I was in San Diego last weekend for a wedding with 20+ family members in town. Sunday we all woke up, had brunch and said our farewells. One of my cousin’s and I had the late flight out of town so we packed up our sketchbooks and camera’s and explored the city on foot. Starting at the Omni hotel we trekked through town, across the train tracks and into Balboa Park. We stumbled upon turtles, bagpipes, the botanical gardens and much more. Here’s a few pics from what we came across.
The winter weather in Tahoe bounces between rain, wind, snow, sunshine and absolutely blissful blue sky. When the wind dies and the water sits calm and clear, that’s what I’d call Tahoe true blue.
Photo captured March 4th, on the east shore of Lake Tahoe, near Incline Village.
As skiers we are all very aware of avalanches and the dangers associated. We’d like to think we take the right precautions or know how to judge the snowpack to avoid all likely triggers. But I’ll admit as a confident and adventurous skier, I’ve probably put myself in situations that we’re less than intelligent. Accidents happen and they happen to the best, most knowledgeable people at times. All we can do is make the best decisions we possibly can on a day-to-day basis, manage and mitigate risk as diligently as possible, and feel strong in our convictions to make such choices to go out into the mountains in the first place.
In an effort to educate myself more about the rules of the backcountry, avalanche safety and rescue techniques I signed up for a 3-day AIRE Level 1 Avalanche training course. I highly recommend all my friends get the training, but in the meantime I wanted to put together a little recap or cheat sheet on some of the various things I took home. Granted their is only so much you can put into a drawing, but I tried to capture some of the key things to consider as your planning your trip, picking your team, selecting appropriate terrain and venturing up or down the mountain.
In the week leading up and intro my course the state of the Tahoe backcountry had fluctuated between its highest and lowest points of the season. Many people, including myself would report some of the best “conditions” of the season, which came along with the best avalanche conditions. It went from bomber ice and windblown over the weekend to 100 MPH winds and a few feet of fresh throughout the week and warmed up to sixty degrees at lake level by the following Sunday. Many people were eager to escape the lines or the resort and tackle some of the untouched out of bounds terrain. Unfortunately we witnessed not one, but two separate deaths by avalanche that week in our own backyard. We had and still have a persistent weak layer in the snowpack that continues to be a concern. But as we learned in the Avi 1 course is that their aren’t “No Go” days, but instead “No Go” places.
5 Safety Tips:
Use the decision-making framework to help select appropriate terrain.
Travel safely: be alert to changing conditions, communicate with group and be prepared for rescue at all times.
Test your gear and practice, practice, practice with it.
In the classroom we discussed the types of avalanches that exist; dry snow and slab, how to measure size and destructive potential, what causes them to occur, how the snow changes both above and below the surface and what influences those changes. We analyzed avalanche reports and accidents (which anyone can do at avalanche.org), including one that happened the day prior in our own backyard making it a very real and timely matter. A huge emphasis was put on “seeing what the experts are seeing” by reading the local avalanche report and going out and testing the snow to find that persistent weak layer in the forecast.
We hit the field, dug snow pits, and tested the integrity of the snowpack, layers and surface conditions. We saw surface hoar formed after a cold night, weak layers at the bottom caused by faceting and layers that changed from the base of our hike to the summit due to rapid warming. We learned tests on the go and practiced using our beacons, shovels and probes in simulated rescues. Something anyone, including myself can and should do regularly with a few friends, have fun with it, make it an apre ski festivity and hide some beers along with hidden transceiver.
The more you can be confident in your own decision making the safer you’ll be. No one ever plans on going out into the backcountry and not returning home that evening, just like no one plans on heading to the resort one day and not returning home as well. Have fun, be safe, and ski for a lifetime!
Winds, lines and closed signs didn’t stop the onslaught of people dying for fresh tracks. Gusts kept the top of the mountain from opening, but filled the tracks from the run before. I’d say it was some of the best skiing this year, even if you had to be light on your toes to avoid the shallow rocks, stumps and obstacles below. Let’s hope we have a ”Miracle March” with a few more powder days to come.
Kalalau Valley AKA Paradise is like no place I have been before, it reminds me of the happy place in the land before time movie.
Over forty years after my dad trekked along the Na Pali coast I ventured down the rather unchanged windy path to paradise. The 11-mile trail bounced up and down along steep cliffs; through lush forest and muddy red slopes before descending upon the white sand beach of Kalalau Valley. It is a calm, gorgeous, almost surreal place that’s been frozen in time, where the people live off the land and shower and drink from a waterfall.
To get there we took a quick flight from Maui in the morning, an hour long bus ride up north to Princeville where we stocked up on food, water and gas for our makeshift tin can stove. At dusk we hitched over to the trailhead at Haena Beach Park and snuck on to make the 4-mile hike into Hanakapia before sundown. We arrived late enough to miss the tourists and be greeted by the wild kittens that scour the beach for food at days end, every time you looked back in the darkness you could see their eyes shimmer.
We encountered all sorts of characters on our way in, but the most memorable was “Kill Bill” who has set up a home near the helicopter landing a mile or two outside the valley. Bill, a tall toothless man who wore only small black running shorts with a machete slung around his waste was far less harmless than he looked. He has devoted his time to restoring endangered plants, making the trail wider and safer and killing off the wild goats and boars that have damaged the landscape. He is not the only one that’s set up shop along the way; we encountered plenty of others who had camps, farms and who knows what else. Many of the people were silent, barefoot and kept to themselves, but others welcomed us upon our arrival.
Once in the valley, we too kicked off our shoes and explored barefoot. We couldn’t have asked for better weather, as we had few clouds and not a spec of rain in site, which is very fortunate for Kauai that is known for it’s wet climate. The swell kicked up and we spent hours hiking along the coast admiring the massive monsters that came crashing in from the sea. Our camp was just off the beach and the waves echoed through the night as they slammed down on the shore. We also ventured into the cave and proceeded to climb around like children. I lay on the beach and drew pictures, stacked rocks and watched the stars till I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
Kalalau was an amazing escape, it allowed me to get lost in the moment, think clearly and relax. If it weren’t for the occasional helicopter flight you’d have thought we’d hiked back in time.
Have you ever climbed through a Volcano? Walked on a black sand beach? Wondered what life without vegetation would be? Watched the stars in silence? The sunrise?
That is just what I did in Maui. I was fortunate to be included in a six person hut-hiking trip through the desolate crater of Haleakala. Rising over 10,000 feet from sea level the monstrous crater rim is seven miles long, three miles wide and 2,000 feet deep. We had the huts and what seemed like the whole crater to ourselves. The weather was perfect, the sky blue and not a cloud above. We played like kids at sunset and pulled our sleeping bags under the stars till our eyes became heavy. The last day we rose before the sun to catch it come over the valley clouds and paint pictures with the wild colors of sand. Blacks, blues, reds and yellows danced across the hills as we climbed to the summit. The protected landscape was unlike anything I’ve seen before.
Just a bunch of city kids let loose on the beach somewhere between San Francisco and Santa Cruz…
On MLK Weekend the weather forecast was sunny and surf report too good to be true for January. We packed up our camping gear and headed down the 101. As we dipped away from the city the swell lines were clean and visible all the way down the coast. For the first time I’ve seen people were surfing all sorts of hidden breaks and spots along the cliffs. When we arrived at Waddell Creek there were only a handful of people in the water and waves “looked” friendly enough. Our crew of six suited up and hit the water.
Being the only people in the water, we charged the waves together, took drops we wouldn’t normally try and acted like fools. Some people caught a few on the head, others sat far outside and some ripped it up for the rest of us who couldn’t catch a break. We surfed till we couldn’t move our arms and chilled on the beach till sundown. Eventually making our way to Santa Cruz where we camped and woke up to do it all over again the next day. Only an hours drive from the city, it felt far more removed than usual because we had the wintery beaches to ourselves.
Having spent my life on the mountains, I’ve come to expect winter to be unpredictable and delayed at times. Some years it comes in October, while others we’re scraping by in December. And if you grow up in Oregon sometimes it comes and goes away with the rain in January. Despite my love of fresh, we even have years with too much snow, when plows and patrol can’t keep up the roads and avalanche control to enjoy it. Although that is rare, this year seems to be breaking the record for abnormal conditions.
It’s January 5th and for the first time in over twenty years I have only skied one day this season. For someone who used to log more days on snow than off in a year this is a little startling. Granted, I am living further from the slopes and I have work and surfing to distract me, but it is hard to ignore the impact on the mountain economy. With most of the western United States experiencing far below average snowfall, if any. While Alaska and the Northwest are getting hit, most of California is operating on a few man made runs and lots of sunshine on the horizon. Locals can be found hiking, biking, climbing and even swimming in the Sierra’s.
This year more than ever though I’ve come to realize that winter is a luxury, and snow the crop in the farmer’s economy. The livelihood of sales reps, ski patrol and anyone that thrives on tourism is at stake, i.e. the majority of the ski industry and many of my friends. As much as I want to complain about my own lack of turns, I’m forced to pray for the better. Although that is not the only reason I’m more appreciative of my turns this season.
My one and only day so far this season happened to be with my brother Sam, who has severe Cerebral Palsy, and cannot walk, talk or ski on his own. That’s never stopped him from wanting to go fast and rip turns like the rest of us. He got his first bi-ski at age 12 and has since had to find chairs that will suit his growing needs just to squeeze in a few runs. He turned 24 over Christmas and after a 4 year hiatus from skiing he was chomping at the bit to get on the slopes. We had reservations at Mt. Bachelor adaptive ski school and after cancelling our first day because of rain, we got a call to cancel again due to early season conditions i.e. no grooming, wet snow and winds which can be very jarring on a sit skier. Admittedly I wasn’t very eager to get out, but when Sam persisted, I couldn’t deny him the opportunity.
We pimped out his rig and hit the mountain with a posse of three aids, my mother and myself. Sam quickly asked to speed up, catch air and laughed at the thought of scaring my mom. We all got three ripping runs and he couldn’t have been happier. If I don’t get another day in this season (Which I know we will), I’ll be happy to say I got my one with Sam.
Here is just a little peak at skiing with him:
Please excuse the videographer… you’ll get the picture!
Though I’d like to think doing a snow dance and sacrificing some skis to the snow gods will do the trick, it appears to me like our weather system is a little out of wack. Let’s just hope Mother Nature comes through strong in the next couple months to make up for lost time.
Love of the water only grows as you spend time in it. The feeling of freedom it provides and the sense of playfulness within is hard to match.
Whether it was at the pool, beach or on the river, I spent almost every day of my youthful summers in the water. But it was only recently that I started to truly appreciate the ocean in all its beauty and strength. As a surfer you become very in tune with the water around you. It’s very alive, always changing, moving and reminding me to go with the flow of life. Each time as I paddle around, sometimes alone, sometimes joined by dolphins and otters or thousands more people in California, I learn something new. I am continually humbled by the waves, some days they make me feel glorious, while other days it’s like I have no business out there.
It is difficult to explain the connection with waves that keeps myself or others going back. But I thought Mickey Smith, a charming, humble, creative and passionate surfer/ photographer did an exceptional job. In his recent appearance at the DO Lectures he shares a poetic story and the magic of waves in his film Darskide of the Lens, along with a few valuable lessons to live by…
DO arm yourself with a grin.
DO embrace being out of control.
DO let your weirdness flow free. Go mad and be yourself.
DO trust in the things you love.
DO get primal with nature.
DO trust your instincts and run with them always.
DO use your fears and failures as fuel.
DO what you love for a living. But be wise with it.
“Fires of happiness, waves of gratitude for everything that brought us to that point in life at that point in time to do something worth remembering with a photograph or a scar.”
His words are inspiring. Take 20 minutes to watch this talk and steep yourself in some of the wisdom that Mickey has to offer.
MICKEY SMITH
Photographer, film maker & surfer
Mickey Smith is a lad that has lived a life a little less ordinary. He grew up amongst a family of fisherman and mariners, so the ocean and the elements were inevitably where he was drawn. At the age of 9 he was given a disposable camera and an acoustic guitar and cameras and music combined with the magic of waves eventually led him to become a photographer and film maker. From Iceland to Tahiti, Ireland to Japan, Mickey’s love for waves of consequence and isolated environments has left him with many a fine tale to tell and worldwide acclaim for his groundbreaking creative endeavours.
Having spent my life on the mountains, I’ve come to expect winter to be unpredictable and delayed at times. Some years it comes in October, while others we’re scraping by in December. And if you grow up in Oregon sometimes it comes and goes away with the rain in January. Despite my love of fresh, we even have years with too much snow, when plows and patrol can’t keep up the roads and avalanche control to enjoy it. Although that is rare, this year seems to be breaking the record for abnormal conditions.
My one and only day so far this season happened to be with my brother Sam, who has severe Cerebral Palsy, and cannot walk, talk or ski on his own. That’s never stopped him from wanting to go fast and rip turns like the rest of us. He got his first bi-ski at age 12 and has since had to find chairs that will suit his growing needs just to squeeze in a few runs. He turned 24 over Christmas and after a 4 year hiatus from skiing he was chomping at the bit to get on the slopes. We had reservations at Mt. Bachelor adaptive ski school and after cancelling our first day because of rain, we got a call to cancel again due to early season conditions i.e. no grooming, wet snow and winds which can be very jarring on a sit skier. Admittedly I wasn’t very eager to get out, but when Sam persisted, I couldn’t deny him the opportunity.
