Monday, January 31, 2011

Xavier Fournier





Xavier Fournier

Ever since I met Jojo she has been talking about her latest "work crush." I now know what she means. After the six day Cours des hors-piste et randonee, I am humbled to the greatest possible degree. Not by bravado or any inter-manly display of alpha-ness, but a display of patience, tolerance and persistence borne of the desire to make sure as many people survive the mountains as possible. A display of natural professionalism, a display of hospitality from a man who welcomed us into his home; the mountains. I now understand I have been but a visitor in these places, as much as I have loved them all my life. Yes, I have a work crush, though it is unlikely I will ever be in Xavier's line of work.

The mountains are big. Xavier is small.

This is a simple reality. All week as we gorged ourselves on the required information, like 13 Mr. Creosotes, Xavier did his best to teach us that learning and surviving means being simple. Thinking simple. Just to the left of this slope and up 75 meters or so, in 2008, the 18 yr. old cousin of our other guide (Jean Vincent) was swept into a terrain trap and buried 6 meters deep. There is a cross on the col for him.

Glacier de Grand Desert. Xavier on a snowboard.

On day 3 Xavier showed up with snowboard gear. We had scheduled a 6 hour tour, including 3 hours hours of ascending. Xavier snowboards about two times per season. However, one of the snowboard guys (Mr. Blunt) was looking to be in a little trouble, nearly unable to hack a 1 hour ascent on day 2. Xavier said if he were going to judge another man he would not do so without being in the same shoes. His plan was to show that being more organized was a suitable way to mitigate the physically demanding nature of snowshoeing in the mountains. Xavier proved to be as smooth and silky on a board as he is on skis and an absolute animal at ascending on any gear.

Mr Blunt

After our second lift ride on day 1. Mr. Blunt borrowed a screwdriver from a more prepared member of the group to remove his bindings and adjust his stance. I call him Mr Blunt because he lit up a gigantic blunt on the chairlift, trying to share it with us between practical sessions, then smoked the entire thing when he got no takers. The dude was the Kiwi incarnation of Jeff Spicoli. He spoke French like Spicoli, but Spicoli was a lot funnier and possibly smarter. On the morning of the 3rd day (the 6 hour tour), Mr. Blunt quit and left the group just before we started our 3 hour ascent. It was too bad, because he could have made it through the course, and he would have experienced some of the following...


On the Col de La Chaux, l-r summits = Petit Mt. Fort, Tête de Momin & Rosabanche. Our route is between Tête de Momin & Rosablanche --- Col de Momin.Grand Combin


Above Col de Momin
Another group having lunch, Mont Blanc and all the biggies behind


Also from our lunch spot, Glacier de Grand Desert, Petit Mt Calme, Rosablanche and some tiny people.


Grand Desert & Grand Mont Calme


Good night, I think I have about 3 blogs worth out of this course. More to come. I will get back to Xavier.










Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Dinner with a Champion





These skis won the Hahnenkamm. "Equipe Suisse" it says on the tails
And so did this boot!

The name of this post is funny, because the night at Caveau Collombin was funny. I put Jojo up to the task of actually speaking to Monsieur Collombin about maybe opening his private caveau for the Family Greene (and I) while Jojo's parents were in town. I am speaking French better, but didn't think I was doing good enough to convince a local boy of anything except that there is another foreigner in town who can't really speak the language. He didn't answer the phone, but he called back and said no. I wasn't too disappointed, because I am used to employing the "expect the worst and you'll never be disappointed" perspective. This, however, has been changing for me so I did feel a little pang. Evidently Collombin was off on a ski tour of the Grand 'Eteygeon or something. Besides, we only had 4 people, which just wasn't enough we guessed. Within a couple hours, my Swiss phone, which nobody knows the number for, except the people I was drinking wine and eating capon and chestnuts with, rang. It was Collombin. Another party had called and he was opening the caveau after all. We were in!

A couple nights later found us peering out the frosted windows of a tiny (by U.S. estimations) car trying to locate the caveau which had no sign or indicator that we knew of. It was a short drive, but none of us wanted to walk in the -10 temps, especially later on. Thankfully the narrow streets of Versegeres are few, and we figured we had found it when we saw a strangely large red lantern of some kind glowing on the wall up a narrower sidestreet. Sure enough, Roland Collombin greeted us when we decided to open the old wooden door I had to stoop through.

A trio of French skiers on the road through Europe because their snow at home had melted sat drinking wine at the little bar. Collombin's wife, Sara, immediately plied us with their Fendant (a white wine) and a plate of deeply colored and tender dried meat sliced so thin you could see through it (I didn't check if this were actually true, much to Jojo's relief I am sure). Soon the proprietors of a 5 star Verbier Chalet trooped in with an entourage in fur, leather, stilettos and carrying tiny scarf wearing dogs. Apparently, these folks are of actual royal lineage even! The place was officially hopping.

After some more talking and wine, Roland was "Racletting" and Sara was serving us all plates of Raclette and potato. Very good Raclette I might add. After dinner and dessert, we discovered the "ski tour" thing was a misunderstanding of communication. Roland had actually been on a booze run to Ticino, or Tessinois or some such place in Switzerland where more Italian is spoken. Late night beer runs to the corner store don't really seem so "core" to me anymore. Nobody ever brought back un-labeled bottles of Grappa and Walnut Wine (it was like a Port or Brandy, spicy and quite obviously fortified) from the corer store before. While Collombin was out smoking cigarettes, I took a few pictures.
One of his Hahnenkamm cups
Olympic Silver medal
Weltcup Schladming


It could have been the Walnut Wine, but I think I just wasn't ready for the photo. It's a good one of Monsieur Collombin though.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Ski Heroes


I have just moved to Verbier, Switzerland for the season to work here as a ski instructor. What a crazy development in life this is for me. After 26 years as a ski instructor in the Pacific Northwestern USA, which has been a good life, it feels like a new start here. I am reminded of my first few seasons at Mission Ridge, Washington. I always felt like I was skiing everywhere in the world all at once at Mission. The terrain and environment there is amazing for such a "small" place; an adventurous collection of rocky ridgelines full of chutes, thick woods and what seems like above treeline terrain - but isn't. Cold temperatures, dry snow, lots of sunshine and somewhat frequent windy conditions all combine to make Mission Ridge ski like a much bigger place somewhere else in the world - a lot like Verbier! Verbier covers a much larger area, but Mission Ridge and Verbier share so much when it comes to the environment, and, yes, vibe. But all this actually belongs in another post. Back to this topic another time.

Two nights ago I was drinking beer in a dark little place called the TBar - It is good to be back in my favorite bar. Stevens Pass locals will understand this, though the black melamine, UK bartenders and occasional European electronica track here don't truly take me back to our TBar. The name is enough. - Matthias, a German associate of mine, tells me about a great little "caveau" in the valley below which is an excellent evening experience, if you have the pull to get the proprietor to open it up. Matthias goes on to share the proprietor's name, Roland Collombin, and that he is also the owner of a Hahnenkamm trophy. I almost dropped my beer. Here is a link showing why the Hahnenkamm, in Kitzbühel, Austria is the most feared and prestigious downhill in the world.

The next day, I did some research about Roland Collombin. He not only won the Hahnenkamm ('74), but the Lauberhorn ('74) and the Olympic Downhill Silver medal ( Sapporo, 1972 ) when Switzerland 1- 2ed the Olympic DH podium - Bernhard Russi (1) and Roland Collombin (2).

In the 1973-74 season, Collombin had 6 consecutive World Cup DH podiums. In a career of 14 World Cup races he podiumed in 11, 8 wins & 3 - 2nds! 1 World Championship win for 1 start and 1 Olympic Silver for 1 start; Collombin lorded over the competition during his short career. Franz Klammer was often his second. Klammer won his second World Cup podium at Val d'Isere in December of 1974, after Collombin suffered a horrible crash during a training run - breaking his back and ending his 1974-75 season. The following season, on December 7, 1975 Roland suffered a second horrible crash at the same jump in Val d'Isere. This crash crushed several vertebrae and ended his active ski racing career.

Roland was born, raised and still lives here in the town of Versegères, a few minutes from the télécabine to Verbier. He is a national hero in Switzerland. I am going to try to have raclette in his caveau for sure.

...Continuing the Verbier/Mission Ridge comparison... Mission also has a rich history of local heroes. Though he is not a local boy, Bill Johnson trained at the Mission Ridge Ski Training Academy. Bill Johnson was the 1st male from the United States to win an Alpine Skiing Olympic Gold Medal. There was a day when everyone, a fan of skiing or not, had an immediate reaction to that name. Bill was... is... a controversial figure.

Bill Johnson also had a short but illustrious career. He won the Lauberhorn '84 in Wengen, the WC DH at Aspen '84 and in Whistler, BC '84. He had 4 world class downhill wins in 4 months. In 16 World Cup Starts Bill won 3 Podiums, all 1sts, 1 World Championship start, 1 Olympic Gold medal for 1 start; Sarajevo, 1984. After the 1984 season nagging back and knee injuries kept him off the podium, though he finished in the top 10 in a number of World Cup events. Years later, at the age of 40 Bill Johnson came out of retirement and staged a comeback, trying to qualify for the 2002 Olympic Games in Salt Lake City. Like Collombin, Johnson suffered a horrible crash, his at Big Mountain in Whitefish Montana. It ended his comeback attempt. He spent 3 weeks in a coma and to this day suffers from the effects of the crash.

To some it may seem like a stretch to compare these two champions. Many people refuse to consider Bill Johnson a champion or a hero. He has, over the years, had an incredible amount of bad press. Take a moment though, to consider that what he did for alpine skiing in the United States is easily comparable to what Collombin did for Switzerland's nation of proud skiers. Also take note of the human interest story/interview with Johnson in the Sarajevo '84 link above when Bill acknowledged he was not an athlete, just a guy who skied fast. He may have seemed disrespectful in some ways, but I think he knew the score. He respected the true athletes he competed against, their hard work, and dedication. He has always respected the sport of skiing in the most real way possible. His story was then and is now a story of triumph, success and achievement. Whether the success lies in a judge believing in another way to treat a young man on the wrong track, that young man changing his life, or more recently as he has struggled back from the death of his young son in 1992 and the terrible trauma he suffered trying to stage his comeback.

Back in 1984 Franz Klammer called Bill Johnson “a nosepicker” on international TV. Plenty of ski coaches and racers leveled insults at Johnson as a person, skier and competitor; especially during his short time at the top of the ski racing world. In looking for information on Johnson I am happy and surprised to find that there is quite a bit of positive copy to be found and fairly recent recognition. Part of the reason I began writing this blog was to illustrate that it is more difficult to really live as a skier in the United States. The skiing nation in the United States has made strides at home and not only abroad as a team of hard-working competitors, athletes and champions. I am not trying to credit Bill with all of it, but he certainly gets some.

I have a lot of ski heroes. Bill Johnson is one of them. Roland Collombin is too. I didn't expect to come here and discover new heroes, but I have a feeling I'll meet a few more while I am here. Like everything in life, heroes are what you make of them. Bill Johnson is my hero because of the things he did well, the things he did right, the way he believed enough in himself to stand up against all the challenges he faced, different though they were than Collombin's demons. Collombin is my hero because he was a natural who had a family that helped build him the opportunity to take it as far as he could go. He didn't seem to have any demons. He believed in himself enough to take it far beyond the edge, enough that once beyond the edge, he still believed. I can't help but wonder how different the history of ski racing might be had things been different, but they aren't, so we have Collombin's amazing, but short career to celebrate.

Collombin and Johnson disprove the assertion of one of my other controversial heroes... Hunter S. Thompson. He said:

"The Edge... There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. The others- the living- are those who pushed their luck as far as they felt they could handle it, and then pulled back..."

Collombin did not pull back. He kept going. He blew past the edge at high speed, dusted himself off and promptly did it again AND survived again. He knows things most of us don't. So does Bill Johnson. Hunter was right about there being no honest way to explain the edge. If Johnson or Collombin tried to explain it to us we simply could not understand. We would have to go over ourselves... and survive. Hunter was wrong when he said the only ones who have gone over the edge were no longer among the living. This perspective could have been useful to the man.

Collombin remains one of Switzerland's golden boys and is well-respected as a champion throughout the skiing world. He didn't give the muckrakers a lot of copy like Johnson and Bode Miller seem to have done. Europe's skiing heroes are not completely insulated from bad press, though. Last year's Swiss Golden Boy, Didier Defago, who was injured early this World Cup season and is out for the remainder, is suffering some bad press here. Instead of posting any of that I will post this cool video of Didier which delivers a message of mutual respect between different factions of the competetive ski industry. Besides the mountains and the great skiing, the coolest thing about being here is the mutual respect mountain riders have for each other here. It's all just "skiing." There is a lot of competition for work in Verbier. There are many ski schools in the village. The competition does not seem to create adversity between us all as individuals or skiers... except for, troublingly, the ONE OTHER U.S. citizen I have met here in town! Go figure.

Thanks for reading, and bear with me if you will. I am new at this.

Stan