Grays On Trays

A couple weeks ago, TIME magazine asked the question, “Is snowboarding getting spoiled by big money?” While the article makes some good points, it’s also annoying.

First, the good points. One, at the professional level, snowboarding is becoming more dangerous. Halfpipe riders are pushing the boundaries of what anyone thought possible, in terms of aerobatics and height. With greater thrills comes the opportunity for greater spills, spills that can be deadly. (I wouldn’t be surprised if somebody dies while trying the Next New Thing in the halfpipe.)

Another good point is that safety equipment can encourage more risk-taking. This is a well-established theory, called the Peltzman Effect, that you see especially in discussions of driving.

And it’s also likely true that corporate dollars have helped accelerate the progression of halfpipe riding, though I suspect that even without Red Bull money (used to build a private halfpipe practice facility), Shaun White would still be pushing back the frontiers of riding.

Finally, a video of Gretchen Bleiler talking about her training routine makes it clear that top riders are truly athletes. (Jump to 2:38 along.)

It doesn’t take long for the nonsense to surface in the TIME article, though: “But as Olympic snowboarders are soaring to new airborne feats, some in the sport are worried about the extreme risks and seemingly endless dollars being spent.” This suggests that the former causes the ladder. Now, it’s true that the opportunity for fame and riches can encourage some riders onward. But there’s also a competitive streak that inhabits the human soul that some people will follow regardless of dollars.

TIME also channels a hippie-style view of snowboarding:

Snowboarders also fear tunnel vision training will be used to “breed” athletes for competition.

“There’s a lot of artistic influence and individuality, which I think is core to what makes snowboarding so awesome,” says Izzo. “We are not necessarily cultivating and developing snowboarders anymore.”

“It scares me,” she adds, “because it really takes away from what snowboarding is and what it should be.”

As the money and risks rise, the loss for snowboarding could be the very things that draw so many to the sport — its accessibility, esprit de corps and sheer pleasure.

I don’t know about you, but my pleasure in snowboarding will be affected if Shaun White or any other elite snowboarder feels like he has lost his individuality, esprit de corps or sheer pleasure. To borrow from a sport that is in season now, golf, playing on the PGA tour must, after a time, be as much of a job as filling out TPS reports each week. But the plight of the professionals does not hinder the pleasure of weekend hackers.

(Thanks to Powd3r for the pointer.)

It may sounds like a case of “Baby Boomers Gone Wild,” but snowboarding after getting new body parts is not a joke.

I made a lot of progress as a skier by taking lessons from a man in his 70s. He had two artificial hips. And I’m sure that some people have gone skiing after getting a knee replacement.

It’s snowboarding that I’m not so sure about. Not that it’s impossible, but because there are so many fewer mature snowboarders than comparable skiers.

A new member of the Grays on Trays discussion board has a question about riding after a knee replacement:

“After years of PT, cortisone injections, synvisc treatment, celebrex pills, braces, ACL reconstruction/repair, my orthopedic surgeon finally said those dreaded words, “Nothing else we can do for the knee but a Total Knee Replacement.”

I’m a 49 y.o., female, intermediate rider who loves cruising powder runs in CO — I never intentionally leave the snow surface. I usually “rest” in the kneeling position so I can take-off on my toeside — will I have to change to resting on my butt and taking off on my heelside? Really worried about kneeling with a TKR (back leg).”

Please add a comment if you can provide some useful information.

I don’t believe in taking stupid chances. In snowboarding, if you haven’t yet learned how to link turns, don’t go to a narrow, rock-filled chute and try to ride in it.

That being said, there’s a risk in everything, including driving to your favorite ski area. Yet sometimes as humans we have very irrational views of risk.

A commentary in the Wall Street Journal, “The Hazards of Life on the Edge,” (August 28), asks, “Why are there so few guardrails at the Grand Canyon?”

It’s a worthwhile question, considering the silly warning labels we see on consumer products.

The Journal finds an official with the National Park Service, who says, “The Park Service’s goal is to get people out into the park. And we don’t want to take that opportunity away from the public.”

Good for them!

And people who frequent the outdoors understand:

“It seems that those who frequent the outdoors have an aversion to nanny-statism, which allows the Park Service to take a grown-up attitude toward its visitors: ‘Their safety is their responsibility,’ says Ron Terry, Zion [National Park]‘s public information officer. ‘We couldn’t possibly put railings up everywhere. It wouldn’t be feasible, nor would we want to.’”

So why the disconnect? It could be that our minds are playing tricks on us:

“‘Most people, including professionals, don’t understand relative risk,’” says Seymour Garte, a professor of occupational health and author of ‘Where We Stand: A Surprising Look at the Real State of Our Planet.’ We get nervous flying a commercial jet yet don’t think twice about driving the highway. ‘People are more often risk averse if they feel they aren’t in control of the exposure,’ Prof. Garte says. The sun may present a clear and present danger, but we generally control how much of it we get, which makes us all too comfortable with getting all too much.”

Is snowboarding dangerous? Yes, and no. It depends on where you are, what you’re doing, who you are (your judgment, primarily) and what kind of preparation you have.

You’ve heard about Sony Bono, one of the Kennedys and other people getting killed from skiing into trees? If you’re going faster than, say, 25 miles per hours–very easy on a groomed slope–and you hit a tree head-on, no helmet will save you.

You could argue that there’s no more enjoyable kind of riding than riding in powder, among the trees. I might have to agree with you. I spent my childhood in a house on a 1.5 acre lot that had plenty of 70-foot tall (or higher) pines. And during the last season I enjoyed riding among the trees at Bretton Woods, Buttermilk, and Snowmass. There’s something interesting and sometimes thrilling about being in a forest. The shape and color of the trees adds variety, especially if the trees are evergreen. Trees simply give a descent down the mountain a different feel.

But trees can be deadly, and not only because of the possibility of head injuries. There’s also suffocation in tree wells, which are areas right next to the trunk of a tree. Ironically, they don’t have as much snow as the ground a few further away from the trunk.

Does all this mean that you shouldn’t ride in the trees? Only if the fact that people die in automobile crashes keeps you from ever being in a car. The key is not to avoid risk entirely, but to minimize it.

Last year, Shayboarder offered up some useful information on how to ride safely through trees. See also the site Tree Well Safety.

The Daily Coloradoan (article no longer online) had an interesting article last year (January 27) about injuries and fatalities on the slopes. Among the points made in the article:

• On average, 37 people die each year while skiing or snowboarding–about the same number of people who die from lightning strikes and tornadoes.
• Over the last 50 years, the annual rate of reported injuries from skiing and snowboarding has declined by 40 percent.
• Between 1990/91 and 2000/01, the rate of snowboarding injuries doubled.
• The most common location of fatalities is a groomed, blue slopes. (I’m suspecting that this is due either to collisions with riders and skiers, or collisions with trees just off the slope.)
• Helmet use is up. But while helmets can reduce the frequency and severity of less serious injuries, the rate of fatalities from head injuries has not decreased with the rise in helmet use. That’s because helmets don’t do much good for skiers or riders when they go over 12 miles per hour.
• The most common ski injury is to the knee; the most common snowboarding injury is to the wrist.

The lesson: Follow the responsibility code. Be alert. And wear a helmet–but don’t let it lull you into taking on more risky behavior than you otherwise would.

Snowboarding isn’t for wimps, which means that you do need to put up with some cold. In fact, you just might have thought a ponderous “duh” as you read that last sentence. After all, how can you have snow without cold?

Well, there’s cold, and then there’s cold.

What defines “cold” is relative, of course. A relative of mine who travels from south Florida to Michigan during August packs a sweater with her. To me, the perfect temperature for snowboarding is somewhere around 24 degrees

Today I went snowboarding. Temperature: 3 degrees. With 15 mile-per-hour winds.

I like to remind my friends who complain about 24-degree air “There’s no such thing as too cold, just inadequately dressed.”

After today, I’ll amend that remark, just a little. You’ve also got to be adequately prepared by having your stuff in the right place.

You see, I’ve had cold, a sinus infection, or something like that, for about a month. Sometimes it’s bad, sometimes not so much.

But when I was out on the hill today, the combination of cold temperature and warm air (breathing through my neck gaiter) got the old nose to running something fierce. I had been careful to pack some tissue with me, but I had buried it underneath three layers of clothing, in a zipped-up pocket.

The wind chill was strong enough that rooting through my clothes with bare hands was unwise, so it was off to the lodge to find it. And then a moment of temporary stupidity, I neglected to move the tissue to an outside pocket.

Never mind, though, making an indoor stop was useful for warming up my fingers, which got cold even with hand warmers. Must be time for new gloves.

This week I’ve written a lot about legal issues, safety concerns, and chair lifts. Coincidentally, some of these issues came to the fore at Whistler/Blackcomb during this week as well.’

Martin Griff, who writes about snow sports for several newspapers in New Jersey, reports on the events on his blog.

Start with the entry Blackcomb gondola tower collapses: 53 people rescued.

He writes, “A Google search will find numerous stories about the collapse on the web. I’m not sure about copyright issues and have yet to find stories with permalinks, so you’re on your own in finding objective coverage.” Then he provides a link to a press release from the W/B management. And sure enough, the ski patrol came through by evacuating people from the cabins.

The next entry from Martin’s blog is “‘Ice jacking’ caused tower failure at Whistler Blackcomb, according to media update.” In brief, the tower expanded and popped, just like what happens if you leave a can of soda/pop/beer out in very cold temperatures.

According to a CNN report, a police official says “At no time was anyone in serious risk and at no time were the cars separated from the line.”

What does it take to be on the ski patrol? A lot more than knowing how to ski or ride.

A couple of years ago I went to an orientation meeting for would-be ski patrollers. I wasn’t seriously interested in joining up, since I was already an instructor, but I did want to see what being on the patrol entailed.

To answer one obvious question, yes, the ski patrol includes snowboarders.

Being on the patrol doesn’t require that you be the most outstanding skier or rider around, but you do have to be able to navigate all terrain, and pull someone on a sled at the same time. While you do need to have on-snow skills, that’s not enough.

Though the patrol generally has the power to eject people from the ski area, its main job is not enforcing the responsibility code. (In fact, some ski areas have another group of people with that mission.) The major responsibility of the ski patrol is to administer first aid.

The requirements to become a member of the patrol are rather steep, including extensive book learning, classroom workshops, and on-the-hill training.

To get an idea of what’s required, see the ski patrol page for Devil’s Head, Wisconsin, a small area in the American Midwest. Candidates for the ski patrol there must:

- Attend a 4-hour class each week for 16 weeks, reading 20-50 pages a week and taking quizzes about the material, plus a final exam;
- Take an 8-hour class on CPR;
- Attend 4-hour, on-the-hill training meetings once a week for 12 weeks;
- Take a 4-hour class in how to evacuate people from a chair lift in case of emergency;
- Sign up for a weekly shift during the season;
- Shell out close to $500 for books, materials and supplies;
- Attend refresher training each year.

In exchange for all this work, most members of the patrol receive a season pass, some camaraderie, and the chance to do something they enjoy.

Sad but true, and perhaps frightening: chair lifts can stop running, even as people are being carried up the mountain.

Last season, this happened locally–on a rare powder day, no less!. The power was out for about an hour, which means that some unfortunate souls not only missed out on some good skiing and riding, but they also had 60 minutes to sit 30 feet above the ground, unable to move. That had to be uncomfortable, in more ways than one.

Eventually, the ski area’s backup generators kicked in, but they were so low-powered that it took the area staff another hour to get everyone off the lifts. At least that’s what I remember from a conversation I had with some teenagers who were there when it happened the day before.

Sometimes, as with that case, you simply have to wait it out if the lifts stop running. In more serious conditions–say the power is going to be out for a long time or the windchills are dipping into the dangerous realm–the ski patrol kicks into gear with a chair evacuation.

I’ve never been involved in one or even seen a practice, but from what I understand, it involves throwing a rope over the lift line and lowering down each person in a harness. Being lowered to the ground in a leather diaper isn’t something most people would voluntarily do, but it beats the alternatives.

Naturally, participating in evacuation drills is standard procedure for ski patrols.

Just another reason why I’m not a patroller.

One of the elements of the alpine responsibility code is “You must not stop where you obstruct a trail, or are not visible from above.”

Like most elements of the code, it’s flouted far too often.

Today I was about to leave the unloading area at the top of the lift. Then I looked in front of me. The path away from there was fairly narrow, what the edge of the hill on one side and the lift shack on the other.

So what did I notice directly in my path? Three young snowboarders, sitting on the ground, boards spread horizontally across the path. To make matters worse, Curly, Moe and Larry, as I’ll call them, were sitting side by side by side.

Each board was about a board’s width apart from each other, with a few inches to spare. I had to pick a channel between two of the boards to get my run started.

Now you could say that another element of the responsibility code should have obtained: “People ahead of you have the right of way. It is your responsibility to avoid them.”

I did avoid them–that is, I avoided running into any of the boards. So you might say “No harm, no foul.”

On the other hand, Larry, Curly and Moe could have handled the situation differently, such as lining up vertically (that is, one in front of the other in front of the other).

Situational awareness, people!

(For more on snowboarding safety, see the Grays on Trays safety page.)