BB, Jake Fine, Jez, Chuntz, Jon Swystun, d-fed and NEIL YOUNG with a few tricks in the remodeled whistler park.
Whis Park 2 from FOOTYFIEND.com on Vimeo.
Check out more at http://vimeo.com/footyfiend
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Terje and Blauvelt. Deep, deep BC pow. Watch it.
“Tracking Eero” Terje & Jake BC Action Webisode from OAKLEY on Vimeo.
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One of the most original events in snowboarding and art is coming to Portland. I AM SNOWBOARDING, a collaborative art project in honor of Jeff Anderson, opens at the NEMO gallery (1875 SE Belmont), on Friday, January 8. The opening party is slated from 6-10pm and will feature collaborative art from snowboard photographers and artists, music from Kandi Coded and DJ Joelskool, raffles from the sponsors (Volcom, Vans, Lib Tech, etc.) and if that wasn’t enough, Terry Kidwell will be on hand showing off some of his original snowboards soon to be put up for auction.
If you can’t make the opening night party, the artwork will still be on display until Jan. 31 to peruse at your leisure. For more information and to buy prints to benefit the Jeff L. Anderson Memorial Fund and The Brothers Skate Park, visit iamjla.org.
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Some of my favorite days this season have been in less than waist deep pow. The key ingredient: good friends. Whether it’s weaving soul turns or watching a buddy maneuver through turtle back moguls – nothing can replace the hoots and hollers of mutual stoke. James Lawley, Dylan Warnberg, Corey Warren and myself found ourselves with a full tank of gas and a Christmas Day wish to ride whatever Stevens Pass had to offer.
With a slight temperature inversion the top of the chair ride was sunny and clear, and we could even see Mt. Baker to the north. About a third of the way down we dove into Cascade soup light and had to rely on our powder senses to find the mini stashes.
It was definitely chilly and by the time we took lunch I think we all could have gone home. But there was something special in the lodge that day – whole families just being there. Moms knitting, transported Christmas feasts, an avid guitar player, and benign holiday chaos. We were thoroughly warmed and went back out to celebrate.
My only way to make up for not wearing corduroy is by turning on it, and Stevens Pass has some of the kindest signage of anywhere I’ve been. Thank you Chris Rudolph for one of best Christmas days ever!
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Shoreline of Tahoe is now home to Full Tilt Ski Boots, Check them out onlne or stop by either South Lake Tahoe Location.
Whistler, BC (December 23, 2009) – Have you ever heard of international snowboarding day? I hadn’t, until last week when I received a few emails about the winter solstice being the Official International Snowboarding Day, or something along those lines. I guess someone figured that skateboarders did it on the summer solstice, so why not snowboarders? Any reason to go ride is a good one for me and I happened to be driving into an oncoming storm on the Sea to Sky Highway—perfect timing.
Winter had returned full force to the slopes of Whistler-Blackcomb and conditions could not have been more appropriate—a foot of heavy fresh mid-mountain made for good pillow-popping snow and when Harmony Chair opened up high on Whistler Mountain, whiteouts and wind gave way to waist deep lines into the trees. In the spirit of the day, we rode first to last chair in the storm, including a couple top-to-bottom-leg-burners from the roundhouse down to Creekside. Indeed, International Snowboarding Day couldn’t have come on a better day. Let’s raise a glass to winter, who has blessed us with her presence once again.
Rider: Zeke Helliwell
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It’s difficult to describe in words Jason’s and my experience in the Olympic Mountains. During our seven-day journey, we hiked, skinned, and climbed through unfrequented terrain near Mt. Olympus. Terrain, that had, at that point, been (as far as we know) completely untouched by the ski- or snowboard-mountaineer. Snapping photos of and skiing down peaks in the area had been a lifelong dream of Jason Hummel’s, and I was eager to explore that area as well. So, with little more than a topographical map and a few outdated pictures to guide us, we set off on what would be a journey of a lifetime.
Our intention was to set up base camp near Mt. Olympus, and summit it, as well as venture south, to the seldom-accessed Valhallas Mountains. We’d been inspired to christen the area with a couple of sets of first tracks. Our 100 lbs of food, gear and photography equipment packed, and the weather window found (NOAA predicted a seven-day stretch of potentially sunny skies), we commenced hiking toward our intended basecamp.
Eighteen miles through rain forest on the first day, and a graduated ascent of the blue glacier on the second, deposited us at an abandoned research station on Panic Peak– the only non-glaciated, flat terrain within miles. From here, we hoped to access untamed terrain and remote descents.
Skinning up the Blue Glacier with Olympus in the Background
Our big objective for the trip was to tackle a region known as the Valhallas, a remote area southwest of Mt. Olympus. On our first day, we had had a partial view of this unique area, which revealed that we’d have to cross seven miles of ice cliffs, cliffs, waterfalls, canyons, gullies, and rivers along the way. We quickly concluded that clear weather would be absolutely necessary. Day after day we awoke at basecamp to see clouds surrounding us. So, instead of attempting to head out to the Valhallus, we tried to take advantage of the terrain nearby; there were first descents waiting to be taken all over the place.
The Valhallas from our Vantage Point
On our first day from basecamp, we focused on Olympus’s west summit (summit proper) and the east summit as well. The west summit involved some gnarly 5th class climbing, where a fall from the exposed south face would have been fatal, and was not skiable from the top, so we descended via skis and snowboard from the east summit on that day as well. Despite its more hospitable terrain for ski descents, the terrain on the middle summit was gnarly as well. Exposure to cliffs and gaping crevasses with every turn dictated a careful descent. As the day wore on, the clouds rolled in and visibility became an increasing concern. Hastily riding back to camp, we arrived to watch a picturesque sunset over the cloud-covered Pacific Ocean.
Descending the Five Fingers on our way to Olympus’s middle Summit.
Decending the Middle summit of Olympus
Riding down the steep face of the Middle Summit.
On the next day at camp, our hearts sunk when we opened the tent door to find that the weather had deteriorated still further. Our hopes of reaching the Valhallas were slowly diminishing. We tossed ideas around as to how to spend our day and eventually opted to check out the terrain around the Hoh Glacier and possibly climb Athena, a high point in this unfrequented area, and one of Olympus’s five summits. As we climbed up its steep face, we were greeted by thickening clouds. Up on the summit itself, visibility was no more than 10 feet. It was nerve-racking to descend between crevasses and cause a wet slide with every turn. We were forced into survival mode as we navigated the whiteout for miles on our way back to basecamp.
Dropping Athena in zero visability
By the third day, we’d stopped hoping for good weather, but lo and behold, clear skies greeted us from above. Giddy and psyched, we threw together our gear and were quickly on our way toward the Valhallas. Our first descent was down the South face of Mt. Olympus, where we carefully navigated through ice-cliffs and a nasty 100-ft waterfall before reaching the gateway to the Valhallas– the south fork of the Hoh River. We followed the river downstream until arrival at a snow-filled gully, which we believed would grant us access to the coveted terrain for which we’d come. But things were not as simple as they seemed. Once in the highlands, we found that an impassible rock cliff separated us from the base of the Valhallas. So, we down-climbed the steep, snowless face until once again we were on snow and a mere thousand feet from the base of the Valhallas. It was getting close to our turn around time, but we were within shouting distance of the area for which we’d come. We quickly moved towards the base of the peaks as the weather deteriorated rapidly. In no time, we found ourselves climbing the steep, open face of Hugin, in a complete white-out.
Dropping the South face of Olympus with the Valhallas in the distance
bypassing a Ice cliff on the south face of Olympus
Jason looking across at the Valhallas now covered in clouds.
Our summit celebration was no more than 5 minutes, since visibility was poor. We hastily made our descent down the featureless terrain. Though we were exhausted, we had no choice but to push forward for the 7-mile return trip. Moving one step at a time, we only exchanged the most archaic communications. We knew all too well that we wouldn’t make it back to camp until after dark. But, once we reached the southern face of Olympus, we were greeted with some of the most amazing alpenglow I’ve ever experienced. We were humbled by the light glowing on the Valhallas as we cramponed up the steep icy face, one excruciating kick step at a time.
Riding below the clouds on the lower apron of Hugin.
A quick moment to celebrate our victory.
Heading back up the South fork of the Hoh river exhausted with miles still to go.
By the time we’d reached the low saddle of Olympus, it was dark, and we had a 700 foot descent back to our base camp, through the crevasse-filled Blue Glacier. It was a clear night, and to our surprise, moonlight completely illuminated our route through some wild terrain. When we finally arrived back at camp, we hooted and hollered, celebrating our achievement before falling to our knees in exhaustion. The next day, we would depart the area.
For reference, according a climbing guide book we had referenced, summer excursions should budget two days for travel from Mt. Olympus to the Valhalas. We had done the round-trip in one.
For a more detailed account click here
Special thanks to Jason Hummel who’s photos can be found here
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As each day passes, I get closer to being completely submersed in my winter wonderland fantasy. The long hours photographing scared and violently shaking teacup Chihuahuas, and elderly women’s dogs with wretched enough gas to make my eyes water are starting to seem less painful. I sit and dream of the complete freedom a vast expanse of fresh snow and clean mountain air will deliver as I try not to lose sanity at my current position of Dog Photographer at Petcos along the California coast on weekends. While chasing runaway Shih Tzu’s through the aisles and wrestling drooling, bleeding eighty pound Labradors onto my backdrop. It is a necessary reality to see how rough it could be, which reminds me how lucky I am to be a snowboarder. And selling photos to women well-doused in patchouli while their 10-pound French bulldog star-kisses my pant leg is a quick reminder. But on the plus side, the job has given me opportunity to spend time with my lovely lady friend who is studying in Cali, while saving up some money to allow me another winter of freedom.
With my truck kitted for long nights and long drives, and no fixed address I am starting to wonder if maybe Gypsies know something the rest of the home body world is missing out on. So soon I will venture out into this winter-vagabond lifestyle to see just how far I can stretch a few dollars to turn them into face shots, priceless times with friends, and unknown adventure. To say I am frothing is a wee bit of an understatement. Given the very good early season snowfalls I have been hearing all about, and currently being trapped in a big box. I may just blow a little early and lose it on the hike during my first day out. Hopefully not though, ha-ha.
So what’s the point of all of this? Let’s just say I really cannot wait to see you all out on the slopes. Until then, if you are lucky enough, go board!
Photo: Jess Genter momentarily lost in his own winter wonder.
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The past couple storms have filled in the mountain enough to ride most all of the terrain at Whitefish Mountain Resort. These first few weeks of powder are always my favorite because the un-opened areas stay primo all day long…..We never duck ropes though!
The trees are filling in nicely and early seson senders are being sent!!
I ain’t afraid of no ghost!! Snowghosts (very common to Whitefish Mountain) are starting to form in the upper reaches of the mountain. Here I am practicing some “ghostbusting” on some adolescent snowghosts.
Early seaon coverage reveals beargrass, stumps and of course rocks, so beware of bumps in your landing zone. I stomped a stump out on this little sender on Schmidt’s Chute.
Whitefish Mountain Resort is an all-around great time. From some of the country’s longest groomer runs, to the steep tree glades that hold powder weeks after a storm, there’s no better place for a long day of shredding with friends. If you make it out here, get a hold of my mom Pam, or hit her up on Facebook, she loves to house and feed ravioli to any and all snowboarders.
www.whitefishmountainresort.com
all photos by: www.jacobeubankphotography.com
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