89 Search Results for "sweetgrass"

• So, You Want To Go To A Backco So, You Want To Go To A Backcountry Lodge In BC, Eh?

  • From: jeremybenson
  • Description:

    If you were at a lodge in BC, you would be crushing it.
    
    “All you focus on is waking up, skiing all day and getting ready to do it again the next day,” says James Heim, “With the skiing being so close to the lodge you literally roll out the door and can be skiing amazing lines in no time.” Heim, a BC resident and star of numerous films by MSP and Sherpa’s Cinema, has been on three film trips and numerous personal trips to backcountry lodges around BC. Matchstick Productions has filmed several segments at Golden Alpine Holidays’ Meadow Lodge with the likes of Heim, Eric Hjorleifson, and Mark Abma. Other film companies have followed suit, Candide Thovex and Sweetgrass Productions both made trips to Icefall Lodge to film last winter. Filming at a backcountry lodge is great because, “The whole crew is already out in the mountains and so close to great filming terrain,” says Heim, “You can't get caught up in day to day life, instead you focus solely on getting out there and shooting.”
    
    Sure, backcountry lodges are a great place to film a sick segment, but they are an equally great place to go shred with your friends for exactly the same reason. Here’s the basic idea: Get a group of like-minded friends together and rent a lodge for a week. Jump in a helicopter, get dropped off at the lodge. Wake up, eat, go skiing, eat, go skiing, eat, sauna, drink beer, sleep, repeat for one week (in roughly that order). Stephane Reindeau, a Revelstoke resident and owner of Tough Guy Productions, has spent time at various lodges around BC and says, “The backcountry lodge environment allows you to enjoy gourmet cuisine and fine camaraderie, in the middle of beautiful mountains, and the powder skiing is unparalleled. This is the dream, and the experience is unprecedented.” That’s weird, I’m pretty sure I’ve had that same dream…
    
    Look, it's BC powder!
    
    The Canadian Province of British Columbia is home to some of the most dramatic and remote mountains in North America. In addition to countless cat and heli-skiing operations, BC is home to roughly 30 commercial backcountry lodges. Backcountry lodges have played a part in BC’s rich mountain history and they continue to evolve with our modern backcountry skiing boom. From the Coast Range to the Rockies, there are lodges and huts littered throughout western Canada’s mountains.
    
    The Backcountry Lodges of British Columbia Association’s (BLBCA) website lists 27 commercial lodges that offer skiing. Most are privately owned and operated while the Alpine Club of Canada (ACC) manages some. Countless other hike-to or sled-to lodges exist throughout the mountains of BC, but that’s another story entirely. Generally situated at or near treeline, these lodges provide an ideal base for mountain exploration. When it’s storming you can ski the trees and lower elevation terrain around the lodge. If it’s clear you can head up high and access alpine peaks, chutes, and glaciers. Most lodges are so remote that they are accessed exclusively by helicopter. Icefall Lodge, for example, is a 20-minute heli-ride away from the nearest heli-staging near Golden, BC. Twenty minutes in a helicopter is a damn long time, prohibitively far to walk, so you can rest assured that no one else will be out in your zone.
    
    The Icefall Lodge in British Columbia.
    
    Larry Dolecki, owner and head-guide of Icefall, started his lodge because, “there is so much terrain in BC, but you are limited by road access. The helicopter gets you out there, then there is no one else around.” With groups ranging between 12-16 people, depending on the lodge, there is plenty of snow and terrain for everyone. “You show up and ski right out the door, no driving, no racing for first tracks,” says Dolecki, “Atmosphere is a big reason lodges are becoming more popular, sharing powder with a group of friends.”
    
    Lodges are typically rustic, they are located in the middle of nowhere after all, but they do offer many of the creature comforts we’ve all become used to. Electricity is standard at pretty much every backcountry lodge, and in BC style this is usually from some sort of “green” energy source. Most lodges use hydroelectric or solar power to charge their batteries and when all else fails, they have a gas powered back-up generator. Wood stoves provide heat for the living areas and drying out skins, boots, and other soggy ski gear. Some lodges also feature a designated drying room where all the stinky ski gear can dry by propane heat and fester in its’ own stench. A few modern backcountry lodges have indoor toilets, but many still utilize the good ol’ frosty outhouse. Most lodges pull their drinking water from nearby fresh water sources, many have holding tanks and running water, while others rely on human power to bring water in buckets, either way it’s some of the best tasting water you’ll ever have. Wood fired saunas are common, and when coupled with a watering-can hot shower is the perfect way to wind down after a long day hiking for face shots. Some lodges even have satellite internet so you can maintain your status and give your friends the F.O.M.O.
    
    You could be skiing powder in Canada right now.
    
    All lodges are different, but most offer both guided and self-guided skiing. Some lodges require you to have a guide, and with avalanche paths longer than most ski areas it can be nice to have someone with terrain familiarity showing you around. Guides are often included in the price, or they typically run around 300-400 bucks a day, when divided among a group ends up being pretty cheap to have someone break trail for you all week. Depending on your group’s level of backcountry savvy you may be able to opt for guiding yourselves, a slightly less expensive option.
    
    As for food, the full spectrum of options is generally available, from catered gourmet to do-it-yourself. I love eating mac-n-cheese and quesadillas all week with my bros, but having someone cook for you is undoubtedly easier and way better, albeit slightly more expensive. Waking up to hot coffee and breakfast, and coming home to soup and snacks before a delicious dinner everyday is worth a couple hundred bucks in my book. There are catering companies in BC who specialize in lodge trips and will prepare your week’s worth of food, boxed up and with recipes, to take with you on a self-catered trip to save you the hassle of figuring it out for yourself.
    
    Skinning with your friends is the best.
    
    Plan ahead, lodges tend to book out early nowadays, so making your reservation up to a year in advance may be necessary. In fact, a couple of the ACC lodges, like Fairy Meadows and Kokanee Galcier, are so popular that they work on a lottery program for reservations. Group leaders can usually book an entire lodge, then fill it with their favorite shredding partners. Booking the whole lodge is the most cost effective approach and brings the price per person down significantly. You can often book just part of the lodge, or help to fill a partially booked week, in which case you’ll be sharing with other folks who are there for the same reasons you are, so they’re probably pretty damn cool. Expect a catered and guided week to cost around $1,800-$2,200, far cheaper than a week of heli skiing, and arguably as much or more fun.
    
    If you’re planning a trip to a backcountry lodge in BC, here’s a few helpful tips. Canada is not part of the United States, you’ll need identification to enter, I suggest a passport. Flying to Canada is expensive, and getting around once you’ve landed can be a pain. I recommend driving whenever possible, this saves on airport transfers, car rentals, baggage fees, and you can bring groceries and a small amount of alcoholic beverages with you.
    
    Things are more expensive in Canada, so bring the maximum amount of alcohol allowed, a case of beer, or 3 bottles of wine, or a 750 ml of liquor per person, they will probably check at the border. If you’ve had a DUI in the last 5 years, don’t even try to cross the border.
    
    Bring earplugs, one loud snorer can keep you up all night, every night, and the better you sleep the harder you can charge.
    
    Avalanche training and experience traveling and skiing in avalanche terrain are a must; hire a guide if you are the least bit uncertain of your skills. Know your gear and how to use it. A backcountry lodge trip isn’t the right place to try out your new backcountry boots for the first time because, as James Heim says, “There’s nothing worse than being in an amazing location for a short time and spending most of that time either fixing your gear or practicing avalanche rescue when you could have done that before hand.”
    
    Do some online research or talk with friends who’ve been to a lodge to find the one that best suits your needs, there are lots of options. Lodge operators are extremely helpful for planning and can assist with finding guides, catering, and details like lodging before and after and your trip.
    
    My backcountry lodge experiences have resulted in the best ski trips that I’ve ever been on. The stress free environment, comfortable lodging, and access to incredible terrain are without equal. In my opinion, there isn’t a better a way to spend your money on skiing and spend time in the backcountry.
    
    A few helpful online resources:
    http://www.backcountrylodgesofbc.com
    http://www.alpineclubofcanada.ca
    
    Catering:
    http://www.mosmountaincuisine.com
    

    Going on a backcountry hut trip, be sure to load up on Avalanche Safety gear available at: backcountry.com

  • Blog post
  • 4 months ago
  • Views: 125
  • Not yet rated

• Under The Orange Glow Of Mount Under The Orange Glow Of Mount Etna

  • From: kimhavell
  • Description:

    Nick Waggoner skins up a volcano in Italy.
    
    Last winter, filmmakers Nick Waggoner and Zac Ramras, photographer Grant Gunderson, and Salomon freeskiers Elyse Saugstad and Kim Havell went to Italy on assignment for Salomon Freeski TV to shred Mount Etna. The episode is soon to drop. In the meantime, read the story below.
    
    The spray of liquid magma burst into the night sky. Mount Etna was erupting, as she does once roughly every two months, and we were skiing under the orange glow of her latest paroxysm.
    
    In early February 2012, a promising Italian snow forecast had us chasing a storm to Sicily, an island on the Mediterranean Sea. While much of the U.S. languished in a dry early winter Europe was being blasted by heavy snowfall and Italy was deep in the weather pattern. With a lofty goal of ski exploration on Sicily’s notorious active volcano, Etna, our team thought it best to aim for winter-like conditions.
    
    With the promise of powder, we booked tickets and landed two short days later in the coastal Sicilian city of Catania. Geographically, Sicily is the soccer ball to Italy’s boot. Assembled at the airport, we had a vague plan of action. On assignment for Salomon Freeski TV, filmmakers Nick Waggoner and Zac Ramras, photographer Grant Gunderson, and Salomon freeskiers Elyse Saugstad and I loaded into a white minivan and drove out of the city and up towards the volcano.

    Reigning above numerous fragile, cozy old towns, Mount Etna basks in a sea breeze that wafts over its small, scattered cones, jagged igneous black-rock ridges, and wide, fluted flanks. Steep, rocky lines run down parts of her face along with miles of more benign terrain to descend. Topping out at almost 11,000 feet, Etna’s high position provides unobstructed views of the coastline, which blend seamlessly into the olive groves and vineyards dotting the landscape.
    
    The quaint Sicilian town of Nicolosi was our home for the next 10 days. From the lower vantage point we admired the mountain, scoped our dream lines, and we waited. Each morning we were greeted with unpredictable weather and the repercussions of an eruption that included turbulent cloud cover, and low visibility for skiing on her relatively blank, high-alpine expanse. Café-bound, we sipped our espressos, snacked on arranchinas (popular rice cones & balls served hot with a variety of inner ingredients) and waited for sunshine and clear windows to explore the vast terrain and the best ski lines on the active volcano.
    
    We quickly realized we had to accept Mount Etna at her best and her worst. She threw out strong winds, thick fog, serpent-like clouds, and serious eruptions. She rumbled, coughed, spit, and spewed volcanic bits, with lava flow and liquid magma sliding down her slopes. We inhaled and skied ash debris but also enjoyed a few short sunny, clear stretches with a steady refresh of white snow from the constant storm cycle.
    
    With slow access via an ancient gondola, creaky chairlifts, and struggling pomas, we got a gradual boost up 740 meters of hillside. Passionate locals joined us in gondola line each morning with their short carving skis and big smiles. Pouring out of the cabins, we warmed-up with the Sicilians on a few of the groomed options at one of Etna’s two ski resorts.
    
    Elyse Saugstad skis Mount Etna.
    
    After sampling the mellow in-bounds terrain, our team headed into the backcountry. Though there is easy access to ski tour and explore the many additional acres of more challenging off-resort offerings, there is absolute solitude. We had any line we chose all to ourselves.
    
    As we ventured across Etna’s broad landscape, we crossed high ridgelines that protected hidden valleys of rocky couloirs, mini-volcano cones, and small amphitheatres with mini-golf-like terrain. Dropping off one sastrugi-ridden ridge to the West, we skied wind-buffed corridors and then toured back up and skied corn back to the resort. Checking out the Volcano cones, we set a hard edge on each icy turn on the windward slopes and then skied packed powder on the leeward. Skiing into the craters was almost always soft as the sun reflected heat into the white belly of their inner bowls. We got a taste of everything.
    
    One evening as the setting sun cast luminous colors over the horizon and the volcano erupted behind us, Nick turned to us and asked, “Should we hike up and get some ski shots next to the lava?”
    
    Elyse and I looked at each other, then looked at Nick, and said, “No, thanks.”
    
    Though there were many cultural highlights we were there to ski. When the visibility was poor up high, due to Etna’s unusually deep snowpack during our visit, we were able to find good alternative options. We ducked into heavily wooded hillsides off the winding road up to the resort. From a skier perspective, the forests needed some pruning, but we found tight alleyways and fun, smooth powder skiing under the protected canopy of the towering trees.
    
    The tempestuous visit was a beautiful and healthy reminder that nature is very, very close. Etna was in charge and we were on her agenda. After ten days of patience, waiting, and unusual skiing adventures on Etna’s flanks, our U.S. team “Magma” was provided with a couple of lessons: don’t book a ticket to Etna for a storm and Sicily is beautiful but Etna can be a tricky beast.
    
    The sunset in Taormina, Italy.

  • Blog post
  • 4 months ago
  • Views: 152
  • Not yet rated

• Nick Waggoner of Sweetgrass Pr Nick Waggoner of Sweetgrass Productions

  • From: kimhavell
  • Description:
    Nick Waggoner of Sweetgrass Productions
  • 4 months ago
  • Views: 106
  • Not yet rated

• Interview: Hayden Price's Alta Interview: Hayden Price's Alta Life

  • From: brodyleven
  • Description:

    Hayden Price crushing in Alta. Photo by Adam Clark.
    
    Skiing around Alta with Hayden Price is like riding with the best skier you know, your best friend, and the best tour guide ever. Except he’s the guide skiing up to a cliff zone, throwing a huge 180 into pow, and only waiting for you because he wants to watch and give you a high five. You don't actually ski with Hayden at Alta as much as you follow him, graciously. The 26-year-old has had an Alta season pass for 24 seasons. He has a distinct style on skis—seemingly disinterested with passing trends, though invariably on the cutting edge. Hayden was the first skier I remember really watching—like, taking notes and emulating—when I moved to SLC seven years ago. He can't ski Alta without people following him, and you'd be intimidated by that fact if he weren’t the happiest, mellowest, and friendliest icon on the mountain. Everyone knows him and he knows the mountain from behind a set of powder-surfing eyes like none other. He's that popular local shredder at your little hometown hill…except he’s that guy at freaking Alta.
    
    
    
    

    BRODY: Hey dude. Where are you and what's been happening?
    
    HAYDEN: Hey Brody! I have been enjoying a better snow year here in Utah’s Wasatch mountains and am currently packing up my gear to head to Canada on a film trip.
    
    BRODY: Where did you grow up? How often did you ski?
    
    HAYDEN: I grew up at the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon. I skied mainly on the weekends.
    
    BRODY: Although you were frequently at Alta, your home was actually down Little Cottonwood Canyon’s Highway 210, in Salt Lake City. What differentiates you from a skier who has grown up living right in the Town of Alta?
    
    HAYDEN: Growing up in Salt Lake City was a true blessing. I had the oasis of Alta only a stone’s throw away and yet grew up in a metropolitan city. I believe this kept me open to the diversity that may not otherwise be found if I grew up in the bubble that is Alta. Seriously, it is a different world up there, and you feel it the moment you arrive.  SLC has a great music, art, and food scene that I really enjoy. Variety is the spice of life.
    
    BRODY: Speaking of variety, please describe your ski style and what influences it.
    
    HAYDEN: My style is a cornucopia. I spent years dedicated to the idea that I if I can ski it forward, I should be able to ski it backward. As that motivation evolved, I looked to other sports for inspiration because I felt skiing was a little dried up. I saw the way other action sports were using their apparatuses and wanted to emulate the moves they were doing on my skis. Skateboarding, snowboarding, surfing and mountain biking had a lot to offer my thirst for different skiing. Growing up at Alta, surrounded by loads of “classic” skiers, I strived to differentiate myself from the masses. I skied a whole season of resort riding without poles in hopes of cultivating a unique relationship with my edges and the way my skis flexed. Watching all the possibilities a skater has for doing tricks, I felt there must be more I can do on my skis. I am currently focused on butters, presses, scrapes and strange transitions. If there is snow, I’ll slide on it and find something that makes it interesting to me.
    
    BRODY: You ski huge cliffs, backcountry tours, park, natural jumps, and super deep pow. People don't understand what kind of equipment you use for such an array of pursuits. Do you have an arsenal of gear, or what? What is one piece of gear you couldn't live without?

    Hayden Price dropping into a line. Photo by Brody Leven.

    HAYDEN: I definitely have an arsenal. Skiing is so particular now that I choose my skis specifically for what I’m doing that day. I have a lightweight tech binding setup for long tours and soul pow turns, and multiple sidecountry setups consisting of Marker Dukes or Alpine Trekkers for hitting jumps and drops out of the resort. My inbounds bindings are Rossignol FKS. All of my skis are 110mm under foot or wider, and all have some type of rocker technology. I couldn’t live without my Full Tilt boots.
    
    BRODY: Surface employed your snow-snorkel expertise in designing a new ski. Please explain.
    
    HAYDEN: The Lab001. I look to other sports for inspiration not only for ski sliding techniques but also for the technologies they are using. The new Lab ski has a front-to-back “3 stage rocker” as well as “Deep Dish” technology. This idea comes from our desire to have a really surfy powder ski that has a catch-free feeling.  The “Deep Dish” is a left-to-right convexity on the base of the skis. Essentially, the ski is base-high by a few centimeters.  This really allows the ski to be tossed around at will and opens up the world of trickery in powder snow.
    
    BRODY: Do you film with anyone? Where can people see and follow you (besides as fast as they can at Alta)?
    
    HAYDEN: I filmed with Sweetgrass Productions last year in Nelson, BC. This season I have been focused on working with local [Little Cottonwood Canyon] boys, Dubsatch Collective. We have a great season lined up with some really fun ideas. Stay tuned, as webisodes are dropping frequently on dubsatch.com
    
    BRODY: Why Alta?
    
    HAYDEN: It is the birthplace of powder skiing. The quality and quantity of powder that falls at the end of Little Cottonwood Canyon is unmatched worldwide. You can’t beat the access, the people, and the terrain. Alta and the surrounding areas are pure magic!
    
    BRODY: Your skillset is not only strong but also uniquely diverse, how did it develop?
    
    HAYDEN: I watched my home hill heroes, like Sage, and wanted to do what they were doing while adding my own flavor to the mix. [As a teenager,] I would ride Chip’s Run at Snowbird with all of my snowboard homies, copying the style of tricks they were doing off the cat tracks and gaps. I ran a terrain park at Alta with my friend Jordan for a few years. We always pushed each other to do more creative tricks and to be able to do them in many ways and on different terrain. I am really into climbing and mountaineering, too. Combine the jib aspects and long distance pursuits for fresh snow and you get me, HP.
    
    BRODY: Who do you love to ski with? Do you like everyone following you?
    
    HAYDEN: I love to ski with friends and family. Skiing with any of the Dubsatch crew is always great and I don’t mind anyone following us around. Join in on the fun!
    Regardless of whether he grew up in the Town of Alta or twenty minutes down the road, Hayden is most at home on that mountain. His skillset reaches from one end of skiing’s spectrum to the other while being one of those skiers who you recognize through unique skiing style, not through his outerwear or the bottom half of his face in the liftline. Since that season seven years ago, when I first realized how capable he was in the mountains, I’ve watched Hayden’s mentorships and friendships develop within the Little Cottonwood Canyon ski community. Not only does everyone know HP, but they only have compliments to offer. Forthcoming video parts will finally expose HP to the world, showcasing his talents as not a park skier, backcountry skier or Alta skier, but as a mountain skier.
    
    Hayden Price on cover of Backcountry Magazine.

    Want to ski like Hayden, book your next Alta ski vacation online through http://mountainreservations.com
    

  • Blog post
  • 4 months ago
  • Views: 163
  • Not yet rated

• Through The Lens Of Jim Harris Through The Lens Of Jim Harris

  • From: kimhavell
  • Description:

    Chris Davenport skis a chute in Antarctica. Photo by Jim Harris.
    
    “Through The Lens” is a regular column on TetonGravity.com that highlights the work of a photographer in the ski and snowboard industries. The series exists to celebrate the photographers who bring us extraordinary imagery, to get to know who they are, and to understand their process.
    
    Jim Harris is a TGR success story. An athlete with an artistic eye and a photographer of great strength and perseverance, Jim hit the big time from an unlikely start. Through honest and thoughtful posts on the TGR web forums, Jim unwittingly developed a huge following and grabbed the attention of industry players. Proving himself time and time again in the field and at the computer, Jim has photographs, stories, and drawings featured across varied media spots, print and online, in the world of adventure sport. He is humble, adventurous, and bright, and gets things done.
    
    Jim has been behind the lens for Sweetgrass Productions, Powderwhore Productions, Camp4Collective, First Ascent, Powder Magazine and more. From scaling 20,000-foot peaks in Bolivia to descending steep couloirs in Antarctica to negotiating a pack raft down Alaskan rivers, this motivated talent keeps at it as he proves that with heart and hard work, success will be a reality.
    
    Jim’s sincere and straight-up approach resonates with his audiences. Follow his creative journeys as “GnarWhale” on TGR and as Perpetual Weekend online at his Blog, Facebook page, Instagram, and Twitter sites. www.perpetualweekend.com
    
    Forrest McCarthy melts water at a ridge line campsite as a storm rolls in. Photo by Jim Harris.
    
    The Start.
    
    I was first interested in photography when I was a kid playing with this all-metal Nikormat that my dad had brought back from Japan a decade or two before I was born. I didn’t develop a twitchy shutter button finger until I was around 16 and started documenting the graffiti scene where I grew up. Looking back at those boxes of prints, I was pretty much just mechanically recording ephemeral art. A few years later I extracted myself from that scene by moving to Montana where I enrolled in Wildlife Biology and Fine Art courses. The blend of planning, creativity, daring, and community that made the street art scene compelling also runs through mountain culture. It didn’t take but a few weeks in Montana before I began pointing my camera at people on mountains.
    
    Studying Wildlife Biology seemed like a good route to finding a job that combined adventure with critical thinking, plus I was good at plant and animal identification. An empirical science education has proved to be a good framework for learning about the world, even though I never took up wearing one of those flat-brim Smokey hats. The fine art courses were just for kicks, but I regret missing the memo that my university had a Photo Journalism school.
    
    Andrew McLean skis the Chugach Mountains in Alaska. Photo by Jim Harris.
    
    TGR.
    
    While I’d been registered on TetonGravity.com’s message board for years, I rarely visited until I moved to the Wasatch Mountains in 2007 and discovered it offered a way to meet backcountry touring partners. Then I began posting photos of ski tours and that led to invites on more missions. One of those photo essays prompted Gordy Peifer to offer me a spot on one of his Straightline Advenutures Ski Camps, and another trip report garnered an invite to shoot with Powderewhore Productions in Alaska. That AK trip, in turn, resulted in my first print-published words and photos (Powder Magazine 40.1 “Beast out of the Earth”). Then I won a TGR and Smith Optics photo contest where the prize was an Ice Axe Expeditions ski cruise to Antarctica.
    
    I was sharing just for the sake of sharing and that idealism struck a chord with people. If I suddenly couldn’t sell photos and stories about the sort of trips I like to take, I’d be okay going right back to doing them just for the intrinsic rewards.
    
    Hi-fives with Andrew McLean after discovering and skiing a rad chute in the Wrangell Mountains of Alaska. Photo by Jim Harris.
    
    Inspiration.
    
    Media-makers who also are high-performance athletes hold a role I admire. Photographers who can climb and ski alongside top athletes are the ones who, most often I think, bring back something insightful to share.
    
    Galen Rowell about tops my list of “photographers I wish had reincarnated as me.”
    
    Christian Pondella has crafted a career shooting photos with skis on his pack, an ice axe in one hand and that shines through in his photos.
    
    The Camp 4 Collective team brings boots-on-the-ledge perspective to their productions and it’s apparent in the art and illustrations of Renan Ozturk, Jeremy Collins and Adam Haynes.
    
    Leslie Anthony writes with legitimacy in his words and Fitz Cahall’s Dirtbag Diaries carry that too.
    
    What all of them have in common is this gonzo journalism approach where, because they can hang athletically, they’re able to convey a first-person narrative that offers candid, humanizing insights into the lives of super-human athletes.
    
    On the business side, I admire the people who help others to create content in our ski media ecosystem. When done well, enabling other peoples’ creativity is good for one’s own income. The TGR Forums empowered me and I hope the web ad revenue more than pays for the server space.
    
    Photographers Adam Barker and Chase Jarvis both open source some of their knowledge via web interviews and tutorials. They’re investing their knowledge in aspirant photographers while legitimizing their expertise at the same time. It’s both altruistic and shrewd.
    
    Sunrise on Illimani, Bolivia, while the city of La Paz still sleeps. Photo by Jim Harris.
    
    The Challenge.
    
    I want to be a really good storyteller. Sometimes when I speak, my thoughts branch into a tangent, then a tangent of that, until I’m caught in a spiraling fractal of storylines and everyone has stopped listening. So it takes some intention for me to spin a story well. Photo essays keep me on point and the narrative jogging along.
    
    At some heady level, wilderness adventure stories like the ones I want to tell are another variant of Joe Campbell’s monomyth: the hero marches off into the wild, conquers something untamable, perhaps then realizes that the real conquest happened inside his or her head, and then returns home to share the new wisdom.
    
    My challenge is that I don’t want to just tell those stories but want to actually watch them unfold too. Going up and down difficult mountains with interesting people carves as close to living that myth as I know how to get.
    
    Alan Schwer hops down a steep ski line at 19,000 feet on Volcan Pomarape, Bolivia. Photo by Jim Harris.
    
    The Business.
    
    The business-side of working as a self-employed creative is a murky learning curve. There’s no roadmap to “making it” and even things as dry as sending photos for an editor to review turn out to involve diplomatic maneuvering. Many working photographers will tell you that your photos are only valuable if you keep ‘em squirreled away, unseen by anyone but the editor, right until they appear in print. While I see the wisdom in that approach, the only reason I’m paid to take photos now is because I’ve enjoyed sharing pictures in the past. So, I’ve continued to post photos on TGR, though I’ve become more strategic about sharing.
    
    The ski photo world is a tough one to find recognition in, in part because much of it has fallen prey to this syndrome of collaborative competition where somebody says “Oh! Look at what they’re doing.  We should be doing that too.” Photo buyers, photo makers, and athletes all push one another to converge. One outcome is that photographers face an uphill battle when it comes to creating marketable work that also conveys individual style.
    
    On the other hand, who wants to feel like they’re leaving money on the table because they’re too elitist to take routine photos? Faced with that question, I’m no strict idealist. I’m not exactly shooting decorative cupcakes, but I’ve dug into commercial projects, studio opportunities, and jobs outside the ski industry. Sometimes they feel like art school assignments where students replicate some Old Master’s painting. Even if it’s not an approach that I’m particularly interested in, it’s impossible not to glean something useful. Those Elinchrom-lit sets are great for learning technique but they’re not where my aspirations lie.
    
    Tyler Jones leads a climb in the Waddington Range while Seth and Solveig Waterfall follow. Photo by Jim Harris.
    
    Being Diverse.
    
    When I was about ten I was way into these Redwall books about mice doing medieval things. My parents took me to a reading by the author, Brian Jacques, at the neighborhood bookstore and he described to us kids around him that he’d worked as a sailor, and a truck driver, and a milkman, and some jobs that I’ve forgotten before he eventually became a writer too. The notion that one could do a lot of things in a lifetime, rather than be stuck with just one profession, took root in my ten-year-old cortex that day.
    
    Photography has been my main focus for the last year or two, but it’s not my only outlet. I still dabble in woodcut printmaking, painting, shooting video, writing, and teaching. If this photo gig stops working out, I’ll always have the latitude to sidestep into one of these other roles.
    
    Solveig Waterfall skiing from the summit of Mt Waddington, BC over a cavernous crevasse. Photo by Jim Harris.
    
    Expedition Style.
    
    One thing that distinguishes me from the pack is that I like unstaged, one-take, expedition shooting. Long and difficult trips are full of little victories and disappointments and they make for great photographic moments. As a member of an expedition team, I share credit and blame for the ups and downs I’m chronicling. Every bit of the process from planning, traveling, climbing, skiing, cooking, laughing and just surviving together is rewarding.
    
    There are a couple big hurdles to being an expedition shooter. One is keeping one’s gear alive in the cold, wet, sandy, camera-killing places. That takes diligence but isn’t rocket surgery. Another is that one has to learn to suffer with grace. That takes practice and some balanced brain chemistry.
    
    The biggest hurdle, however, is managing the dual loyalties of being both a weight-pulling team member while also caring enough about one’s audience to stop helping your buddies and grab the camera. Jabbing a camera in someone’s face in a cruxy moment can be a bridge-burning move. It takes a pretty keen awareness of the group dynamic plus articulate communication to balance photographic and team needs.
    
    Before leaving for our first trip together, ski mountaineer Andrew McLean told me he was willing to ski for the camera but that he didn’t intend to re-hike anything for a missed shot. If you’ve skied with Andrew, you know that he zips uphill then right back down. Either I had to bully him into slowing down or learn to be quick on the draw, get the shot the first time, and not sulk when I misfired. I went with the second approach and haven’t regretted it.
    
    One-take shooting is an ethos I’ve embraced. Shooting actual skiing down actual lines, as opposed to the ubiquitous one-turn-wonder approach, feels truthy. As a bonus, there’s a lot more skiing involved in a “work” day.
    
    Chris Davenport skiing in Antarctica. Photo by Jim Harris.
    
    Turning Point.
    
    Three years ago, three friends and I spent a month backpacking and then rafting across Wrangell St Elias National Park. That trip changed my view of what’s achievable by a small, unsponsored team. I felt empowered by our success and humbled by the times I faltered.
    
    Back at home, I tried to summarize the story via a long column of captioned photos. The resulting trip report garnered a lot of attention that I never expected. Something about our mix of ambition, unique route, and amateur status really resonated with people, and not just the outdoorsy ones. Traffic poured in from Digg, Reddit and other link-sharing sites.
    
    Years later, I’m still feeling the reverberations of that trip. I’ve been back to the Wrangells once and have plans for another trip this year. I’m also packing today for a crazy Mexico adventure that I’ve been invited on because a couple of Alaska’s most-audacious wilderness travelers saw my photo essay and thought I’d be a good fit for their team. Looking back, it is comical how many doors have opened for me based on something that I never guessed would have much impact.
    
    Forrest McCarthy midway through a 120 mile traverse of the Abaroka Beartooth Mountains. Photo by Jim Harris.
    
    Future Direction.
    
    There’s been this recent uptick in the ski industry’s acknowledgment that what we do is risky. At a fundamental level, action sports culture pushes the idea that “advancing the sport” or “pushing the envelope” is the loftiest goal an athlete can strive for. I think that presumption deserves some scrutiny because it is steering our risk-taking. We’re not going to revert to blue-square level skiing in movies but it’s worth acknowledging that there are perhaps less death-defying ways to “advance the sport.”
    
    For me, that means looking for trips that are challenging because they’re remote, or because they require an endurance component, or because they offer a quirky perspective on the norm. Both writers and photographers search for unique angles. As someone with a growing grasp of both pursuits, I’m positioned to connect interesting story ideas with smart photos.
    
    Jim Harris' Powder Magazine cover photo. Skier unknown.
    
    Game Changers.
    
    A few years ago, I watched an acquaintance trigger and then swept by an avalanche. It was formative.  It changed how I communicate with partners, how I plan for a tour, and is a continual reminder to make conservative choices.
    
    Soon after that incident, I began teaching avalanche classes. Now that I’ve shifted to proselytizing wilderness skiing for a living, teaching the prophylactic aspect of it feels essential. Not only does it feel like righteous work but teaching avy classes also helps keep my skills honed.
    
    At the other end of the spectrum, one of my photos is running on the cover of the new Powder Magazine Photo Annual. For someone who’s only been making a living as a photographer for just over a year, it’s like putting boots on at 9:30 and somehow still catching first chair. That cover isn’t recognition I’d expected to have so soon in my photo career, but I’m grateful for it.
    
    Want to shoot like Jim, start with some high end DSLR camera gear available at Amazon.com

  • Blog post
  • 4 months ago
  • Views: 207
  • Not yet rated

• Video: Patagonia Riders Ryland Video: Patagonia Riders Ryland Bell, Josh Dirksen, Forrest Shearer, Alex Yoder VS Alaska

  • From: TetonGravityResearch
  • Description:

     

    Patagonia snowboard ambassadors Ryland Bell, Josh Dirksen, Forrest Shearer and Alex Yoder headed up to AK last spring and decided to ditch the crowds in Haines by doing a little bit of freeriding in Juneau, Alaska.  The Sweetgrass Productions crew was on hand to capture all the shredding for their upcoming 2013 feature film 'Valhalla'
    
    Ryland Bell showed the boys just how it is to grow up riding in AK, with 30 feet of accumulative snowfall during the winter he had this to say about the season “I have never seen the mountain like this at all, they are completely buried, probably 3 times as much snow as I have ever seen”.

    Patagonia 30% Off Sale at Backcountry.com

  • Blog post
  • 4 months ago
  • Views: 157
  • Not yet rated

• Norway: Shredding Fjords And F Norway: Shredding Fjords And Fjells With Molly Baker

  • From: brigidmander
  • Description:

    Molly Baker enjoys apres skiing on yachts in Norway.
    
    Words and photos by Brigid Mander.
    
    We put skins on in the drizzle on the side of the road, between the mountain and the fjord in Tromsø. Thick fog was above us; more than anything, I did not want to go skiing. There were no excuses, though — on a trip to Norway to ski with Molly Baker, we were going skiing.  
    
    Having seen the pictures and the edits and the movie segments over the last few years, we still didn’t know exactly what to expect when we first arrived in the Lyngen Alps. We were on our own program using topographic maps to find lines, climb mountains and ski. 
    
    If you lived in Tromsø, Norway, you'd ski that mountain after work. Five bucks if you know how to pronounce the ø in Tromsø. ... Alright, it sounds a lot like saying Tromso, except say it like you're getting punched in the stomach by a viking.
    
    Norway’s continued appearance in ski and snowboard media over the last few years highlights its powder, pillows, AK-style descents and universe of accessible big mountain lines jutting up from the fjords. Here, in the land of ski touring and 24-hour sunlight, we learned you get what you give.
    
    What you get might be the unexpected. A few hours after our rain soaked start, Molly and I were sitting in an apres-ski bar in Tromsø, relishing $12 beers 200 miles north of the Arctic circle, new friends, and were utterly stoked: our gamble in the rain turned out be a unforgettable descent in powder, under pink light at nearly 11 p.m.
    
    Skiing off summits around midnight is pretty standard in Norway.
    
    Of course, despite surging skier interest in the country, skiing is not so much a pastime in Norway as an intrinsic part of life and heritage — this is, after all, where people have been skiing for thousands of years and modern skiing originated. Every day we were blown away by the ski tracks slathered, up, down, all over so many peaks, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Luckily, there are many,easy to reach peaks to get after it on, and always fresh lines. 
    
    With no resorts to speak of nearby, and heli-skiing not allowed (unless by special permit), fitness and motivation are the keys to getting the goods.  If you have a good crew, you can just slay peaks and couloirs, as many as you have energy for — one reason why Molly, fresh off a busy couple trips touring in BC for some magazine stories and filming at Icefall Lodge with Sweetgrass, was a perfect trip partner.
    
    The ski route down to $12 beers.
    
    We had spent the first week crammed into a cabin on a 46-foot sailboat by Boreal Yachting, which dropped us at icy beaches under peaks we wanted to ski. Access by boat can be key — the fjords reach in and snake around so much spectacular terrain. It explains the growing popularity of the ski/sail trip, by companies like Boreal in the Lyngen region or Ice Axe Expeditions on Norway’s Svalbard Island.
    
    After the boat, we hit the road, driving to our starting points. Near the end of our trip, we found ourselves on top of a quintessential peak, Storstalpan, with an ethereal blue sea stretching north, spiky white peaks to the sides, and, under us technical summit descent followed by a couple thousand feet of fresh powder to a beachy finish.

    In Norway, life's a beach.
    
    “When you get a good day, the way the terrain is set up, and the views, a bluebird powder day is almost better than anything else – it’s so unique,” observed Molly, as we discussed a return trip before we even left.
    
    You get what you put into it in Norway, indeed.

    Getting embedded in the local culture, Molly Baker enjoys a dried fish stick in Norway.
    

  • Blog post
  • 11 months ago
  • Views: 210
  • Not yet rated

• Peter Velisek, Karin Flack and Peter Velisek, Karin Flack and Sigrid Svensson in Nelson, B.C., by Lindsey Ross

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:
    Peter Velisek, Karin Flack and Sigrid Svensson graciously transport us back to Nelson to warm up after shooting.
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 177
  • Not yet rated

• Video: Eliel Hindert Shows Imp Video: Eliel Hindert Shows Impeccable Style In His 2010-2011 Season Edit

  • From: media-75233
  • Description:

    Eliel Hindert's 2010-2011 Season Edit is a hyper-realistic look into a season of sliding on snow across countries and continents alike. The only way to show the true nature of something is in its style, not its fact.
    
    Music:
    "Runaway (Instrumentals)" -- Kanye West
    "The Difference Between Us" -- The Dead Weather

  • Blog post
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 157
  • Not yet rated

• Subspectrum: Unidentified Wave Subspectrum: Unidentified Wavelengths In Nelson, B.C.

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:

    The Hume Hotel, established in 1898, is a landmark in downtown Nelson, British Columbia.
    
    — Words and photos by Lindsey Ross
    
    For a month this winter, I had the unique opportunity to photograph with Sweetgrass Productions in Nelson, B.C. The ski and snowboard film company was producing a movie there and rented a house in the area for the duration of the project. This home became the epicenter of the Sweetgrass community, serving as a temporary residence for the elite skiers and snowboarders who showed up to film. I arrived to find athletes, filmmakers, and photographers packed into a six-bedroom house, sleeping in closets, on living room floors, and under stairwells. At night we dined, stretched, hydrated, planned, edited and entertained one another with movies and acoustic music. During the days, we chased ephemeral light, immaculate snow and mystical terrain. Enraptured in these conditions, athletes went big and my 1970s-era Hasselblad camera served as a faithful witness to this.
    
    Sweetgrass is known for their methodical, artistic approach to filmmaking, often drawing upon the culture and aesthetics of their film locations. This film is set up to be no different and is greatly informed and fueled by the town of Nelson. Nelson is a community, which embodies a distinctive and yet dualistic character. It seems to exist somewhere between many polarities: it is organic and electronic, homegrown and cosmic, genuine and effervescent, earthy and sublime. The community possesses the energy of youth but the reverence for heritage. The appropriate lens was necessary explore this mysterious locale.
    
    These images are exposed on expired film, producing magenta photographs. The color magenta symbolizes creativity and flow of energy. It is an anomaly among colors because it has no assigned wavelength. So theoretically magenta does not exist. But the color itself does exist — it exists in two places at once, opposite ends of the visible spectrum at a higher frequency than violet and a lower frequency than red. Therefore, it is considered a sub spectral color because it only exists as a result of the combination of two or more wavelengths. Upon being discovered, magenta broke convention of scientific understanding of the visible spectrum.
    
    It seemed appropriate to photograph with Sweetgrass in Nelson, a town defined by paradox with a hue also defined by paradox.

    
    Pro skier Carston Oliver shows his superhuman core strength while levitating over the rail on the deck.

    A local snowboarder approaches the hitching post just outside of Nelson en route to Whitewater Ski Resort, the local ski hill.  Hitchhiking is very common mode of transportation from Nelson to Whitewater. 

    The Sweetgrass van picks up pro snowboarder and Nelson native Adraon Buck at the hitching post for a day of filming in the backcountry.

    The Silverking Chairlift is one of three lifts at Whitewater Resort. The unpretentious nature of Whitewater helps maintain an ultra-local resort status.

    Ben Sturgulewski, Chris Erickson, Will Cardamone, Garrett Grove and Trevor Hunt skin into the Whitewater sidecountry to film.

    Whitewater Ski Resort is located at the southern end of the Selkirk Mountains. 

    Adraon Buck builds a solid launch for a line in the sidecountry.

    Freestyle skier Eliel Hindert sends it over a spine with a 360.

    Adraon Buck airs into a smooth line in the Whitewater sidecountry.

    Ski mountaineer Trevor Hunt enjoys some immaculate powder turns.

    Adraon Buck airs it out.

    Pro tele-skier Chris Erickson drops in during the last seconds of evening light. 

    Peter Velisek, Karin Flack and Sigrid Svensson graciously transport us back to Nelson to warm up after shooting.

  • Blog post
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 170
  • Not yet rated

• Chris Erickson in Nelson, B.C. Chris Erickson in Nelson, B.C. by Lindsay Ross

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:
    Pro-tele skier Chris Erickson drops in during the last seconds of evening light.
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 138
  • Not yet rated

• Adraon Buck in Nelson, B.C., b Adraon Buck in Nelson, B.C., by Lindsey Ross

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:
    Adraon Buck airs in Whitewater sidecountry.
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 176
  • Not yet rated

• Trevor Hunt in Nelson, B.C. b Trevor Hunt in Nelson, B.C. by Lindsey Ross

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:
    Ski mountaineer Trevor Hunt enjoys some immaculate powder turns in Whitewater sidecountry.
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 158
  • Not yet rated

• Adraon Buck in Nelson, B.C., b Adraon Buck in Nelson, B.C., by Lindsey Ross

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:
    Adraon Buck airs into a smooth line in Whitewater sidecountry
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 167
  • Not yet rated

• Eliel Hindert by Lindsey Ross Eliel Hindert by Lindsey Ross

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:
    Freestyle skier Eliel Hindert sends it over a spine with a 360.
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 154
  • Not yet rated

• Adraon Buck in Nelson, B.C., b Adraon Buck in Nelson, B.C., by Lindsey Ross

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:
    Adraon Buck builds a solid launch for a line in the Whitewater sidecountry.
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 138
  • Not yet rated

• Whitewater Ski Resort by Linds Whitewater Ski Resort by Lindsey Ross

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:
    Whitewater Ski Resort is located at the southern end of the Selkirk Mountain Range.
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 153
  • Not yet rated

• Sweetgrass Crew at Whitewater Sweetgrass Crew at Whitewater by Lindsey Ross

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:
    Ben Sturgulewski, Chris Erickson, Will Cardamone, Garrett Grove and Trevor Hunt skin into the Whitewater sidecountry to film.
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 167
  • Not yet rated

• Silverking Chairlift, Whitewat Silverking Chairlift, Whitewater Resort, B.C., by Lindsey Ross

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:
    The Silverking Chairlift is one of three lifts at Whitewater Resort. The unpretentious nature of Whitewater helps maintain an ultra-local resort status.
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 137
  • Not yet rated

• Adraon Buck in Nelson, B.C., Adraon Buck in Nelson, B.C., by Lindsey Ross

  • From: lindseyross
  • Description:
    The Sweetgrass van picks up pro-snowboarder and Nelson native Adraon Buck at the hitching post for a day of filming in the backcountry.
  • 1 year ago
  • Views: 171
  • Not yet rated