Grays On Trays

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The Salt Lake Tribune asked its readers to declare their favorite and least favorite mountains for snow sports. It revealed a continued dislike of snowboarders, at least among skiers. The Salt Lake region has two mountains that are ski-only, and that fact drew some positive comments.

In the unscientific “survey,” which drew over 1,100 responses, “Alta ultimately came out No. 1 as the ‘Favorite Resort,’ its prohibition against snowboarders and overall ambiance elevating it over Snowbird.

“Of the 294 people who designated Alta their favorite resort, 114 (39 percent) cited no snowboarders as one reason why. Conversely, 43 of the 60 people (72 percent) who ripped Alta as their least favorite resort based their answer on the snowboard ban, as did 22 percent of those who designated Deer Valley, which also prohibits ‘boards, as their least favorite.”

Among the people who complained about Brighton, 80 cited its reputation as a popular hangout for snowboarders. In the words one reader, the teenaged riders “have a very short and inattentive span to the fact that others are also on the mountain.”

OK, I’ll say it now: Bad snowboarders. Bad.

As a big believer in the power of free markets to peacefully raise standards of living and arbitrate among various interests, I don’t know ski-only resorts. Banning snowboards is their business decision to make, whether it’s based on the personal taste of owners, or a calculated decision that doing so will increase revenue.

The sooner that advocates of snowboarding adopt this attitude, the sooner the bad-boy image will subside. Then again, that would be the worst thing to happen to a few riders.

Source: “Snowboard, Alta charm the masses in Tribune poll,” Salt Lake Tribune, November 14, 2006.

The other day I mentioned that ski guru Lito Tejada-Flores had written favorably about snowboarding in one of his travel books.

Several years ago–prior to the release of the updated version of the travel book–I wrote a note to Mr. Tejada-Flores, something about his books and snowboarding, and got a gracious response. But I had wondered he would take to a snowboard some day.

Looking deeper into The Unofficial Guide to Skiing and Snowboarding in the West I saw that he had tried snowboarding. Here’s what he says, on pages 198-199. It does a good job of capturing some of the dynamics that cross-over skiers face. I don’t necessarily endorse all his tips, but it’s a worthwhile read. (And buy the book if you want to know your way around Western resorts.)

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Few things are as humbling or as stimulating to a good skier as abandoning the security of a sport already mastered to become, once again, an awkward beginner. This is true on cross-country skating skis, on telemark skis, on monoskis, and especially on snowboards. Recently I strapped on one of these amazing contraptions for the first time and loved it. Here’s a little of what I learned.

Which foot forward? Snowboarding, like surfing and skateboarding, is a sideways-standing sport. To discover your natural stance, find an icy stretch of pavement or a frozen puddle, run a few feet, and let yourself slide across it. Which foot do you instinctively stretch forward? That’s your front foot on a snowboard.

To get started, pick an easy hill with soft snow. What precisely does one do with a snowboard? There are several competing approaches in snowboarding instruction, but this is what worked for me. Go across the hill first. You will gain more confidence and control more quickly, if you develop a traversing/side-slipping/braking pattern first, before heading straight down the fall line. Unlike skiing, traverse across the slope on a snowboard is quite different depending on which way you’re heading. You will have a back-side traverse (back to the mountain) and a front-side traverse (facing the mountain). The back-side traverse is a stronger, easier maneuver, because the high plastic spoilers of most snowboard bindings give you more support from this direction—you can lean back against them to increase edging. On the front-side traverse you feel like your standing on your toes, and it takes more strength to control the board. Experienced skiers seem to react differently to snowboards than those whose only experience of sliding over snow has been on a board. Instinctively, the skilled skiers who tries snowboarding wants to develop strong edge control. The shortest route to this end is to use hard plastic snowboarding boots than soft Sorel-type felt-lined boots and wraparound bindings. Hard boots greatly strengthen your front-side edging.

While you traverse the slope, flatten and sideslip your board from time to time; to stop, push the board away from you, twisting it up the hill, while you let it slip. And—very important—when you get in trouble, sit down! In fact, you can sit down and flip your board around between traverses until you’re ready to turn downhill. As in skiing, the downward turn is the soul of the sport, but don’t try it until you feel comfortable just sliding sideways and across the hill. When you’re ready, start your downhill turn by committing your body in the direction you want to go—leading with your front hand—and then swivel your board with your feet to catch up to where your body is. The feeling is almost like falling into a turn, insecure but very effective.

This thumbnail sketch doesn’t take the place of lessons, and nowadays most ski schools have become ski and snowboard schools, so it won’t be hard to find good snowboard lessons at most ski areas. Five years ago it would have been a challenge, ten years ago impossible. Good riding!

Want more proof that snowboarding isn’t just for kids anymore? Consider the words of a ski guru.

One of my favorite ski writers is Lito Tejada-Flores, whose book Breakthrough on the New Skis: Say Goodbye to the Intermediate Blues (3rd Ed)helped me get my start in alpine sports.

Lito is also the editor of The Unofficial Guide to Skiing in the West, a review of, well, ski areas in western North America. Here’s what he has to say about snowboarding (pp. 64-64).

A new form of “skiing” has appeared as well. By this, I mean snowboarding, a controversial rarity a decade ago, now quite common at one Colorado ski resort.

[He's speaking, in 1999, of Aspen Mountain, which has since dropped its ban--ed.]

Snowboarding is challenging and graceful, but above all, it’s new. And that is exactly why it’s attractive to the youngsters who, on the slopes as in every day life, delight in anything that sets them apart from their parents’ generation. Far from being a subversive threat to the integrity of our sport, as some over-reacting ski area managers initially perceived it to be, snowboarding has actually brought more families to the slopes together; it has given more kids a reason to accompany their parents willingly rather than grudgingly on annual Colorado ski jaunts.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, I thought, as I re-read this passage. I’m thinking that Lito is enough of a snow enthusiast that he has at least secretly tried out riding. So why the emphasis on kids and their desire to be different from the parents? Still, give him credit for saying that it’s not subversive.

I dug some further digging on Amazon and found that the book has been updated, and given a new title. Here’s what Lito has to say in The Unofficial Guide to Skiing and Snowboarding in the West:

Fifteen years ago, snowboarding was a controversial rarity. Now skiers and riders share the slopes at all Colorado ski slopes and at all but one in New Mexico. Snowboarding’s initial appeal was to youngsters who, on the slopes as in everyday life, delight in anything that sets them apart from their parents’ generation.

But those first-wave young riders have now grown up, and even their parents have taken up the sport. Snowboarding has actually brought more families to the slopes together and has given more kids a reason to accompany their parents willingly rather than grudgingly on annual Colorado ski jaunts. Mountain snowboarding is challenging and graceful, while Colorado’s abundant half-pipes, quarter-pipes, and terrain parks still bring on that adrenaline rush, not just for single-plank snowboarders, but for new-school skiers.

He’s right on several accounts. The initial reaction has been corrected, kids love it, and adults can enjoy its grace and challenge.

If someone in your family still prefers skiing, you might wish to peruse Lito’s web site, Breakthrough on Skis. Check out his threeDVDsas well.

Since the name of this blog and web site stems from an old insult, it’s time to mention a few words relating to snow sports.

Grays on Trays, of course, refers to adults who ride snowboards. Published reports of it suggest a minimum age of anywhere from 20 to 50.

A less flattering term of a snowboard rider is knuckle dragger, perhaps as in “knuckle-dragging Neanderthal,” or troglodyte.

A far less commonly found term in winter sports (there are less than two dozen hits on a Google search) is disco sticks. I take this to refer to the long straight skis of the 1970s. Oddly enough (or not), I first heard this in about the same time someone was playing a song from the 70s-era band (though not disco group), Styx.

Another snow term? Several instructors I know teach both skiing and snowboarding. One of the more ardent advocates of snowboarding calls such individuals crossdressers.

It’s an odd term, really. Ski and snowboard instructors wear the same gear from head to … well, not toe, but to mid-shin.

Near the end of a long but enjoyable day, I was riding down the final approach to the base of Buttermilk Mountain. I had even come off a pleasant exchange with some long-time skiers who are part of my social group at the lodge. And then I faced the return of The Ugly Skier.

I was riding close to the chairlift, in sight of the base, when I heard someone yell from the lift “The halfpipe is over there.”

I looked up, but did not recognize anyone. The unknown male voice shouted again “The halfpipe is over there.” It was an insistent rather than playful voice.

Me in the halfpipe? That’s about as likely (this year, at least) as the Queen of England doing a cab 1080.

Taking the call as a personal taunt (“You don’t belong here”), I considered three options.

First, I could return insult for insult, and shout something like “Stick it.” A second thought soon washed over me: don’t return evil for good, and don’t do anything to reinforce the negative reputation of snowboarders. (After all, I was now one of them).

My final thought was a more practical and immediate one: “That could be someone from our group.”

So I said nothing.

I never did find out who shouted from the lift, or even if the comment was directed toward me. I asked a few suspects back at the lodge, but all denied culpability. I’m willing to believe it was someone else, who was just having a bad day.