Too Little Time to Hate

Call me crazy, but I think that the opportunities offered by snowboarding, skiing, and other wintertime activities are too enjoyable to worry about how other people enjoy them.

Even as we wind down snowboarding's third decade, the alleged feud between skiers and snowboarders still gets press. (Sometimes the attitudes are in fact not friendly; witness some online discussions when Taos Ski area announced that it would open its terrain up to snowboarders.)

But here's something I was not aware of: an anti-snowboarder sentiment within snowboarding. Perhaps naive, I was surprised how vulgar and anti-human at least one expression of this sentiment was.

Karine Ruby won the first Olympic gold medal in snowboarding, at the 1998 games. In the words of one recent article about her, she became "the most decorated female snowboarder in the world, with 2 Olympic medals, 6 world championship titles and 67 snowboard World Cup victories."

Unfortunately, that article was her obituary in the New York Times. On a mountain climb, she fell 70 feet to her death.

The Times included one passage that some people might find incendiary. Here it is:

"'In the snowboarding world, she was an unavoidable icon,' Joel Franitch, the French Skiing Federation's director of snowboarding, said in a telephone interview. 'It's a huge loss for the sport."

Did you see the offending text? "French Skiing Federation."

What gives?

Here's the answer. The Olympic games are run by the International Olympic Committee, or IOC. For each sport, the IOC picks which governing body sets the rules for who can participate. When the IOC decided it wanted to have snowboarding in the games, it had to pick which organization to deal with. There was an existing organization for snowboarders, but the IOC instead picked FIS, the worldwide skiing organization. That move provoked some anger among snowboarders, and the world's leading snowboarders refused to participate.

Over 20 years later, a few people are not willing to let that sleight go, as revealed by the following conversation I had on Twitter with a party I'll call "AS." My comments are preceded by "GOT." I've done some editing, if you can't tell.

AS: honestly was Karine Ruby a f---ing saint or something? Her skis were stuck together and called a snowboard

GOT: Karine Ruby a saint? No. But she was a pioneer, champion snowboard racer, etc. Too much anger there? Why?

AS: pioneer of what keeping snowboarding in the ski genre? Racing isn't snowboarding, she's dead people deal with it

GOT: Still mad about the role of FIS? You *are* an angry dude. I beg to differ: snowboarders *can* race.

GOT: BTW, remembering someone's contributions and life is in fact a way of dealing with death. Is that a problem?

AS: hard booting carvers are nothing more than spandex wearing wannabe skiers that couldn't hack it ski racing

AS: also how many people knew and remembered her before she died? These are the same people that suddenly cry about it, that's sad

GOT: Spandex ain't my thing either, but live and let slide, I say.

And I still do. I'm not a hardbooter, though I'm intrigued by it and may try it out sometime. I seldom watch snowboarding or skiing events (for one thing, they're hard to find on TV), but I do think that the death of anyone who has accomplished something and has a lot of life ahead of them is a sad, and a loss to many people. No man is an island, and all that.

So whatever you enjoy doing on the snow, do it, enjoy it, and be grateful for the opportunity to do it. And don't hate. Save your energy for something productive.

The Snowboarder on Skis, Day 2

I was a cross-dresser. By that, I don't mean that I was wearing women's clothing; instead, I had skis rather than a snowboard attached to my feet.

Last season I went out for a day on skis, after going three years without having been on skis. It was awkward enough that I decided to spent at least one or two days a season on skis, just so I wouldn't forget.

Due to some problems with my snowboard bindings, I spent my first day on the hill this season was on my old Volkl carving skis.

Why did I do it? Because a few days before I had spent $36 on some new straps for my ski poles.



Most poles have a strap built in, and you stick your hand through the strap to keep the poles from flying away from you. Leki has a system in which the strap is permanently attached to the glove. Stick the yellow piece of plastic attached to the strap (see photo above) into a slot at the top of the ski pole, and you've got a secure strap-pole connection. Need to put your poles down? Push a button on the top of the pole to disconnect the strap.

It's a pretty nifty system, but if you lose your gloves, you're out of luck, forced to use other poles or skiing without a strap--which could mean that if you somehow lose control of your pole, you may find yourself 100 feet down the hill from your pole.

I figured it was time to get my ski gear back to full functionality, so I bought the straps. And that meant, of course, that I had to try them out.

So for the first time since February 2005, I went to a hill with proper skis and ski poles. Having the right poles certainly made skiing easier than using my hand-me-down cross-country poles of the wrong length. And I started my turns much better than I had in December.

Having your head always pointing down the fall line is an advantage that skiing has over snowboarding, though the whole package (skis and especially boots) felt rather heavy under my feet.

Next up: Taking both board and skis to a ski area on the same day and running the NASTAR course with each setup. If I recall correctly, snowboarders get a 10 second handicap on NASTAR, which was, after all, started by skiers for skiers. It will be interesting to see how my own times actually compare to each other.

First Turns of the Season

As a kid, you waited and waited for Christmas, didn't you? As you grow older, that sense of anticipation may be replaced with the wait for your first turns on the snow. Happily, I didn't have to wait until Christmas.

Today I made my first turns, though this is probably the latest that I've ever had to wait in a season. The problem hasn't been the snow, but a variety of work and family issues, as well as the fact that the local hills started their season later than they have in some other years.

A snowfall last night, combined with bluebird skis, got me in the mood to make a quick run, even if it was on skis.

Skis?

Yes, skis. I haven't yet retrieved my board from the shop, where I had to take it after some of the fastening hardware had worked itself loose. Besides, my one-day excursion on skis last year convinced me that I didn't want to lose the ability to
ski.

Ski boots vs. Snowboard boots
Once I got to the parking lot of the ski area, I realized, once again, that there are trade-offs no matter what you put on your feet. I like being able to tighten down my ski boots, but hate how heavy they are.

Snowboard boots are much more walkable than ski boots, but the distance from my car to the base area was short, so I opted to change in the parking lot. Doing that was actually easier than carrying the boots--they're bulking and 8 pounds each--to the lodge and changing there.

The Advantages and Disadvantages of Poles
I must have looked fairly odd, since I was sporting my year-old Obermeyer jacket and toting 30-year old cross-country skis with orange-sized baskets. To make me look further out of place, the poles are all knotty and made out of bamboo, looking like you'd use them for an old-school fishing day. Never mind, at least they have straps. (My regular ski poles have detachable straps, which have disappeared somewhere into the clothing black hole.)

Though snowboarders, lacking poles, can get into trouble in the flats, they're sometimes better off in the lift line without them. On skis, you're pretty much at the mercy of your poles to get you up to the starting line. But if the snow near the lift is as hard as ice--as it was today--poles may not be as helpful as a free foot that the snowboarder uses to skate with.

Ice skating and Skiing
So how did I do skiing? It was a bit rough. For the first half of my 90 minutes, my preferred method of starting a turn was to go back to the wedge. Only later did I start moving towards making direct-to-parallel turns.

The experience made me think that skating (ice, in-line, or otherwise) is good practice for skiing. Of course, it doesn't help at all with snowboarding.

Anyway, after I was done, I called the shop. My board is ready. Next time out, it's back to snowboarding for most of the season. But regardless of what equipment is on my feet, it's great to be on the snow.

Snowboarder, Skier Agree: Let Mad River Stay Snowboard-Free

You've probably heard that Taos opened up its terrain to snowboarders during the last few weeks of the 2007-08 season. The reaction was remarkable, with an unfortunate display of immaturity, animosity and ignorance among both skiers and riders. Within a day or two of the management of Taos making its announcement, the site was flooded with comments--100 pages in Microsoft Word, 12 point Times-Roman.

I've been meaning to say more about this topic, and was recently reminded of it when I spent some time with ski and snowboard journalists and industry professionals, including Eric Friedman, the marketing director of Mad River Glen, New Hampshire.

One afternoon, I was part of a group of five, three skiers and two riders, roaming around Cannon Mountain, Vermont. A few times the riders would get into challenging terrain--by which I mean almost entirely flat. Depending on how much speed I carried into the flat--itself a function of the terrain preceding it and how I handled it, whether I'm with a group of people or solo and other factors--I can slide through it with no problem or a few problems. (Sometimes I have to give up and walk.)

As the five of us were traversing one of the flats, Eric extended his ski pole to each of the riders, offering to pull one or both of us along until we had gained enough speed.

It turns out that neither of us riders required the use of the pole, but I loved the comment Eric made in a light-hearted moment: "Don't say that I've never helped snowboarders."

For the record, Mad River Glen and anyone else who wants a skier-only (or snowboarder-only) "ski" area should be free to do so. MRG is a co-op, not a profit-seeking organization, and as such isn't going to put profit above principle. I expect it to ban snowboards indefinitely, which is just fine.

Snowboarders who are adults should, among all riders, be most sympathetic to the right of an organization to decide how it wants to run itself. After all, we've been around long enough to know that you can't--and shouldn't--go through life expecting that everyone will cater to your whims. Riders, not being able to take your snowboard to 3 lift-served terrains out of 500 or so isn't going to ruin your life.

Back on Skis for a Day

This season I've taken the cross-country skis out a few times, to a neighborhood park and the playground of a nearby school. The sensation of gliding on the skis is quite different from that gained by sliding on a board. I made just enough very small turns along the way to remember that making turns on skis is different, too. So how, I wondered, would I do back on downhill skis?

We're coming near the end of the season here in the Midwest, and I've felt the need to mix things up a bit. Call it the Colorado comedown. In February I took my board out to mountains with a vertical drop of 2,000 or 3,000 feet. Now that I'm back home my terrain has 300 vertical feet and I'm looking for a way to make it look more interesting. Oddly enough the desire to spice things up is one reason I started snowboarding a few years ago. So maybe it was time to complete the circle and try a little downhill ski action.

One powerful way to learn anything is to make comparisons. Maybe it was time to advance my snowboarding knowledge by putting in some time on skis. Compare and contrast, you know.

So I pulled the ski boot bag off the shelf in the basement, where it has remained untouched since February, 2005. I was pleasantly surprised at how easily I could put on my ski boots, and I wore them about the house for an hour or so.

A few days later I decided it was time to bring the skis out of the office closet, where they've been standing, unused.

When the appointed day came, I gathered my stuff. Getting everything out to the car was a bit of a struggle. Skis are heavier than any snowboard, and the boots are heavier, too. Then you've got poles to deal with, too, leading to some clutter in the hands.

But I got everything into the car just fine and drove to a local hill. Once there, I was able to get my boots on without any trouble, step into the bindings, and start skiing.

So what was it like?

The experience was both more pleasant and a bit more awkward than I had anticipated. It was more pleasant in this way: I had no foot pain, much unlike the last time I was on skis. Then again, the last time was on 2-mile runs out west, not the 45-seconds-and-you're-done trips we have here. So there would probably be some adjustment for my feet--a toughening-up time--if I spent a lot of time on skis again.

I started out on the bunny hill, since I wanted plenty of room to play with the skis before diving into something steeper. Getting on to and off of the chair lift was no problem. But once I started heading down the hill, uncertainty crept in.

How do I turn? I'm doing the splits! One foot is turning this way, but my other foot wants to go another!

When skiers start snowboarding, they sometimes feel uncomfortable with the fact that the feet don't move independently of each other. Now I was feeling uncomfortable with the fact that on skis, they can.

It didn't take long, though, for me to start moving my feet into something resembling parallel turns. I'm sure that my form wasn't ideal, and I slowed down more than I wanted to. But I was skiing, and even started making some short-radius turns.

There are still more conclusions to draw from the day, but here's one immediate one: Each season I should spend a day or two back on skis. I don't want to relive those first awkward runs. Besides, "compare and contrast" isn't just for college and graduate school exams; it's a way to learn and appreciate the different qualities of all that is good.

Mixing it Up on Cross-Country Skis

Early spring can be a good time to break out the cross-country skis. There's a "been there, done that" feeling to the hills that I call my "mountain home." And driving to the gym for a workout loses some of its appeal when the sun is out and the temperature has warmed up a bit.

So over the last few weeks I've taken old the old skinny skis. They're so old that nobody makes those kind of bindings anymore. But I do like the fact that they're easy to get into and out of--easier than some of the new bindings that I tried one day last season. The cross-country boots aren't necessarily more comfortable than snowboard boots, but they're even easier to don, since they are glorified shoes, though with not as much padding in the soles.

But those skis. Oh my. They're fine for straight glides on flat terrain, though they're probably quite slow. Still, sliding down a slight hill can give me a sense of not-being-in-control. Unlike a snowboard, skis allow (and sometimes seem to force) you into doing a version of the splits. Time to get back to the gym and hit that adductor machine! I could feel that I had been working my inner thighs with some of those desperation snowplow moves.

A second adjustment of stepping off the snowboard is that the skis are so much longer. Downhill skiers have adopted the parabolic shape of the snowboard, but cross-country skis--or at least the relics I am using--are straight, and long.

I never learned how to make turns on straight skis, so the length of the skis leaves me in an awkward state. Granted, the "turns" I am making on the cross-country skis are barely noticeable on downhill skis. But then again, these aren't downhill skis. There are no edges!

So taking out the cross-country skis almost--though not quite--brings back the delight and frustration of being a newbie, and the question of what the experience of downhill skis would be like after being exclusively on a snowboard for four seasons.

More on that later ....

Adult Snowboarders in the News

One of my favorite types of news articles are the ones about adult snowboarders. They have this "Holy Cow! Can you believe that?" quality to them.

I'll grant that it's a rather old story now, as adults have been snowboarding for years now. Then again, you'll always find stories telling you that winter is here and guess what, there's an outbreak of the flu. In both cases, old news can be informative (get that shot! give snowboarding a try!), and at least with snowboarding, it can make the winter go (too) quickly.

The latest publication to catch on to the grays on trays phenomenon is Crains Detroit Business. It features Patrick Becker (age 40); Greg Flowers (42); Brad Hynes (44); and Oliver Dixon (42). These men are no slackers, working (respectively) as a vice president of sales and marketing; an automotive designer; a vice president of operations; and a marketing manager.

They've got some pretty good skills for grown-up riders. Becker is an experienced instructor; Hynes teachers a snowboarding team at a local high school; Dixon has participated in USASA competitions; and I suspect that Flowers is no slouch, either.

The story offers several benefits of snowboarding:

• Innovation is the spice of life;
  
• It's a resume boost [really?];
  
• A thrill of competition;
  
• A rush from big air [sorry, I can't relate];
  
• Joy of playing in the snow;
  
• Families can enjoy it together;
  
• The equipment is lighter (no back strain!);
  
• There are plenty of opportunities to try something new;
  
• A community of people with a shared passion.

So dads, moms, and just anyone 30 and up, if you haven't tried snowboarding but find it interesting, find a snow sports school and take a lesson or three. (You might benefit a lot from getting a private lesson from another adult.) It may be one of the best purchases you've ever made.

Where's the Love for Snowboarders?

I really don't care if any particular ski area company allows snowboarders on the slopes or not. On the other hand, if a resort is going to expect snowboarders as customers, it should accommodate their gear.

Recently I was at Lutsen, which has perhaps the finest lift-served terrain in the Midwest. It has a shuttle bus--an old school bus--that takes customers from the parking lot to the base area.

That's good. What could be better? Start with the outside. It has a rack for holding skis. And not snowboards. The slots are simply to narrow to hold a board, meaning that snowboarders must take the bus on board.


(The shuttle bus is like one of these, but it's painted red--and probably quite a bit older--and has a rack with slots for skis.)

My board is on the long side (162cm) but not outrageously so. But I had trouble maneuvering it through the narrow, relatively short door and up the steps. There's not much room between the seats, either--this is the kind of bus, after all, that transports children to school. The bindings on my board don't collapse, and they fell at just the "wrong" places on my body and against the back of the seat in front of me.

Not having a storage space for snowboards outside the bus affects everyone who takes the bus, not just snowboarders. Snowboarders, I suspect, must take some extra time to get themselves on and off the bus, which slows down loading and unloading for everyone else.

The solution? Put a second rack on the outside of the bus, one that is wide enough to fit boards.

Skier-Snowboard Feud

I just noticed it now, but the Wall Street Journal had its own article on Taos Ski Valley lifting its ban on snowboarders. The article makes it clear that the decision was a business one. No surprise there.

But with ski revenue sliding and offspring of even the most hard-core skiers gravitating to boards, skiers-only destinations find it hard to keep refusing. Skier and snowboarder visits dropped in the 2006-2007 season to a combined 55 million, from close to 59 million in 2005-2006, the national ski areas group says. Industry revenue of $4.9 billion in 2005-2006 was down slightly from the previous season, according to the group's latest data. ....

Alejandro Blake, events coordinator and a grandson of Ernie Blake, the resort's founder, says Taos Ski Valley has been weighing the change for seven years. Skiing clans who came to Taos for generations began writing letters to say they couldn't return because a child or a grandchild wanted to snowboard. Four years ago, the Blakes asked resort guests to rate the importance of the no-snowboards rule in their decision to visit, on a scale of one to five. For the past two years, more than half the respondents gave it a one, two or three -- indicating dwindling support. "It is a business at the end of the day," says Mr. Blake. "We weren't forced into this, but we needed to do it in order to grow."

Mr. Blake says the decision to eventually accommodate snowboarders was made two years ago, when the resort finalized plans for a major expansion of the base area. The resort decided to enlarge rental shops to handle snowboards, install snowboard-size racks outside and build more hotel rooms to house an expected 10% to 15% increase in visitors.

A successful business listens to its customers.

What I found most puzzling about the article was the state that "Relations between skiers and riders (as snowboarders are known) have never been chillier." The article offers no evidence, not even a quote from a disgruntled skier. If you read stories of the early days, you'll most likely conclude that today's relations are by comparison as warm as a spring day. In its current issue, "Pro Rider," the magazine of the American Association of Snowboard Instructors, features an interview with several veteran instructors. The stories they tell make it clear that times have changed.

Words I Can't Imagine Saying

There are several words and phrases that I can't imagine saying, when it comes to snow and mountains:

"Ski boots are so much nicer than snowboard boots."

If there's any one thing that makes me hesitate at the thought of getting on skis again, it's getting in ski boots again.

"I like the extra-sturdy weight of skis."

There's another thing that makes me hesitate about getting on skis again: their weight. Carrying a snowboard is so much easier than carrying skis, and poles.

And did I mention that walking in snowboard boots is much easier than walking in ski boots?

“We skied three days hard, so we took a break and didn’t ski yesterday.”

I heard this comment once this winter. I could understand it--the person who said this was about 60 and thus likely had plenty of opportunities for on-mountain activity. But for me, there are too few big-mountain days. If I'm physically able to get out there, I will be there.

NASJA #1: How Many Snowboarding Journalists?

I'm at Crested Butte this week for the annual meeting of the North American Snowsports Journalists Association, which is "a professional group of more than 300 writers, authors, photographers, filmmakers and broadcasters who report ski- and snowboard-related news, information and features throughout the United States, Canada and Mexico, via the various media."

NASJA started out as the United States Ski Writers Association. The name change to "North American" reflects the fact that the group's membership extends beyond the USA. And of course "snowsports" is a nod towards that fact that snowboarding is an integral part of winter mountain sports.

Still, in my limited experience in the organization, I have yet to met a fellow snowboarder. Now, I have met several members who have given snowboarding a try, but they've all gone back to skiing.

I wonder how many snowboarders I will meet this week.

Are We All Skiers Now?

A basic point of many studies in sociology is that groups of people go to great lengths to define themselves. Often this means making up or exaggerating differences with another group. So Group A goes to great lengths to define itself as being different from Group B. This is true even when the group speaks the same language, practices (by and large) the same religion, and so forth.

We see this phenomenon played out in the long-running theme of "skiers versus snowboarders."

Some snowboarding folks have invested a great deal of energy in defining themselves in opposition to skiers. "We're NOT skiers," they insist. They chafe under the fact that in the Winter Olympics, snowboarding is a discipline within the umbrella of skiing. The International Olympic Committee decided to let the FIS (the international ski federation) decide who enters the games as a snowboarder.

I imagine that there is also a dispute within the U.S. Olympic bureaucracy over the distribution of training funds between the snowboarders and the skiers.

So what is the response of an ordinary guy who simply likes to ride, and talk about it?

When I take my gear out to the mountain, what am I'm doing? Am I "going snowboarding" or "going skiing?" Or should I comply with the snowboarding language police, and say that I will be "riding?"

What about my destination, that place with chair lifts, groomed trails, bumps, lodges, and the like? Are they "ski areas?" Or perhaps, in the spirit of inclusion, "ski and snowboard areas?" The latter approach is as clumsy as the "he or she" formulation that sometimes appears in attempts at gender-neutral language.

Here's another question. Since some of these places seem to have more folks on snowboards than skis, are they actually "snowboard areas?"

Face it, the term "ski and snowboard area" is ungainly. Even worse would be "ski, snowboard, and tubing areas." Some "ski" areas also offer rides on inner tubes, you know.

I'd say that most of the time, "ski" and its variants is good enough. If someone says "are you going skiing this weekend," I don't get indignant. Sometimes the person knows that I'm on a snowboard these days, but they resort to "ski" out of convenience. If they don't know that, I may something like "yes, but I'll be taking my snowboard." I do that to introduce the idea that yes, grown-ups can ride.

I first was a skier for several years before I took up the snowboard, so that's one reason why the "ski versus snowboard" controversy has all the reality of "professional wrestling" to me. But the reasons to be say "ski" or "ski area" have more to do with ease of communication than anything else.

Ski is one syllable. Snowboard is two syllables. Skiing is two syllables; snowboarding is three.

The term that some folks prefer to describe what happens on a snowboard--riding--is as long as the word skiing, and thus has no advantage in the ease-of-use category. Again, it comes back to that need to be different. Eh, if you wish.

Now there's one time where the distinction makes a difference, when precision is important, and that's when you are talking about techniques. In skiing, you make parallel turns. In telemark skiing, you have a free heel. In snowboarding, you alternate between heel and toe edge. And so forth.

Whatever you call it, go out and do it while winter is on.