Improved lap times, greater distances covered, personal bests, participation in tougher events. Harder, faster, stronger, better. Ask any runner, biker, climber, swimmer, triathlete, yogi etc what their aims are for the year ahead and these are among the answers that you can expect to hear from those who are committed to their chosen sport.
As a skier, my own personal goal over the past couple of years has been to make the transition from piste skier to ski mountaineer. Don’t get me wrong – a resort skiing holiday is still an enormously attractive option. Spending time with friends in the fresh air, relentless consumption of gluhwein and crepes and when time is against you, crepes full of gluhwein can make for a more than entertaining week away. But for me and an increasing number of my peers, a shift is occurring. We want more.
To move outside the boundaries of the artificial world of lift accessed and prescribed pistes is a serious commitment. If you choose to go this way, you are literally venturing under the ropes and into the unknown.
Avalanche bulletins, seracs, transceivers, ABS bags, slope angles and kick turns all constitute part of a new language and culture that will surround you. Suddenly you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than just remembering to put your resort pass in your pocket before turning up at the lifts at the start of the day.
It’s a brutal unforgiving environment with no margin for error as has been brought to our attention most recently with the tragic deaths of two British skiers caught in avalanches in Val d’Isere. It is not so much a case of making sure you don’t get it slightly wrong but rather more, utterly imperative that you get it absolutely right. First time. Every time.
The word of course is how. A whole heap of them in fact. How do you know what lies beneath the surface and how can you make sure you get it right? How do you know what to do if you’re standing at the top of a slope that has slid and you have just 15 minutes to locate your friends before their chances of survival plummet to practically zero.
Essentially, how is it possible to explore beyond the boundaries and simultaneously minimize your personal exposure to natural risk? It was precisely my inability to reconcile these two seemingly opposing goals that led me to sign up for a 3.5 day AIARE Level 1 Avalanche Course in Chamonix last month.
That and the crazy weather conditions in the Alps so far this winter – knee deep powder in November and skiing in t-shirts in January would imply to me that there may be a touch of the irregularity in this season’s snowpack.
I found IFMGA/UIAGM mountain guide Jeff Banks’ course one evening, signed up straight away and the following evening I arrived in Chamonix equipped with my weapon of choice – curiosity. I came in search of some kind of rules, answers or guarantees that might help transform the seemingly unpredictable into something rather more understandable.
Control issues? Most definitely. But if they mean that my time spent on this earth is lengthened, then I embrace them. As may the pub and vineyard owners of France I might imagine…
The next 3.5 days were full. Fantastically full. A combination of class based and field based learning.
We analysed potential avalanche scenarios, learned to identify the different types of snow crystals and to understand their implication within the snow pack.
We watched sobering video footage of actual events, went outside to learn and practically apply the all important emergency rescue techniques. We went to the top of the mountain and ventured under the ropes to dig and analyze the different layers in the snowpack.
We even planned a tour and spent a day out of bounds putting our skills to the test without the input of our guides. I’d like to think our survival was down to excellent decision making, authoritative leadership, optimum route selection and coherent group behaviour. Joking aside, I think we did pretty well for novices actually and it was the perfect learning and empowering environment to put into practice what we’d been discussing over the previous days.
We really were out there ‘doing it’ safe in the knowledge that the calm and solid guides Jeff and Robbie were ever present should we have made any really ludicrous plans!
As the sun dipped behind Mont Blanc, I drove away from Chamonix with a huge grin on my face and a notepad jam packed with new info. And yes, I even left with several answers to the long list of ‘how’s that I’d rocked up with at the beginning of the weekend.
I had learned how to perform a Rutschblock test, how to measure the incline of a slope, how best to shovel snow so as to reach a victim as fast as possible and even how best to deal with a potentially tricky group member who might be putting the overall safety of the party in jeopardy.
While all of this is obviously incredibly important, by far and away the most valuable bit of information I learned over the course of the weekend was that there is actually not one skill, approach or piece of gear that is going to keep you alive in the mountains should you be dealt a sliding snow card.
Contrary to popular belief an expensive Avalung, the fanciest of transceivers, or the latest carbon probe are not going to make the key difference out there. They have their uses of course but are nothing more than unnecessary weight if you do not have one fundamental bit of kit in your backpack.
What I’m talking about right now is knowledge. Nowhere is Sir Francis Bacon’s ‘knowledge is power’ observation more applicable than in the world of avalanche prediction and avoidance. To best ensure your safety out there you need to be constantly asking questions of yourself, your group, and the environment that you’re in. If you continue to inquire, challenge and ask it will follow that you will learn and in so doing amass knowledge that will hopefully prolong your life.
So if like me, you’re finding yourself increasingly drawn towards the pursuit of powder and on the cusp of spanking a grand on an ABS bag because you think it makes you safe beyond bounds, I urge you to think again. Why not equip yourself with something worthwhile and sign up for an Avalanche Course instead?
By opting to invest in knowledge you’ll guarantee yourself a decent return and besides, no-one wants to have all the gear and no idea…
Sophie Nicholson, Sportsister
The Women’s Sports Magazine
Jeff Banks is an American mountain guide who lives in Colorado and Chamonix and runs the course
Avalanche Courses run by Jeff are official AIARE (American Institute for Avalanche Research and Education) accredited courses.
The AIARE website has further details: avtraining.org.
