test and the big race.

The trail

Assorted sights on the Anchorage trail system

Skiing fast slowly

Ice floats to the sea in Knik Arm

A good friend passed on a word of advice after a training ski this week. He quoted Olympic great Gunde Svan, a Swede with four cross country golds, who said that one should 'ski fast slowly.' In other words, it's much better to relax and be patient with each stride to maintain maximum efficiency. Much of the Big Race in March involves long efficient strides, so I skied 20 km of the course slowly, building speed by concentrating on each kick and glide. Along the way I stopped to watch the flowing tide carry ice down the Knik Arm to the Gulf of Alaska.

Race Day aka Nordi-madness

Lined up next to Tony Knowles (no. 685) at the start

Although originally signed up for the 25k Tour of Anchorage, I decided to try the longer 40k leg of the race. I had yet to ever ski 40k. Conditions the day before the race were marginal - 40 mph winds and blowing snow. On Sunday, however, the sky cleared and winds calmed. Temperatures were in the upper teens, but rising with the morning sun. The snow was firm. Great conditions for racing. As Meghan and I hurried to the start (a tad later than I would have liked) we avoided a bull moose crossing the highway. We made it to the start with little time to spare. I quickly took a warm up lap around the starting area and lined up with my wave. Soon after the start of the race I found myself all alone at the front of the wave. I then realized that with little to no experience in longer races I had not considered a strategy at all. I got nervous. My skis felt fast, however, so I decided to continue with a brisk pace. I soon caught the wave in front of me and within 10k had made it to the front of that wave. I was able to ski several kms alone moving from one group of skiers to the next. As the course wound its way through Anchorage I soon found myself on familiar terrain - the 8 kms that I ski to and from work - and skied past Meghan and friends cheering from the park in front of our house. With 10 km to go I decided that I had enough in the tank to make a sprint to the finish. I knew that 4 kms of hills guarded the finish line at Kincaid Park so bonking was a very real concern. The hills were a challenge, but I felt strong through the end of the race. Forgetting to start my stopwatch I only had an estimate of my time. Only later, via a text message form Eric G., did I learn that I had won my age group and received a medal (race results). The experience was fantastic and I am now hungry for more. Alas, the 50k course will give me all that I can handle if I ski it next year.

Nerdic skiing?

Sven and Oly(mpics)

I probably left some drool on the bib after Sunday's very hilly 30 km race at Kincaid Park

As a tune up for the Tour of Anchorage I participated (competed would be less accurate) in the Sven Johanssen Race at Kincaid Park. The race offered two courses, a 10 km and a 30 km. Initially I planned to ski the 10 km course and get some racing experience, I then decided to enter the 30 km race and get a Medieval hill workout as well. After skiing about 25 km the day before I felt ready for some distance. Eric G., a friend and a racing veteran, agreed to provide the best wax for Sunday's race. Before turning on the iron we watched Olympic coverage of the men's 30 km pursuit in Whistler to get fired up. Perhaps as a nod to Sven, the namesake of the race here in Anchorage, two Swede's stunned everyone and captured a gold and a bronze amid 50 degree heat and a furious finish. During Sunday's race I was only hoping for a personal best - skiing a distance of 30 km. Racing was a blast (and exhausting) and definitely added an element of excitement to cross country skiing. Now, more than ever, I am looking forward to the Tour next month. Oh yeah, results from the Sven can be found here. Make sure you look for Eric G. near the top of the list.

A pair of Swedes, Johan Olsson and Marcus Hellner, sprint to the finish in Whistler during Saturday's 30 km race

Valentine Getaway to Exit Glacier

For the long weekend Meghan and I joined our friends the Needs - Harry and Leslie - for a ski-cabin getaway. We drove to the trailhead early Saturday morning and began our quest after a quick stop at the Seward Safeway (which reminded us of the one in Kodiak). Our 8 mile ski out to the cabin began sunny, but the sun soon disappeared behind rain/snow clouds for most of the weekend. Our destination was a cabin in the Exit Glacier Area of Kenai Fjords National Park. While the weather did not offer much in the way of outdoor exploring, we enjoyed several games of Mexican Train, Hearts, and a menu of surprisingly tasty cabin-cooked meals (even a lil' champagne to celebrate V Day). Not much wildlife to speak of during the trip, only moose tracks (not the ice cream flavor) and a few bald eagles.

Meghan makes strides to the cabin

Entering the Kenai Fjords National Park's Exit Glacier Area

"...And some flapjacks."

Harry spies the toe of Exit Glacier

Nothing says Happy Valentine's Day like a warm afternoon ski to the glacier

Skiing home with packs empty and spirits full

Opening Ceremonies?

This year's costume champs - last year they were caterpillars

Nope. These costumes were part of the Ski for Women event held on Super Bowl Sunday at Kincaid Park here in Anchorage, not in Vancouver to celebrate the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver. Sponsored by the Nordic Skiing Association of Anchorage and benefiting local domestic violence non-profits, Ski for Women is in its 14th year. Meghan and her friends joined the Party Wave and entered the costume contest.

The Skiters

Oh, and there was skiing involved as well. The Party Wave hit the Mize Loop to complete a 4k untamed, er untimed classic ski tour. The ladies had a great time and are already making plans for next year's costumes. My vote for a ski-themed Moby Dick was met with immediate disapproval.

MJ's zombie epic - 'Chiller'

Short Day Long Tour

Gearing up along the Seward Highway and icy Turnagain Arm

Even though the days are getting longer we're still under 16 hours of darkness. On a tour this weekend Eric, Dana and I saw the sun rise and set while on skis. We left the car around 10 a.m. and 9 1/2 hours later made it out of the woods under foggy darkness. In all we covered more than 12 miles and gained over 5,000' of vertical. Here are some pictures to tell the tale (more here).

Over the AK RR...

...and up to the source of Peterson Creek.

We spotted a colouir and decided to check it out.

Sittin' pretty in the backseat all the way to the glacier below

A successful climb and descent of the long colouir on the right gave us cause to celebrate just before sunset.

Before long the sun sets on our tour with three hours of skiing to go.

As darkness falls we noticed that a wolverine made tracks on this pitch just before us.

Ski Biscuit

Pictures from a sunny Saturday tour on Turnagain Pass. Corn Biscuit was our ridgeline of choice.

Of BroBrahs, Gnar, and the Teleturn

This sounds very similar to a conversation overheard at a bar last week.

Know Before You Go

This is an article that I wrote to be featured on the Chugach National Forest Avalanche Information Center website. I plan to contribute two articles per month to the site.

It goes without saying that backcountry travel in avalanche terrain involves risks. Exposure, equipment failure, injury, and, of course, the hazards associated with the release of an avalanche are major risks that a traveler should consider before every tour. Backcountry users, however, tend to be an optimistic group. For instance, even the slightest accumulation of early season snow is cause for celebration among backcountry enthusiasts. In the same vein, backcountry users may also perceive lower risk in the face of danger as a result of their sunny disposition. Indeed, early season avalanches have claimed the lives of three U.S. backcountry users so far this season. While optimism is certainly an enviable trait, this glass-half-full outlook could lead to ill advised decisions in the backcountry. Which begs the question, are backcountry users aware of the avalanche danger during an outing? A recent article in Wilderness & Environmental Medicine details the efforts of researchers in Salt Lake City, Utah to determine who “knows before they go.” The group of three scientists took their clipboards to popular trailheads and backcountry access gates in the Wasatch and Uinta mountains in the winter of 2005-2006 and asked backcountry users to rate the avalanche danger for their destination. Over three hundred backcountry travelers completed a questionnaire that collected information such as level of avalanche education (i.e., whether the traveler had taken an avalanche education course) and mode of travel. Participants were then asked to assess the avalanche danger that they expected for their destination. These results were compared to that day’s avalanche forecast from the Utah Avalanche Center (UAC) daily advisory which uses the same standard ranking system as the CNFAIC – low, moderate, considerable, high, or extreme. The backcountry users who participated in the survey were grouped based on their mode of travel – ski, snowboard, snowmachine, and snowshoe.
Results of the survey indicated that a large portion of skiers and snowboarders were aware of the avalanche danger – only 10% of skiers and 13% of snowboarders underestimated the level of avalanche danger for their destination. While a larger percentage of snowmachiners (22%) and snowshoers (45%) underestimated the avalanche danger. Now, before skiers and snowboarders launch “I told you so” rants and begin blaming other backcountry users for the slab that released during their last tour, it is important to note that this study did not determine whether the participants in the survey had accurately assessed the level of avalanche danger based on their own stability and weather observations. That is, backcountry users were not asked whether they had dug a pit, and tested the snow to assess the avalanche danger. Rather, the study simply identified who had read the daily avalanche advisory. Therefore, it is impossible to know which backcountry travelers in the study had actually examined snow pack conditions for their destination. While the results of the study may confirm preconceived notions about which backcountry users are aware of current avalanche conditions, it also demonstrates the challenges faced by avalanche centers such as the CNFAIC to expand their reach to backcountry travelers using snowshoes and snowmachines. A quick click or call to the CNFAIC daily avalanche advisory is always a good idea when planning a tour. And, with a new advisory every day of the week it’s even easier to “know before you go.”

Silverton NA, McIntosh SE, Kim HS. Risk Assessment in Backcountry Travel. Wilderness & Environmental Medicine, 2009; 20(3): 269-274.

Le Tour

For better or worse, I registered for the Tour of Anchorage yesterday. The 23-year-old ski marathon features four races in both classic and freestyle forms. Being a novice, I chose the 25k freestyle race for my competitive debut. What's most appealing about the race - and the upcoming training - is that the route passes in front of our house, in fact I can ski a portion of it to and from work. While this winter started dry, we've had about 20" of snow fall in town this week and the trails - once groomed - should be quite enjoyable for skating. I've recently noticed that this is the first winter in recent memory I have not been out on telemark skis before Christmas. It seems that skate skiing has sated my desire for speed on skis. Indeed, when everything comes together, skating on a well-groomed trail often feels like speeding downhill. In the meantime, I'll be looking for training tips (Patrick?), a spandex suit, and "more cowbell."

Gettin' Excited 'bout the 'Lympics

Meghan on her new skis? Nope, Anchorage 'Lympian Kikkan Randall skiing Powerline Pass Trail
(Photo: Mark Meyer)

Not that anyone is counting, but we're 10 days from the solstice, less than a month from celebrating a new year, and two months from tomorrow the Winter Olympics in Vancouver begin. Although there are several reasons to dislike the modern Olympics - it's brazen commercialism, the large-scale amount of waste generated by changing venues each Olympiad, and of course an over-exposure of Bob Costas - we can't help but get excited about this year's Winter Games. Meghan is thrilled that her favorite country, Canada, is hosting this year. We also love to root for hometown athletes - especially in the unique events featured in the Winter Games. This year we are keenly interested in nordic skiing. A fellow Alaskan, Kikkan Randall, is touted as a favorite for the nordic freestyle sprint competition. As reported in The Times Randall can be spotted training on Anchorage trails and eating the occasional doughnut at local eateries. The Olympics also seem to freeze time, marking different stages of life. I can remember with whom and where I watched several Olympics. For instance, Beijing 2008, when not camping on our drive up to Alaska, Meghan and I were able to watch the Summer Games with varying degrees of clear reception on the TV at the occasional motor lodge across western Canada. I remember sitting next to my late grandmother as she clasped her hands, anxiously awaiting Kerri Strug's final vault in Atlanta. For good or bad, the Olympics turn sport into drama and we often can't hep but get caught up in the spectacle. Now, who's gonna supply the flatscreen?