With rapidly evolving protocols, regulations, ordinances, and updates, you are now working from home while navigating COVID-19. Your company, too, is evolving thanks to virtual meetings, VPNs, and technological advancements. In fact, you and your coworkers now wonder if remote work will prevail when the dust settles.
If that doesn’t apply to you, it may also be likely that thanks to COVID-19 you have been laid off, furloughed, or reallocated to part-time. You now have a plethora of free time but can’t actually do the things you used to daydream about if you were granted a permanent vacation since, well, the nation and world are experiencing something resembling lockdown.
Regardless of which situation best describes you at present, you are likely experiencing a situation similar to falling overboard off of the cruise ship and trying your best to tread water while you get your bearings.
Regaining your “normal” lifestyle likely won’t come to fruition until the coronavirus winds down/ becomes manageable at scale. There are, however, small steps that you can take to normalize your temporary lifestyle. Routines and schedules are tools that can offer you a way to feel normal.
Doing things in a certain order from the start of the day allows you to check things off of a list, feel the sensation of accomplishing tasks, and build momentum throughout the day. Routines work because of this momentum.
Create a realistic routine for yourself. If you’re not a morning person, telling yourself that you will wake up at 5:00am and go running for an hour will likely result in you hitting snooze, not running, and then beating yourself up for having hit snooze and not gone on your run all while throwing off the rest of your routine. Positive momentum builds and, unsurprisingly, negative momentum does as well.
Here’s an example of a shelter-in-place routine that you can implement, and adapt to fit, in your own life:
- Wake up at the same time every day.
- Make coffee, put it in a to-go mug and take a walk (alone). Listen to music, a podcast, an audio book, whatever. But this is your “commute time”; as you would normally spend on your way to work.
- When you get back, make yourself breakfast. Read for a set period of time during/ after your breakfast. Reading, synthesizing, and digesting information (and your breakfast) will help turn your brain on in the morning.
- Then if you have work stuff to do, regardless of if you are currently employed or not, get to it (i.e. emails, meetings, bills, unemployment logistics, phone calls etc…).
- Go for another walk at a set lunch time and then eat lunch when you get back. Incorporate a social phone call on this short walk (or a work call- but leave your work space). Consider ordering take-out to support any local businesses that are still open if you are financially able.
- After lunch, carve out some productivity time. Set your calendar to unavailable so you don’t get interrupted (unless you have meetings, prior engagements, etc…). You can use this time to work on projects, job hunt, work on your resume and professional profiles, read up on a new skill that you want to learn, or something new that you’re interested in. This can be as simple as watching youtube videos on new cooking recipes you want to try or as advanced as learning HTML. The point of this time slot is to get your brain firing on something new that it has to figure out.
- After your “work day” is over go for a run, do zoom yoga, or some type of exercise. Same time slot, every day. It does not have to be rigorous exercise. (You can also sub this time slot for FaceTime/Zoom/ Google Hangout calls to be social with the people in your life).
- Make dinner/ have dinner. If you stocked up on food and not just toilet paper, congrats! Make something new or that you haven’t had in a while. This could also be another opportunity to support open local businesses if you are financially able.
- Watch something on any of the streaming platforms you might have. A lot of them have beefed up their list of offerings since the whole world now needs new content. You could also read, play music, do a puzzle, tackle that home improvement project you’ve been putting off etc…
- Go to bed at a reasonable hour, and get enough sleep. You are not on vacation.
After crafting your daily schedule, spend a few days test driving it. Tweak it and make changes to improve it. Downtime can get away from you, fast. Now is a great time to take on projects that you’ve been shelving until a time when you could actually focus on them. You’ve just been granted the time to tackle them.
Use Sunday or Monday to goal set for your week. These don’t have to be enormous goals. Those big projects you’re ready to take on? What would the first step be? How about the second? Cool, there are your first two objectives right there. By segmenting your big picture goals into smaller, more manageable pieces you are much more likely to actually start to make progress. Figure out those steps, and then sprinkle them into your schedule for the week each Sunday or Monday. Then on Friday, take inventory of what you were able to accomplish. It is one hundred percent ok if you didn’t meet your goal for the week; don’t beat yourself up. The point of taking inventory is to figure out what your next step is. Do you need to change your goals? Do you need to change the actionable steps that you took to try and move toward your goal? Being able to see and adjust those parts of your equation will help you succeed!
Given the likelihood that you’re sheltered in place with someone else or even multiple people, carving out productive personal time will make the shared time in communal spaces more bearable.
Remember: the social impacts of COVID-19 are temporary. Use the tools at your disposal to support yourself during this time. If by using those tools you happen to sharpen them and like their role in your life, keep using them when we get back to “normal”.
In the time of COVID-19, a lot of us have found ourselves with an uptick in how much screen time is present in our lives.
If you’re like me, that means a lot of scrolling, and quite a bit of combing through content in search of something that a) I want to watch or listen to, and b) something that will hold my attention. So the #QRS, or the Quarantine ReScreen, marches on. To read more about the origin of the #QRS, click here.
There seems to be a direct correlation between sliding on snow and creating art. A lot of snow sport pros also dabble (or excel) in the world of artistic expression. In fact, there are too many adventure sport athletes who relish artistic creation outside of their sport for it to be an anomaly. That much is rather obvious, and Eric Pollard‘s film “Drawn From Here” addresses that relationship in the opening couple of minutes alone.
Pollard has been a professional skier for 20 years. He is also an accomplished ski/ hard goods product designer and an artist. Oh, and he’s behind the film and production company, Nimbus Independent which originated in 2007. Other notable athletes involved in the inception of Nimbus Independent include Pep Fujas, Andy Mahre, and Chris Benchetler.
“Drawn From Here” in itself is a work of art. While it explains the artistic approach to sliding on snow, it also delves into how that approach encapsulates Pollard’s whole life. After experiencing a life altering injury, the creative process proved itself as an outlet as well as a roadmap to recovery.
There is a lot to be learned from the approach to adversity highlighted in “Drawn From Here”; always, but especially now during the time of COVID-19.
In the time of COVID-19, a lot of us have found ourselves with an uptick in how much screen time is present in our lives.
If you’re like me, that means a lot of scrolling, and quite a bit of combing through content in search of something that a) I want to watch or listen to, and b) something that will hold my attention. So, it seems an appropriate time to roll out the #QRS, or, the Quarantine ReScreen. To read more about the origin of the #QRS, click here.
Switching it up on this edition of the #QRS with a podcast. Here’s something for those of you who are working from home and want something to listen to while you pretend you’re paying attention to your video conference, or those trying to stay sane by starting to run again and are in need of a distraction while you plod past mile 3.
The idea for the Quarantine ReScreen came from the hype of Premier Season in the ski/snowboard world (aka Fall, one of the 4 weather seasons that normal people acknowledge). Therefor it seemed only fitting to feature Mark Warner’s podcast interview with Jeff Schmuck on The Low Pressure Podcast. Schmuck is the head judge of IF3 and serves as the editor of Forecast Ski Magazine.
IF3 is an annual film festival that doles out awards for deserving ski and ride flicks. The festival takes place in the fall and serves as the kickoff for the ski/ board movie premier tours that follow. While we can’t partake in the social aspect of IF3, which sucks because it’s an absolute blast, we can cop a behind the scenes glance at what goes into film selection for the fest. Schmuck is tasked with sifting through the entries to find the gems. Yes, that means hours and hours of watching ski and board films… best job ever? (Jeff, if you ever need help, give me a holler). He talks about the process and also sheds some perspective on the snow sports industry that he’s observed through his tenure. Toss in the ear buds, or don’t if you’re in solitary quaranfinement, and queue up the pod.
QRS Podcast Feature: The Low Pressure Podcast episode #137 with Jeff Schmuck
Listen to this episode via Apple Podcasts.
In the time of COVID-19, a lot of us have found ourselves with an uptick in how much screen time is present in our lives.
If you’re like me, that means a lot of scrolling, and quite a bit of combing through content in search of something that a) I want to watch, and b) something that will hold my attention. So, it seems an appropriate time to roll out the #QRS, or, the Quarantine ReScreen.
The ski and snowboard industry fondly refers to the time of year known to the rest of the world as late Fall, instead as Premier Season. Unlike trailer season, which takes place in the Summer and early Fall, Premier Season is when all of the film companies, brands, and athletes, release their projects from the prior season to the world.
Given that Premier Season already happened and we are not near Trailer Season yet, let us commence the Quarantine ReScreen. I’ll be featuring some ski/ board/ outdoor content from this past season to accompany you on your couch, or your work-from-home desk. Just remember to hit mute during your Zoom meeting/ Google Hangout/ [insert video chat platform here].
The best part? We don’t have to wait. The full length films and projects are already released. While the build up and anticipation of both Trailer and Premier Season makes them extra exciting, you get to capitalize on instant gratification. Frankly, you deserve it in this oh so unique time.
First up in the #QRS is The Blank Collective‘s “The 7 Stages Of Blank” via Salomon TV.
The Blank Collective crushed this film. It is one of my favorites of the last few years of ski media, and it’s because of the STYLE. From the editing, to the soundtrack, to the camaraderie of the crew. Oh, and well, uhh, the skiing speaks for itself. I like the varied styles that blend together in this project. There’s pow, there’s trees, there’s cliffs, there’s road gaps, there’s freestyle tricks , and there’s finessed dissection of technical lines. Big love to this film. Grab a beer and give it a watch. Oh, and if a koozie isn’t part of your work-from-home set up yet, you’re doing it wrong.
Whistler Freeride Club
It’s easier to change yourself than to change the world. And the best way to change the world is to change yourself.
That’s impact at scale. Big pictures are great, but they are scalable. The big picture is made up of the small details. This seems obvious, but often gets overlooked in our day-to-day lives.
If you want to paint a big picture, you have to start small. I believe in systems; behavior, patterns, routines. These dictate the realities we accept and live by. You can adjust your systems, and you should, just like you would with any other machine. You service your car regularly and you update your iPhone software regularly- treat your habits the same way. Solidify what works, and discard or change what doesn’t.
You should also question the data your process is giving you. Apply a lens of critical thinking. When you arrive at a conclusion, it’s not about believing in your answer or outcome. It’s about believing in the system that gave you your answer. Build a good operating system for yourself.
Walk through your day-to-day operating procedure in your mind in the context of happiness; are you happy? No, seriously… think about it. Are you?
Do you shape your life around your job or do you shape your job around your life? You can answer honestly, your boss can’t read your mind… yet.
If the answer to the initial question was yes, you’re happy, that’s great! Could you adjust the equation of things that make up what you have going on in life to make you even happier? Probably. If the answer to the first question was a resounding “no”, let’s aim to figure out why.
Take inventory of how you spend your time. Are there things you could eliminate from your day-to-day? Do it. If it’s not an obligation, use the “hell yes vs. no” strategy. Your friends ask you to join them for dinner on Thursday, but you have an important meeting on Friday morning and you’d rather run after work and go to bed early instead of go out on Thursday. If your answer to dinner isn’t a Hell Yes! its a no.
Everything in moderation, including moderation.
Didn’t exercise today? Ate a bunch of junk food? Didn’t get enough sleep? Drank too much alcohol? Watched too much Netflix? Didn’t answer all of your emails?
Wallowing in your negatives won’t make them better, and it will prevent you from using that brain space to come up with actionable steps to improve them.
Focus on the trend line. If your overall practices contribute to a positive trend line, you’re in good shape. Cut yourself some slack, too, by the way. If the trend line isn’t where you want it to be, start with slow, measurable change. Focus on one thing that you want to improve and then make a realistic plan on how to do it. So you want to exercise more. Start with one or two days a week. Want to watch less Netflix? If you watch Netflix at night before bed, try reading one night per week instead of watching Netflix (or insert other activity you like instead. Draw, play the guitar, write, play a board game with friends etc…) Those small changes will increase your trend line if you keep up with them. Be sure to tell yourself “good job” for the things you do well, too.
The trend line measurement tool applies to this axiom too: “If you like what you do, you won’t work a day in your life”. Great sentiment, but somewhat unrealistic. Work is unavoidable. If the “grunt work” contributes in part to an overall positive trend line of happiness, then count that as a win.
Is not loving your job ok? That answer may differ. If your job affords you a lifestyle you love, is it worth it to YOU?
Maybe you work a nine-to-five at a desk in an office. Your work is challenging, but rewarding. Its not your favorite, but it pays the bills. You enjoy your coworkers and you have room to grow at your company. Your nine-to-five allows you to comfortably afford to travel, go to concerts or events you like, work out at lunch in the gym at your office, and have time on weeknights to play trivia at your favorite bar.
This equation might work for YOU. Does it give you a life that you’re happy with? If yes, great!
If no, adjust your equation.
Maybe it means getting a new job! Maybe sitting at a desk isn’t your thing. Maybe you love painting. You might not be able to afford to paint full time right now, so you’ll have to work a job you don’t necessarily love so you can paint in your free time until you can afford to do it full time.
Maybe you love serving or bartending because it lets you interact with people. Great! Build your lifestyle around that.
Maybe you love skiing, and being in the mountains all day makes you happy. Work at a ski resort!
Everyone’s equation is different. You’re the only one who can change yours. If you remove the “but I’m supposed to”, what would you actually want to do?
Go do it.
Even if you don’t know who Daewon Song is, this documentary gives some really great insight into a legend in the world of skateboarding.
Daewon is an innovator. His creativity and overall approach are what set him apart from other skateboarders. Above all else, its entertaining to watch him skate. For example, these posts of his on Instagram:
This film by Adidas skateboarding shines a light on his career and the tenacity it took to make a name for himself as a skateboarder. The film explores his friendship with Rodney Mullen, another skateboarding legend, and takes a look at their career journey through brand deals and the world of professional skateboarding. I’d definitely give the documentary a watch.
When faced with a new opportunity, the unknown is the scary part. That’s fear. Notice it, accept it, and then do it anyway. You won’t REALLY know unless you do it. You’re not going to be an expert the first time you do anything. But, your attitude is a choice. Always. Respond, don’t react. Learning to take situations in stride and control how you approach them is a skill that gets better the more you practice.
I’ve adopted a not-so-secret equation that guides how I operate in life. It centers around exposure, judgement/ decision making, and self awareness. Essentially, it is a 3 pronged repeating cycle; look, try, assess. Look toward something new, try it, assess how it went.
Work- however that looks to you. But work hard. Short term goals = long term impact. Set measurable goals and start crossing them off. Your perspective dictates what you think is possible. So, push your boundaries and keep redefining what “achievable” means to you. Look, try, assess. Exposure is everything. Challenge normal. Normal is safe. RISK forward and embrace opportunity.
Posting and writing about snowboarding isn’t new for me; it’s kind of my favorite thing ever. Teaching snowboarding is a big part of my snowboarding world, and I don’t often post about it… so here we go.
I’ve been passionate about sliding on snow since I was two years old. That is when my mom had me click into skis for the first time. My aptitude for going fast took a short lived hiatus when I was seven and became a snowboarder because, well, I was new to it and I was a beginner all over again. This was a bit of a faux pas in my family; a family of proud, east coast SKIERS.
Fun fact: my first time snowboarding was in my snow-covered driveway. My first time snowboarding at a lift serviced mountain was at Ski Bradford in Massachusetts. Double fun fact: on my first run ever, I grabbed ahold of the rope-tow, immediately fell over and proceeded to get dragged uphill to my final (or starting) destination.
I’ve been sliding on snow for twenty three years now and have been teaching both snowboarding and skiing professionally for nine of those years.
What I love about snowboard instructing:
Working with people. I LOVE working with people. Snowboard instructing allows me to share my passion of snowboarding with people who demonstrate at least some (varying) level of interest in sliding on snow. BOOM. NEW BEST FRIENDS EVERY DAY.
I get to spend time with people from all walks of life who have a goal of improving their snowboarding so that they can enjoy the activity in their own life. Most of the time snowboarding is part of a trip or vacation for them, so the goal is always to have fun. My job is to make sure people are having fun… yeah, I know, but someone has to do it. Rest assured, I am equipped with an arsenal of dad jokes for the cause.
Each client has a different goal. Sometimes I work with moms who are on vacation with their kids and want to improve their skills so that they can keep up. Sometimes I work with people prepping for a heli-ski trip and want to work on their skills in steep terrain. Sometimes I work with dads who sit behind a desk and need to find their legs again. Sometimes I work with kids who want to learn tricks so that they can be the next Travis Rice, Danny Davis, or Red Gerard.
All of these clients want to achieve something different and it is my job to facilitate their growth in the direction of their goals, in a way that works best for them. The tool that I am tasked with deploying for all of these individual’s success can be boiled down to a term called “movement analysis”. It is my job to be able to see what someone is doing while they are riding and be able to identify what body movements are making their board perform the way that it is. From there, I need to know what will improve their riding, and be able to create and implement a lesson plan that will push them toward their goals- adapting on the fly throughout the time we spend together.
The lightbulb. The best part of my job is when one of my clients has a breakthrough moment and looks at me with the “I DID IT” face.
Playing. We talked about fun earlier. Laughing, joking around, challenging ourselves, good snow, good weather, good food, and a well earned après scene; those are factors to the fun equation… but they aren’t the whole thing. Making learning fun can be as easy as setting the example as an instructor. Snowboarding isn’t school, and it isn’t rigid. Letting it flow and playing around on my snowboard means that I’m having fun, and it leads to fun-having on my clients behalf as well. It can also lead to new goals if they see something that they want to learn.
Case study: Julian
Julian is a very athletic young ripper that had never been to Jackson Hole Mountain Resort (@jacksonhole) before and wanted to learn to ride more challenging terrain while integrating some freestyle elements into his riding.
Some things that we focused on:
Safety- being aware of other skiers and riders, choosing safe and appropriate terrain, making sure the coast is clear in the terrain park, and calling our “drop” (letting others know that it’s our turn to go into the jumps). See SMART style here.
Riding– Julian uses an athletic stance and bent knees to absorb terrain, and to align himself throughout his turns. It is very clear to see in the videos that he has upper and lower body separation; his lower body can control the turning and direction of the board while his upper body maintains a balanced position even in difficult terrain (an example would be the moguls he rode). This is an advanced move, and will set him up to continue to grow into a great snowboarder.
Some things we can continue to work on include keeping his upper body and shoulders taller/ upright while simultaneously bending his knees with the goal of eliminating the hunched over body position he reverts to in more challenging terrain. I used treading water as an example for him, being that he is a swimmer. I encouraged him to think of keeping his head and shoulders out of the water while his legs bend and move independently beneath him. Another way we thought about this was to think about keeping his chin up (literally; adjusting his head upward a bit more will pull his shoulders and chest into alignment as well).
This focus on body alignment will help him out tremendously when working toward more challenging terrain, especially as he adds in more freestyle elements to his riding such as jumps, grabs, and spins. I tested this out with his “flatland 360’s” (spinning on the ground). He did great! Next steps would be to work on keeping his head up instead of looking down, and getting his body alignment more upright and less hunched over.
Snowboarding is fun. Clients like Julian who are willing to try, and who are in it to have a great time make snowboard coaching fun.
Planning a trip to Jackson Hole? Interested in snowboarding on that trip? Give me a holler and let’s make some turns in pow town!
The square, gray rack of puzzle pieced plates slides into position and I once again lower the lid of the industrial dish washer. The jets whir to life on a mission to provide clean plates for the line cooks so that they, in turn, could serve food to high class tourists enjoying the night life of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. While the water churns in the dishwasher, I have just enough time to fire off a text before resuming the never-ending scrubbing ritual that precedes the puzzle piecing and loading of the plates into the dishwasher. The text is simple, yet effective, and will be enough to set the plan in motion since I won’t be able to text back until I close and lock up around 12:15am. “DP 25? Solid forecast… Avy?”.
If he doesn’t have to work, Ryan will be stoked to dawn patrol at 25 Short. A dawn patrol means to hike at sunrise, and to a backcountry skier or snowboarder it means a really early start for a quiet morning of fresh turns before the rest of the world wakes up. 25 Short is a backcountry ski route in Grand Teton National Park having earned its name because its false summit sits just twenty five feet below 10,000ft of elevation at 9,975 ft. The route also offers access to a bunch of different terrain options to ride down, making it a good starting point for a route selection that could change based on the conditions of the day. Given the new snow, recent avalanche forecast, and virtually complete absence of tourists, that’s where I want to be.
I’d assumed my post in the dish pit around 4:45pm after taking the bus from the mountain back to my car and driving over. I had been used to the tight squeeze, but working doubles allows for a few days off every week and my 3 day weekend officially starts tomorrow. I’d been at the mountain since shortly after 8am to make the journey from the parking lot up to my locker, get my gear and uniform on, and get down to the chairlift to meet my client at 9am. The base of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort is affectionately called the village, but during peak tourist time periods it feels more like a city. Knowing where to go once up on the mountain and off of the crowded base makes it feel like your own isolated paradise. My client and I wrapped up just shy of 4pm when the chairlifts close, and I did my usual mad-dash back to the locker room and then down to the parking lot to catch the bus amidst the overflowing crowd of people also commuting from the mountain back toward town on the one road that connects the two.
Swigging my shifty, my complementary beer for diligently performing my illustrious dish sanitation duties for the evening, I rid myself of my smock and pull out my phone with my pruned fingers. Ryan had responded, “Ya dude, I am IN!”. I knew he’d be excited. Our days off don’t always line up, but we occasionally get the chance to take an early lap or two before work. Tomorrow, neither of us has to be back in a rush. “Sweet man, I’ll peep the avy report and give another holler around 5am”.
I finally pull into my driveway around 12:35am, thankful that I hadn’t left my snowboard boots or my goggles in my locker in the village. Definitely haven’t done that before…
As I walk inside I routinely begin laying out my gear. I place my jacket and mid-layer hoodie on the rack by the door, and then make my way across the living room to put my boots, hat, gloves, and glove liners in the hallway in front of the heater. Turning, I pluck my blue and white Jones splitboard from our apartment’s gear closet that overflows into our living room and onto the couch. The gaudy green, faux leather couch is accompanied by a futon, both picked up at furniture swaps. They allow our living room to transform into a hostel for frequent vacation visits from friends of mine or of my roommates.
I’ve made it a habit to pack and ready my gear the night before going out so that I don’t have to do a million and one things at 4:30 in the morning when I’m groggier than the subject of an allergy medication commercial.
Unclipping the bindings, I separate the splitboard into its two-plank mode, pivoting and then reattaching the bindings to complete the transformation from snowboard to skis. I affix my climbing skins to the bottoms of each split ski and then lash the skis together with a voile strap in a neat bundle with my poles. Climbing skins are like magical little pieces of carpet that you put on the bottom of your skis or board so that they grip the snow and allow you to walk uphill like you’re snowshoeing. (Once at the top, you take off and stow the skins in your backpack, clip the board back together, and then totally surf that sweet pow pow down the mountain, bruh.)
I try not to wake up my roommates as I make my way upstairs to retrieve my avalanche airbag so that I can pack it with my beacon, probe, shovel, and gear for the morning. I check the batteries of my avalanche beacon the night before too, because if I need to replace them, I’d rather know that now rather than when trying to get out the door.
An avalanche beacon is a Gameboy-sized transmitter that lets you find other transmitters, and lets them find you. You wear it on your body so that if buried in an avalanche, people can find you and dig you out. For those same reasons, I carry a collapsible tent pole-like item called a probe to poke through the snow and hopefully come into contact with a buried person, marking their location. And that’s also why I carry a collapsible shovel; to dig out that buried person from the probe’s marked position.
In my backpack you’ll find a medical kit with extra athletic tape, band-aids, and mole-skin for blisters caused by ski or snowboard boots. More often than not, these get used by other people instead of me, but I carry them because most people don’t. Depending on the day and what I need, you’ll also find:
- 2 liters of water
- a knife
- a compass
- a repair kit
- an emergency space blanket
- a foldable SAM splint for potential injuries
- extra emergency energy bars
- a multi tool
- extra parts for snowboard bindings
- extra snowboard boot laces
- walkie talkies
- a notebook
- mechanical pencils
- a snow saw
- a couple of beers
- an extra base layer
- and extra mid layer
- extra goggle lenses
- an extra neck buff
- an external battery pack for my phone in case of emergency
- my DSLR camera to, ya know, totally get the shot bro
I’ll also bring a coffee thermos, caffeine free tea, and sports drink mix for the car. Probably some La Croix too. (I consume a lot of beverages, OK?)
Lastly before bed I lay out my clothes for the morning. Yeah, really. It saves time and I’m a zombie before I have my coffee.
* * *
My phone’s surge to life forces my own and I slowly move across the floor to silence the radiating alarm. 4:30am on the dot. I flip the light on and sit down on the edge of my bed for a minute. A few deep breaths, a slap in the face, and an elongated “fuck” exhaled under my breath combat my urge to lie back down. That, and the plans I had already made with Ryan. I do that intentionally on my days off so that I escape from people up into the mountains instead of downstairs onto my couch.
Tossing on a pair of sweatpants and a sweat shirt I make my way downstairs, round the corner at the bottom, and pass the hallway heater and my gear, stepping off of the carpet and onto the cold tile of the kitchen floor en route to the coffee maker. Hitting light switches along the way, my groggy movements are methodical, calculated, and rehearsed. I have to pee; but I grind the coffee beans first, fill the pot with water, slap the ON button and then start boiling more water for oatmeal. Now, I head toward the bathroom while the coffee pot and tea kettle do their thing. Efficiency- no wasted steps.
Sitting at the kitty-cornered kitchen table next to the hallway door, I eat my bowl of oatmeal with a banana and peanut butter while I read over the avalanche report on my laptop. A few different weather sites are also bookmarked in my browser and I open all of them in order, reading and comparing the information for different elevations and locations nearby. I send the text to Ryan at 5:05am, “Looking good. New layer seems moderately stable so far and the flakes are still falling”.
“Copy that. Lets do it!”
“Meet at the home ranch parking lot at 5:30? I can drive”
“Word. See ya there”
Finished eating, I guzzle the rest of my coffee and then fill my travel mug right up to the brim and set it on the counter. I work through a quick stretching routine in the living room and then head upstairs to put my snowboarding clothes on, now that I’m awake and semi-functioning.
Once my snow pants are on I check my beacon again before stowing it in my pocket. Back downstairs I step into my work boots without tying them, pull my hood up over my beanie, and crack the door to head out to my car. The chill of the pre-dawn air stings my eyes and slithers up my nose and into my throat. I exhale and feel my breath twinge the ends of my mustache and beard as the vapor freezes crisply to the hair on my face. I crack a smile in the darkness and step out into the snow to go start my car so it can warm up and melt some of the fresh white fluff off of my windshield.
* * *
The parking pull out is empty except for a couple of other cars. “They’re here early”, Ryan noted as we both looked at the fresh tire tracks in the snow curving ahead to the parked cars. “Must be tackling a pretty big objective if they’re trying to get up high ahead of the sun” I added.
Sunshine and warmer temperatures during the day melt snow at elevation faster and create higher risk for avalanche, kind of like the snow that heats up and slides off of the roof of your house. So, the longer your hike to where you want to go, the earlier you have to start if you want to minimize your risk of triggering or being swept in a slide.
Leaving the car is always the hardest part for me. Not because I don’t want to go snowboarding, but because it’s likely the coldest I’ll be all day. I’m dressed for hiking, which means I’m dressed to be hot and sweaty even though I’m not yet. All of my extra layers are stowed in my backpack and I’m about to put my snowboard boots on while trying not to step in the snow with my socks. Lacing up snowboard boots with non-gloved hands is always a time sensitive challenge as well. When I’m done, I strap into my bindings and hoist my pack onto my back. The sun isn’t up yet, but the morning light is starting to dimly illuminate the jagged silhouette of the Tetons above us.
I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of looking at the Tetons. The impressive mountain range is 40 miles long, 8 miles wide, and stands a whopping 13,770ft tall at the summit of the Grand; the tallest peak of the bunch. The Grand also sits just off-center of the panoramic mountainscape, and the sharp edges of the other staggered rock summits almost look like the snaggle-toothed jawline of a shark.
Despite the subtle morning light, we still need our headlamps, and I stab my poles into the snow beside me to adjust mine beneath my hood. The poles go into the powdery snow with ease; no crust layer on top of the snow’s surface, no mushy, clumped slush below the surface. Just soft, aerated champagne. I look over at Ryan and see that he’s doing a few Michael Phelps arm swings to get the blood flowing to warm up his hands. His head lamp is inadvertently pointed toward my eyes and I can’t make out his face in the darkness behind the light. But I can see his breath rising in front of the bulb while he’s moving his arms. “Dude you look like you’re in a Nike commercial right now”, I say. “Huh?”, he doesn’t get it. I mimic his motion, and my headlamp creates the same effect. Now he gets it and we both laugh.
Holy shit this is going to be a good day.
I tell Ryan where I stashed my keys in case anything happens and he needs to access them in an emergency. Next, we test our walkie talkies and turn our avalanche beacons on, checking to make sure that each beacon detects the other.
It is now 6am and I get to press one more button before we depart, and this one is my favorite: airplane mode.
It usually takes a few steps to get into the rhythm of slip sliding forward on a splitboard or skis with skins on the bottoms. You push off of one foot and gently glide onto the other in a half walking, half rollerblading motion. The silence of the morning is only broken by the clicking of our bindings and the creaking of compressed snow beneath our strides. That, and the shuffle of our hard-shell pants and jackets as we move swiftly through the darkness. The elevation of the parking lot where we left my car sits at about 6,625 ft, and it will take us about three and a half hours to climb the 3,000 feet of elevation to the saddle of 25 Short.
As we climb further from the parking lot and into the trees, the growing light dances past the snow flakes and lingers on the tree branches; highlighting the sparkling crystals already settled on the frozen limbs. We weave our way upward, steam escaping from the open vents in our jackets and rising above our heads and shoulders, though our breath and pace remain steady. My shell pants have vents from the upper thigh to the mid-calf on the inside and outside of each leg, and since my body is a furnace, I tend to hike with those cranked open, especially as we reach higher elevation and steeper slopes.
These steeper slopes require a “Z” style zig zagging path up the mountain. The path we’re making is called a skin track, and the diagonals criss crossing the slope are called switchbacks. We aren’t saying much to one another and we don’t need to. The snow has subsided and the clouds have been burning off with the dawn. Since we’ve been hiking up towards, and into, the Tetons, emerging onto the ridge means that the rising sun at our backs is now highlighting the prominent peaks in front of us in a golden array. Poking out above tree line also means a pause for rest, food, and water. For me, that’s dark chocolate covered almonds and some trailmix. But I’m mostly psyched about the dark chocolate covered almonds.
We both like the silence and the solitude. It is a welcomed oasis in a world away from the tourists in town and at the resort. I smile there too, genuinely excited to share my love of snowboarding with clients. I take pride in my work and appreciate the opportunity to connect with people from many places and all walks of life.
But this; the stillness of this moment. The serenity of this space. This place is void of time and of the stressors and pressures of life. This world is mine, if only for a bit.
I toss Ryan one of the PBR tall boys I’d stashed in my pack. He cracked it and slurped the foam off the top.
We sit. And we stare. Eyes wide, the corners of our mouths pulled back into closed smiles.
“Cheers to airplane mode”