Close Calls

I haven’t posted in quite a while, mainly due to the fact that I no longer have a functioning camera and I feel that posts without relative pictures associated are just plain boring, but anyway…..
I had a rather eventful weekend in terms of close calls. Finally a couple of storm systems have moved into northern CA bringing feet of snow to the higher elevations. I wanted to go to Salt Lake City this weekend to meet up with my Uncle and cousin for some dead prez. day skiing, but due to the severity of the storm system, I only made it as far east as Sugar Bowl on Friday. Nick and I skied the majority of the day Friday, enjoying 18+ inches of fresh, dry, steep and deep powder all day. In a hurry to leave GV Friday morning, I forgot my helmet at home. Because the powder was soo good, nick and I spent the day hucking cliffs and rocks all day at Sugar Bowl. Enter close call numbers 1 thru 100 – let’s face it, I’m not that great of a free ride skier yet so, needless to say, helmetless cliff dropping can get a little sketch.

We returned home Friday night without too much damage inflicted to anything other than P-tex. After a nice Pizza dinner, everyone settled down for the evening around 7:00. Abdul left to run some errands and I remained curled up on the couch nursing my shredded quads. From 7 to 11 I stayed on the couch in and out of consciousness. Around midnight Abdul returned only to find the house reeking of natural gas, Nick and Yung fast asleep, and myself passed out on the couch. Apparently, one of us left the front burner of the gas stovetop on hi all night without a flame lit. The house was quite literally ready to blow and I was far off in never never land, fast asleep, or passed out, I’m not sure which. Close Call Number 101.

Since I passed out Friday night, I was unable to make any phone calls to any buds with 4WD vehicles, and Saturday was rumored to be the best powder day of 09 thus far. So, like an idiot, I decided to drive to the mountain in my 2WD Chevy Malibu with very bald tires. I started the trip with two cable-style chains securely fastened around the two drive tires. I made it about 10 miles before the driver’s side chain wore itself loose and flung free. Somehow, and I’m not sure how, this occurred without any damage to the car’s body, amazing! Close Call Number 102.

I finally made it to Alpine Meadows to meet up with friends Sam and Jennifer. The powder was exceptionally deep and took a little getting used to. But after a couple head plants, I got the feel for it and it was time to hit the steep and deep. Sam and I were skiing off of Scott’s Chair, a slow double that services advanced terrain in an area on the mountain known for sustained high angle runs, untouched forests, and numerous cliffs. Sam and I had the plan on one particular run to ski the steep just before this cliff, scope out the cliff, then decide to either go for it, or ski around once we got there. Sam went first. Like a jet-eyed knight, he powered his Rossy 193 free rides through the steeps to the edge of the cliff in world cup fashion. Next it was my turn. I dropped in and lowered to my left knee to make my first left turn. Classically, I over rotated and washed out my tails. In a last ditch effort to retain control, I threw my weight forward to get back on top. In doing so, I drove my right ski deep into some fresh and I went ass-over-tea-kettle on to my stomach and began a 100 ft. free slide down to the cliffs edge, head first. I managed to get my skis back underneath me during the slide so that I’m sliding towards the edge on my stomach, looking up the hill, with my skis running uphill underneath me. This sliding position stops me RIGHT at the cliff’s edge as my skis careen over the rocks and dangle from my boots 15 feet above the rocky landing. I laid there on the brink of doom for what seemed like 5 hours, clawing at the snow, struggling to regain control and save my ass from the fall that was sure to come. Despite my best efforts, the snow was just too loose and I never achieve an adequate hold. I slid over the edge on my stomach and fell backwards to my ass where I landed on an assortment of rocks partially covered by snow. I slid for a few more feet where I finally can to a rest against a strategically located pine tree. Sam skied down to me, helped me gather my head, and I slowly skied the rest of the way down feeling like I had just gotten raped by the Sierra Nevada. Close Call Number 103. The damage: an unusual gate to the coffee pot this morning, a couple of wild-MLB-fast-pitch style bruises on my left ass cheek, and a core-scratch in the P-tex of the new K2 Hippy Stix. I really wish I had a picture of that cliff….

So, no pictures or exciting new places to report, just a few close-call stories. Until next time.