Chamonix, France: the resort breathes a sigh of relief. La neige est arrivée. Here and in most ski resorts in the French, Swiss and Austrian Alps. And it's just in time, just as we were writing off 2007 as the ski season that wasn't, after 3 long weeks of unseasonably warm weather, cloud-less skies and ever louder cries from the doomsayers about global warming. Temperatures today in Chamonix - 10 below at resort level - are far from warm. Higher up on the slopes the cold is biting. Cold enough to justify a snood? It's never that cold.
As dumps of snow go this one was near perfect, big fat flakes falling mainly overnight and whitewashing trees, mountains and pavements. Skiers and boarders woke this morning to a blue sky day and get-me-to-them-quickly white peaks. Les Grands Montets looked good. Le Tour looked good. Damn even Les Houches looked good. But is this week's snowfall enough to make a real difference? Should the fence-sitters book their ski holiday now? Well, Geneva (ok, so it's not a ski resort, but first impressions count when you step off the plane) hasn't had this much snow in 16 years. Where it matters, up on the hill, the piste conditions are definitely better. Less icy, fewer rocks poking through, and less grass visible. Sub-text (and read knowing I'm a glass half-full kind of person): we still need more. On more exposed slopes the wind has whipped the powder into stiff white waves pushing today's avalanche risk up to "considerable" (3/5). Phat boy skis back in the box, you will have your day (though this year you might have to go to Whistler).
This week's snowfall does at least confirm the difference a day can make, and if things get really desperate we can always join in with these guys…
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Get ahead, get a hat
One of many things not to be surprised about when snow cover's thin (though it's now dumping down in the Dolomites and a few other corners of Europe - yay!) is the high accident rate. There's an increased chance not just of holes in your soles, from rocks, but in your head, from collisions with people failing to cope with sketchy hardpack.
So, wear a helmet. Unless of course there's a chance that any potential benefit is outweighed by some of the negative effects of wearing one. In which case, don't wear a helmet. But do ski more carefully.
And if you think risk compensation is phooey, then why, in the event of being hit from behind on piste, is it disproportionately probable, apparently, that the guilty party will be wearing a helmet?
A slightly different effect was recorded on the streets in the UK, where a scientist found cars passed him on his bicycle more closely when he wore a helmet than when he didn't (something a few urban riders were already familiar with). But not many of us have taken the next step, of wearing a long flowing wig to look like a dizzy blonde. He tried that too and got an even wider berth though he did presumably get his backside pinched more at traffic lights.
So there you have it: a theory for why some Scotsmen ski in kilts - they are in fact cross-dressing for safety.
So, wear a helmet. Unless of course there's a chance that any potential benefit is outweighed by some of the negative effects of wearing one. In which case, don't wear a helmet. But do ski more carefully.
And if you think risk compensation is phooey, then why, in the event of being hit from behind on piste, is it disproportionately probable, apparently, that the guilty party will be wearing a helmet?
A slightly different effect was recorded on the streets in the UK, where a scientist found cars passed him on his bicycle more closely when he wore a helmet than when he didn't (something a few urban riders were already familiar with). But not many of us have taken the next step, of wearing a long flowing wig to look like a dizzy blonde. He tried that too and got an even wider berth though he did presumably get his backside pinched more at traffic lights.
So there you have it: a theory for why some Scotsmen ski in kilts - they are in fact cross-dressing for safety.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Snow science
A butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazon and six months later we get a hurricane in Watford. That, in a nutshell, is what chaos theory is all about - nothing to do with that cupboard under the stairs after all, and everything to do with the idea that stuff has an effect on other stuff.
Well, I reckon a herd of warthogs in the Serengeti must have been breaking wind with more than their usual vigour to judge by the elevated air temperatures Europe has experienced so far this winter. Or doesn't it work like that?
The trouble is, it's very hard not to think about the weather all the time if you ski or board, as the massive online search activity for 'snow reports' demonstrates. We're not unique in this respect - surfers are always looking for the next wave, smacking their lips as another depression rolls in towards their bit of coastline. But they're lucky, needing only the swell to arrive, without worrying too much about the temperatures that accompany it, or if it's going to be raining (look, I don't care if you can hang ten while patting your head, rubbing your tummy and doing sudoku, you're goint to get wet at some point).
We, on the other hand, need the following: a storm that brings precipitation (plenty), at sufficiently cold temperatures, preferably without much wind (avalanche hazard), followed by clear cold weather (but not too cold). Ideally, the action will take place overnight, leaving your days clear to ride.
OK that last bit is not essential, but just the first part is a tall order. So maybe 9 out of 10 good years is pretty respectable, especially when you consider that normal winter freezing altitudes coincide pretty nearly with the height at which you find ideal ski terrain in many parts of the world. Either there is a greater being in charge (and she is a wintersports fanatic) or we're incredibly lucky.
Well, I reckon a herd of warthogs in the Serengeti must have been breaking wind with more than their usual vigour to judge by the elevated air temperatures Europe has experienced so far this winter. Or doesn't it work like that?
The trouble is, it's very hard not to think about the weather all the time if you ski or board, as the massive online search activity for 'snow reports' demonstrates. We're not unique in this respect - surfers are always looking for the next wave, smacking their lips as another depression rolls in towards their bit of coastline. But they're lucky, needing only the swell to arrive, without worrying too much about the temperatures that accompany it, or if it's going to be raining (look, I don't care if you can hang ten while patting your head, rubbing your tummy and doing sudoku, you're goint to get wet at some point).
We, on the other hand, need the following: a storm that brings precipitation (plenty), at sufficiently cold temperatures, preferably without much wind (avalanche hazard), followed by clear cold weather (but not too cold). Ideally, the action will take place overnight, leaving your days clear to ride.
OK that last bit is not essential, but just the first part is a tall order. So maybe 9 out of 10 good years is pretty respectable, especially when you consider that normal winter freezing altitudes coincide pretty nearly with the height at which you find ideal ski terrain in many parts of the world. Either there is a greater being in charge (and she is a wintersports fanatic) or we're incredibly lucky.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Reach for the sky
At times like these - that is to say when I'm in Europe and it's nearly 15 degrees centigrade warmer than normal, while in North America it's bucketing down with snow - my thoughts naturally turn to things like ski-lifts. Ski-lifts that go very high, mostly.
Some of these will remain just twinkles in Doppelmayr's eye - like the alleged concession to build a lift to the peak of the Matterhorn (4478m will do nicely, thankyou, though they'd need a fair bit of orange netting down the first 1500m of descent), while something like the Monterosa's Salati-Indren lift will be with us in a couple of seasons... maybe.
But uplift isn’t just about speed, efficiency and high-technology. It can be a charming, sometimes thrilling part of your mountain experience. Scary tin-cans on cables are the obvious contenders. Then there are the nostalgic sideways-chairs (you take your skis off, for this type, if you know what's good for your lower-limbs); sometimes they throw a rug over your knees, which can be quite scary in itself depending on who you're sharing with.
So here are some favourites - please add your own in the comments section.
Epic: Courmayeur's Cresta d’Arp and, on the Mont Blanc side, the entire Helbronner series of lifts
Quirky: Heiligenblut’s gondolas - through a tunnel in the mountain
Vintage: Punta Indren, Alagna and the classic bucket lift below; Kandersteg’s sideways double chairs, with awning, oilskin weather protection and sideways clunk-click-every-trip safety bars
Safety bars: an unexpected aspect to riding lifts in the US is that no-one likes to use the safety bars. Sometimes they don't even have them. Very strange in a land renowned for ambulance chasing lawyers, and disconcerting for anyone with a touch of vertigo. And if you think there's nothing to worry about, google 'chairlift, accident' for a bit of a fright.
Whatever you do, bar or no bar, just don't forget to get off...
Some of these will remain just twinkles in Doppelmayr's eye - like the alleged concession to build a lift to the peak of the Matterhorn (4478m will do nicely, thankyou, though they'd need a fair bit of orange netting down the first 1500m of descent), while something like the Monterosa's Salati-Indren lift will be with us in a couple of seasons... maybe.
But uplift isn’t just about speed, efficiency and high-technology. It can be a charming, sometimes thrilling part of your mountain experience. Scary tin-cans on cables are the obvious contenders. Then there are the nostalgic sideways-chairs (you take your skis off, for this type, if you know what's good for your lower-limbs); sometimes they throw a rug over your knees, which can be quite scary in itself depending on who you're sharing with.
So here are some favourites - please add your own in the comments section.
Epic: Courmayeur's Cresta d’Arp and, on the Mont Blanc side, the entire Helbronner series of lifts
Quirky: Heiligenblut’s gondolas - through a tunnel in the mountain
Vintage: Punta Indren, Alagna and the classic bucket lift below; Kandersteg’s sideways double chairs, with awning, oilskin weather protection and sideways clunk-click-every-trip safety bars
Safety bars: an unexpected aspect to riding lifts in the US is that no-one likes to use the safety bars. Sometimes they don't even have them. Very strange in a land renowned for ambulance chasing lawyers, and disconcerting for anyone with a touch of vertigo. And if you think there's nothing to worry about, google 'chairlift, accident' for a bit of a fright.
Whatever you do, bar or no bar, just don't forget to get off...
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