Apology

So there I was, sitting in a lounge chair on a white-sand beach in the Bahamas when the thought struck me: I didn’t write a column for the week after Valentine’s. I had boarded a plane on Sunday and caught a boat on Tuesday and now it was Wednesday and I couldn’t enjoy the 70 degree temperatures, blue skies and the bluer water, because I hadn’t written 700 words about the outdoors. What was worse I couldn’t call or e-mail my editor to tell him I didn’t submit him a column yesterday. I’m sure he figured it out, but I still felt terrible. I sat up in my beach chair, stunned.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, I turned to my wife and said, “Honey, I forgot to write my column for yesterday’s deadline. Oh, and you’re starting to burn.” She groaned, flipped over to grill her back and replied, “Thanks for telling me. I was starting to feel pretty warm.” Then she added as consolation, “I’ll bet people start rioting because your column is missing this week.”
By the time we returned from tanning at the beach and checking out the beauty of the ocean in a glass-bottomed boat, I was beginning to realize that it wasn’t the end of the world. Well, at least for me. For some of you who wait with bated breath for each week’s new Wasatch Outside installment, it may have felt like the end of the world. Sorry, but we’re all over it, right?
Now that I’ve sufficiently pumped up my self-esteem imagining that people can’t live without my column, I’ll get down to business. It was interesting to leave a place where wintry activities are still in full swing and go to a place where summer sports are a year-round thing. The water in the Bahamas was still a little chilly for me, but many people had no problem hopping on a jet ski and blasting across the beachfront.
I’ll be honest: I wasn’t ready to enter the summer world just yet. I was secretly happy when that little groundhog saw his shadow and I knew winter would last another six weeks. I’m not done with the snow in the mountains, and the beaches and sun last week ended up just confusing my poor little landlubber brain. I’m sure many of you would have gladly switched places with me last week, but there is a time for everything, and winter needs its proper share of the year.
Visiting the Bahamas made me sad. No, sad’s not the word I want to use. The Bahamas made me yearn for the winter and snow that my vacation had attempted to cut short. My wife, on the other hand, was holding glass jars up toward the sun trying to capture as many rays as possible to take home with her.
The white sandy beaches reminded me of snow. The surfers and boogie boarders all looked like scantily clad snowboarders. Jet skis sounded like snowmobiles. I continually thought about how islands are really just the tops of mountains buried under water. I was hopeless. Thankfully, the vacation ended, and as I stepped off the airplane at Salt Lake International Airport, I remembered why I went on the trip in the first place: it’s pretty darn cold in Utah. There’s always a trade-off.
I hope nobody looted a store because I missed last week, but I’m back and ready to enjoy Utah’s outdoor winter activities some more. Til next week!

Snowmobiling Safety

When I was 10 years old, my family took a trip to Island Park in Idaho. My aunt and uncle, who were also there, owned four snowmobiles. I had never been snowmobiling before, so my cousin made sure I knew all the dangers of riding in the backcountry. He first told me a story about a snowmobiler who lost his head because he didn’t see a line of barbed wire fencing and ran into it going full speed. Then he told me about the rider who disappeared down an icy crevasse and was never seen again. He told me story after story, and with each horror story I wanted to go snowmobiling less and less.
I eventually did go snowmobiling, but I was so preoccupied with watching out for barbed wire and icy crevasses that I didn’t enjoy it all that much. I was riding with my dad and he constantly said stuff like, “Isn’t it beautiful out here, Gabe? It’s so quiet!” All I could think in response was, “Yeah, it’s quiet because everybody who comes out here gets their heads chopped off and falls down icy pits of death.”
At one point we reached a huge clearing and my dad allowed me to ride the snowmobile all by myself. Driving the machine solo gave me a sense of freedom and I began to enjoy myself and I started thinking, “It is beautiful out here. I could ride around forever.” And that’s when the crevasse appeared. My snowmobile dipped down and it took everything I had to jump backward off the machine to save myself from the abyss. I didn’t even think about jumping, I just went into instinct mode.
I landed on my back in the snow, my helmet protecting my head from cracking on the ground. Knowing I was safe for now, my thoughts turned to the snowmobile. “Oh no,” I thought, “a really expensive piece of machinery just went down a hole in the earth!” I quickly sat up and was confused with what I saw. The snowmobile was still above ground. It hadn’t been swallowed whole. But it was also still moving forward at a rapid pace.
I stood up to begin running after it, then I remembered the crevasse. Somehow the snowmobile had cleared the void, but I would have to run around it. I looked for a route around the crevasse, but in order to run around it, I would have to find it. As I searched for the pit that had appeared moments earlier, I found nothing. There was a slight dip in the snow right where the crevasse had materialized, but it didn’t look life threatening, so I hopped over it and began chasing the runaway snowmobile.
As a 10 year old I was a pretty fast runner, at least faster than most everyone in my class at school, but I didn’t think I could catch a snowmobile going 25-30 miles per hour. But I had to try. I was shocked and amazed when I realized I was gaining on it. And then its engine quit and it came to a complete stop. That’s when I looked down and saw the ignition key dangling from my wrist on a rope. Gotta love kill switches.
In addition to watching out for barbed wire at your neckline and crevasses (hey, you never know), you should be aware of a few other dangers while snowmobiling. Snowmobiles give you access to areas of the backcountry that are potentially very hazardous. Avalanches claim the lives of more snowmobilers every year than skiers, snowboarders and snowshoers. Utah State Parks recommends that snowmobilers never ride alone and that they wear an avalanche beacon and carry a shovel and probe. You can get current avalanche conditions by calling 1-800-OHV-RIDE.
Utah State Parks also recommends taking along extra maintenance gear, such as spark plugs, drive belts, a tool kit and a survival kit with a map, compass, flashlight, extra food, extra clothing, sunglasses, first aid kit, pocket knife, waterproof matches, and candles or fire starters. Watch your fuel supply carefully. The backcountry is not a place where you want to be stranded. A car isn’t going to pass by every hour or so. You may see an animal, but animals will either eat you or not help at all.
Wear a helmet, don’t drink and drive and make sure you dress appropriately. Believe it or not, shorts and a tank top are not appropriate snowmobiling clothing. Stay safe in the backcountry and avoid snowmobiling where you’re unsure of your safety. And watch out for those crevasses!

When Snow Attacks

If you’ve ever seen the Disney movie Mulan, you understand how to start an avalanche in order to sweep away an angry horde of invading Mongolians: fire a rocket at a nearby snow-covered mountain, preferably one that looks like the Matterhorn. If you haven’t seen the movie, know this: snow cannot hold back an angry horde of invading Mongolians. They pop out of the snow like daisies. By the way, I do not own any children (despite all of the tax breaks you supposedly get for them), but my wife makes up for that with her Disney movies.
Despite Disney’s penchant for reflecting reality, most people do not pop out of avalanche snow like daisies. Unfortunately, avalanches claim the lives of many people every year, whether skiing, snowboarding or even snowmobiling. It is important to understand the dangers of an avalanche and know what to do in order to survive in the event that you are caught up in one.
If I recall correctly (and I rarely do), there is a Warren Miller film in which a man is skiing down a steep mountainside and triggers an avalanche. (As a side note, Warren is much better at portraying reality than Disney.) Now what do you suppose the skier did? He simply rode that wave of snow like a surfer until he arrived at the bottom of the mountain. He disappeared from time to time on his wild ride, but always managed to surface again. The point is he tried to stay ahead of the snow, going the same direction as the avalanche. Had he turned to face it, he would have been quickly buried. Luckily for him, the avalanche wasn’t grown-up yet, it was just a baby and so he was able to easily deal with the powder coming down. So lesson #1: Go with the flow and ride those baby avalanches!
There is another film, which I cannot recall as correctly, but it involves an avalanche and a big silver bubble. I believe it is a James Bond film. Someone out there knows what I’m writing about. We’ll all just pretend like I’m 100% sure it’s a James Bond film. As the avalanche engulfs James, he pushes a button somewhere on his body, probably his watch, and a bubble inflates and creates a little sphere of protection amidst the rushing snow. I think the bubble comes fully outfitted with a female companion too. I’m not completely sure, but somehow James Bond always ended up with a woman inside of whatever he was trapped in. So lesson #2: Hire an inventor to make you an avalanche proof-bubble to keep you safe until help arrives, and make sure the bubble comes equipped with a man or woman, depending on preference, to keep you company while you wait.
I’m going to refer back to Mulan for the last lesson. Shoot rockets at the snow and you could start an avalanche. Touch the snow just right and you could start an avalanche. It’s pretty hard to tell whether snow on a mountain is waiting for a skier to enjoy its powder or ready to turn itself into a force to be reckoned with. So lesson #3: Learn to read a snowy mountainside’s moods, or just wait for Avalanche Control to come through with their rockets and knock the nasty stuff down for you!
And finally, lesson #4: Knowledge is power. Forget almost everything I just mentioned in the previous lessons. Movies are not always the best way to learn how to survive certain situations in life. I hope I’m not bursting anyone’s bubble here. If you do plan on enjoying the tranquility and beauty of the mountains, make sure you’re not going to wish you had hired that inventor to provide your anti-avalanche device. There are various websites that can provide you with information on avalanche conditions. Try http://utahavalanchecenter.org/education/faq for some good insight. For the most part, it is impossible to stay ahead of an avalanche. Avalanche snow can travel at speeds of 60-80 mph. Remember to “Know Before You Go,” as the Avalanche Control Center says, and avoid snow when it decides to attack.