Grays On Trays

One challenge in being a middle-aged snowboarder is finding reading materials that are written more like the New Yorker–or even USA Today–and less like … well, I’m not going to go there. A few years ago I wrote a review of snowboarding magazines, and didn’t much like what I saw.

In particular, I had harsh words for TransWorld Snowboarding. One reason is that it is the industry standard and has (I believe) the largest circulation of snowboarding magazines. Another is that it takes the unsatisfactory qualities of the genre–vulgar language, an unreadable graphic design, and an attitude that plays to the stereotype of snowboarders–to a higher level.

Sometime after writing those reviews I received an e-mail from one of the editors of TWS, saying that the magazine was changing. (Unfortunately it got lost in my e-mail box and I didn’t see it for quite a while.) I haven’t had much contact with the publication since.

Thanks to Twitter, I found out today that TWS gives GraysOnTrays.com, and older riders, some recognition in the November, 2009 edition, which contains a letter from KJ Riley, entitled “Old Dog”:

Since your mag is the only widely distributed snowboarding periodical I can find, I get it regularly and enjoy the pics of snow-covered hills, dreaming of that time I will be retired with enough money to ride all those places. But, being 59 and a crazy ol’ man boarder, I sure would like to see some other seniors represented once in a while (maybe I’m one of the very few around … who knows!). Even if we see a lot of good snow riding pics (I don’t do rails or pipes, and I’m waiting until I slim down by 50 pounds to do any jumps) especially on double blacks like Kirkwood’s Wall, Sugar Bowl’s Palisades, or Mammoth’s runs from the top of the gondola, I could get down with that …. otherwise, keep up the good pics and articles like you’ve had last year about resort areas.

The editors responded:

Hey, KJ, We’ll keep stoking you out with epic shots and resort features, but we don’t want you to feel like you’re alone out there, so we’re hooking you up with a Web site to check out: graysontrays.com. It’s for “grown-up” riders. The site itself is whatever (yeah, we read that review of TransWorld … dis!), but they’ve got active discussion boards that are broken down into regions and even one for the ladies. Everyone knows it’s more fun to shred with a crew.

Thanks, TWS, for helping out a rider by referring him to a site that he might find helpful, even if it did give you a “dis” review. Now that’s customer service. Thanks also for the kind words about the discussion boards. I have found them helpful and I know that others have, too.

By the way, another letter in the same issue comes from “a mom of three boys that all snowboard.” She asks “is there any hope of learning to snowboard at 40?”

Absolutely! The TWS staff gave a good reply: “Hey, you can and you will learn this winter–just take some lessons, use the right equipment, and try not to fall on your wrists.”

If you go into a sporting goods or news store and look for a magazine on snowboarding, you may end up disappointed. I know that I am. So here’s what I’m looking for in a snowboarding magazine. (It builds on what I previously wrote on the subject.)

Grown-up language.
By this I don’t mean salty or “adult” language. I know how to use those words but don’t necessarily want to read them in a magazine. What I mean by “grown-up” is high-quality writing. Think of the Wall Street Journal or the New York Times and you begin to get the idea.

Information about snowboards and related equipment and supplies.
When I read magazines that offer reviews of gear, detailed rankings aren’t that useful. For one thing, by the time I get around to buying whatever it is that I’m reading about, the model may have changed. But some information about snowboard gear is a good thing. For example, I’ve read a lot about Magnetraction, available on some boards. A good magazine article would describe what this is, its usefulness and limitations, which companies offer it, how it came into being, and how it fits into the evolution of snowboarding equipment.

Information about ski areas and the resort industry.
What’s new within the resort industry, generally? If the next great thing will be lift chairs with individually programmable iPods built into the safety bar, let me know ahead of time. If Mount Whoozit has a particularly interesting guest service that relates to riding and skiing, talk about it.

Profiles of riders with professional lives.
I’d like to see some stories about people who enjoy snowboarding but who aren’t professional riders. I’m thinking of people who work as accountants, biologists, cardiologists, what have you, and who enjoy getting out on the snow. They’re are easier for me to relate to than the 20-year old bartender. Why and when did they start riding? What do they enjoy about riding?

First-person stories about snowboarding.
This is related to the previous item, but some first person stories would be worthwhile. There are hundreds of thousands of adult riders, and some of them must have some interesting stories relating to learning how to ride, developing skills in a new avenue of life, meeting new friends, and so forth. Let them tell their stories.

Stories about snowboarding trips.
All sorts of interesting things can happen when you go on a trip: Where did you go? What were the surprises, delights, and disappointments of the mountain? Any catastrophes with gear? Weather? How about rituals or group interactions?

What I’m not looking for.
I suppose it might help flesh out my wants by mentioning a few things I’m not looking for: news about the latest industry parties, eye candy that overshadows well-written text, and how to appoint that 7-figure second home.

There’s more I could say, but in short, I’m looking for something that’s both industry and consumer oriented, technical and literary–but always keeping an eye towards a sensible adult audience that has a life off the mountain. Tone is as important as content.

A trail map is a handy companion for your visit to a ski area. But what if you need something more? Enter the specialized guide.

The Aspen Ski and Snowboard Guide, written by Neal Beidleman, promises advanced and expert skiers and snowboarders “150 plus runs not on the trail map.” I won’t be making my annual trip to Aspen this season, so I bought the book with the idea that it would let me fantasize about what I’ll be missing. As it turns out, I should have had this a long time ago.

Beidleman offers an overview of the four mountains in Aspen: Aspen mountain (sometimes called Ajax), Highlands, Buttermilk, and Snowmass. Each of the mountains, which are accessible by a common lift ticket, have their own personality or reputation. Ajax is the home of the rich and famous; Highlands is defined by its legendary bowl, with steep pitches and lots of powder; Buttermilk is for learning, cruising, and watching the Winter X-Games and Snowmass is a giant that offers something for everyone.

Each mountain gets a chapter, which starts with an introduction offering some historical background. (The first lift in the region was installed on Ajax in 1937. It used old boats!) Each mountain also gets an overview photo. Since Snowmass is so big, its overview photo is labeled with various peaks or areas.

The various areas of each mountain get their own overview map with red lines overlaid onto the photograph to indicate a each trail. (The easier trails are typically not included unless they are essential for getting from one part of the mountain to another.) The trails in turn are numbered to descriptive paragraphs. Some lines get more thorough descriptions than others, but all are graded on a single scale that goes from A (typically groomed trails) to E (those that require a significant amount of air).

The universal scale allows for a comparison across each mountain. So, for example, even though Buttermilk has its black diamond trails, all colors of trails at Buttermilk are given an “A.” This scale is based on typical conditions, though snow coverage and snow condition can turn a treacherous trail into a fun casual ride—and vice versa. The universal scale of difficulty is one of the best parts of the book.

So how many new trails does the book offer up? When I compared the photographs and descriptions with a trail map for the 2007-08 season, I counted a total of 118 trails that were mentioned in the book but not included on the official trail map. That’s short of the advertised 150, though the difference may be human error on my part. I found 44 unmarked trails on Highlands, 39 on Ajax, 35 on Snowmass, and none at Buttermilk. Given the relatively small acreage of Ajax, the book does more to expand Ajax that it does any other mountain. Keep in mind, though, that the term “trail” can in many cases be misleading, as in the case of a bowl. But still, there are many new routes to find.

The book is not a substitute for a trail map. The focus on specific part of each mountain make it easy to forget the big picture, which a trail map can provide. The book does reprint segments of the map, according to each area being described, but the reprints are fairly small and sometimes hard to read.

The person who can handle anything the mountains offer, including hero air, will gain the most out of this book. But even those riders not willing to throw themselves off the cliff bands in Snowmass will benefit, if for no other reason they will know where not to go.

The advanced rider will find lots of challenges, including steeps, bumps, trees, and even areas that combine all three. And even the intermediate rider can enjoy the book as a way to keep in touch with the sport in the off season. The photos of skiers and riders in glades, in powder, and elsewhere conjure up good memories, and help anticipate new ones. A few photos of world-class skiers and riders getting air—and I mean huge air—inspire awe.

Advanced riders can new ways of looking at the mountains. For example, I learned that at Snowmass it’s possible to ride from the top of the Big Burn to the bottom of Campground area all in a single descent of 3,600 feet. Though I’ve been to Snowmass about 12 different times, I’ve seldom been to Campground, and never knew of this super-long option, which, the author says, was planned (but never used) as the route for World Cup ski races.

The chapter on Ajax—a mountain I’ve ridden only once—demonstrates the usefulness of knowing some history. “The Dumps” section of Ajax got its name from the tailings left behind from the silver mines. The pock-marked nature of the Dumps is something you should take into consideration in planning your ride.

Oddly enough, if there’s a place where the book comes up short, it’s in the photos. They lack compass points, which would be useful, especially when the text describes the east and west sides of various locations at Ajax and Highlands. And while we get an overview photo of the Highlands Bowl, the bowl’s various zones—B, G, R, and Y, to be specific—aren’t called out on that photo.

While the Aspen Ski and Snowboard Guide isn’t perfect, it is useful and a joy to read. It’s small enough to fit into a jacket but it opens up big vistas to the skier or rider.