In the spring of 2015, we began another pursuit for big lines and wild fish. Once again, our direction was north to Alaska, just as it was 3 years ago on our first trip to capture steelhead and spines. Since then, our burning desire to explore around the next bend, to see what's on the other side of the mountain, has grown to an inextinguishable level. We found ourselves back in a corner of southeast Alaska where for a few months of the year, some of the steepest, fluted lines in the world can be ridden, while chromed out steelhead run up and down the coastal rivers. This is the place for us to step outside the bubble of modern society, and into a world of our own making, where skiing and fishing and camping is everything. We returned home with these images, and memories of battling storms and mountains on the glacier and of an island where pure fish swim beneath the old growth hemlocks.
Showing posts with label Skiing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Skiing. Show all posts
Steelhead and Spines - Volume Two
In the spring of 2015, we began another pursuit for big lines and wild fish. Once again, our direction was north to Alaska, just as it was 3 years ago on our first trip to capture steelhead and spines. Since then, our burning desire to explore around the next bend, to see what's on the other side of the mountain, has grown to an inextinguishable level. We found ourselves back in a corner of southeast Alaska where for a few months of the year, some of the steepest, fluted lines in the world can be ridden, while chromed out steelhead run up and down the coastal rivers. This is the place for us to step outside the bubble of modern society, and into a world of our own making, where skiing and fishing and camping is everything. We returned home with these images, and memories of battling storms and mountains on the glacier and of an island where pure fish swim beneath the old growth hemlocks.
Wasatch P.o.v. and follow cams - 14/15 Winter
Here we have some P.o.v. footage from last season in Utah. Enjoy!
Warren Miller's 66th film - Chasing Shadows
As a kid growing up on the east coast, the Warren Miller films always got me dreaming of bigger and better mountains in the west. All the ski and snowboard movies i watched in those days had a huge impact on my life. When my Pop moved to Utah in 1999, there was no question that my brothers and i would soon follow.
This past winter my brother Ian and i had the opportunity to show the Warren Miller crew around the UT backcountry for their 66th film "Chasing Shadows". Utah had been experiencing a rough winter at the time with a pretty marginal snowpack. One of the best storms of the season happened to roll through right when they showed up. We spent a week walking around the Wasatch with legend Tom Day and his son Danny riding some classic terrain in great condition.
Link to 2015 film tour- www.skinet.com/warrenmiller/film-tour
This past winter my brother Ian and i had the opportunity to show the Warren Miller crew around the UT backcountry for their 66th film "Chasing Shadows". Utah had been experiencing a rough winter at the time with a pretty marginal snowpack. One of the best storms of the season happened to roll through right when they showed up. We spent a week walking around the Wasatch with legend Tom Day and his son Danny riding some classic terrain in great condition.
Link to 2015 film tour- www.skinet.com/warrenmiller/film-tour
A higher level of fitness
When it comes to reaching your fitness goal, steps are just the beginning. Fibit tracks every part of your day - including activity, exercise, food, weight and sleep
- to help find your fit, stay motivated and see how small steps make a big difference.
www.Fitbit.com
Disclosure: Compensation was provided by Fitbit via Mode Media.
The opinions expressed herein are those of the author and are not indicative of the opinions or positions of Fitbit.
Mountain travel isn't the easiest way to exercise, but it sure is fun. It takes time to adjust to the harsh environments and logistics when compared to the comforts of a nice indoor gym! I've always known how important it is to stay strong and in good shape for the sports that I love, but the idea of a typical gym setting to achieve that makes me cringe. With a seasonal passion like splitboarding and snowboarding, I've had to find different ways to stay in shape during the off-season. The combination of hiking, backpacking, biking and climbing provide me with all the activity I need to be strong when the snow starts to fly.
The more you push your limits, the longer you can stay outside doing what you love, no matter what the sport may be.
I've been using the Fitbit Surge to track my exercises out on the splitboard this winter. It has proven to be super useful to see what actually happens in terms of statistics while out hiking, something I've never really been able to see. Everything from heart rate to distance traveled, elevation gain and calories burned. Day after day, you can track your output and see how your body is changing with time in regards to cardio strength and stamina. I was blown away to see how may calories I was burning on an average ski tour. I've since adjusted the amount of food I bring, and try to eat on an hourly schedule to keep my calorie intake matched to what I'm burning. Being able to visually see how many calories I'm burning has been a huge help in keeping my energy levels up, to avoid the dreaded "crash"!
With the GPS tracking I have the ability to see a summary of these stats and review my route afterward on the phone app or computer. This paints a perfect picture of where I'm at physically, and where I want to be in the future. It can be difficult to see your progress when it comes to sports like splitboarding and mountain hiking in general. Using this watch I'll have a much better idea of how to improve my fitness while keeping track of it as the seasons change.
Snowboarding from the top of Hayden Peak
Hayden Peak is a rather iconic mountain in the Uintas of northeastern Utah. It marks the western boundary of the main core of the range, where the peaks get high and rugged. We’ve spent a decade exploring the range, and the potential for first ski and snowboard descents off the highest peaks in Utah is real.
My Brother Ian and I have skied numerous lines on the Hayden massif over the years, but never from the top. Last May, Ian spotted a line and we just had to see if it would go. We had ourselves a full value experience on the mountain that day, linking up 2 staggering couloirs from the summit. I wonder if we were the first to ride Hayden Peak from the top? Regardless, this is our proudest Uinta line yet.
Snowboarding from the top of Hayden Peak from The Provo Bros on Vimeo.
"What kind of Meat?" -Fly fishing in the jungles of Bolivia
A fly-fishing journey to the Bolivian Amazon. We wanted to experience the rawness of the jungle in the richest ecosystem on earth, to have a primordial connection with nature that for us, is best achieved through exploration with a fly rod. Our Tsimané guides brought us into their jungle, back in time to a lost world of primitive living, giving us the opportunity to catch a Golden Dorado, one of the most possessed fish that swims. The Amazon wilderness holds many mysteries, but we found out for ourselves that the real treasures of the jungle live beneath the canopy, and swim through its pristine rivers. From the lowland tropics to the high altitudes of the Cordillera, our fly-fishing trip became more of a lesson in the immense diversity of Bolivia's landscapes and people. We invested everything we had, but came home feeling rich with new knowledge and experiences that are now priceless.
If you're interested in an expedition style fly-fishing trip to the headwaters of the Bolivian Amazon,
you must contact our friends Patrick Taendler and Federico Marancenbaum from Santa Cruz.
They shared with us their passion and enthusiasm for Golden Dorado, and there is no way in hell we could have done it without them! Angling Frontiers
What kind of Meat -Trailer
What kind of Meat? - trailer from The Provo Bros
In August of 2013, we traveled to Bolivia. It was the craziest place we've ever been! This remote country has been on our radar ever since we became obsessed with riding mountains and fly-fishing, but it always seemed untouchable. All we wanted to do was catch a big Golden Dorado on the fly in a jungle choked, Amazonian headwater stream, but the trip evolved into something much greater. With the help of our friends Patrick Taendler, Federico Marancenbaum, and The Green Forrest lodge at Caño Negro, we had a rare opportunity to fish for a grand slam in the Amazon, and prepare monkeys for dinner on an open fire. To complete the adventure, we traveled into the Cordillera Real to the source of the river, reaching the highest point we've ever been, and shredded back down. A trip to remember.
Roadside Runs in Alaska- Provo Bros
Roadside runs in Alaska from The Provo Bros on Vimeo.
In the spring of 2013, my brother Ian and I made it back to Alaska for the second time in our lives. We returned with a much better understanding of the dynamics of riding up there and hopes of safe snow conditions. After spending 10 days glacier camping by plane in the Tordrillo Mountains with clear weather and stable snow, we were excited to see what the mountains outside of Anchorage had to offer. For $25 a day, we rented a small car for a week and headed for the hills. The amount of quality ski terrain accessible from the road was mind blowing. Every winding corner presented a new mountain for us, and a new challenge. With a bit of an optimistic eye, long hikes and tricky route finding, we found ourselves on top of some of the craziest roadside runs we’d ever ridden.
This is Backcountry
This is Backcountry. Here, blood meets rock, sweat meets trail, and the well-worn path to a routine existence reaches its terminus. This is an invitation to feed your wanderlust, to rediscover the spark inside you and feel the strain of your muscles against the forces of nature. Every second is about action—it's gas and a match fed to grit and determination. Take a glimpse, and then take another — we get it, and this is what we call #goatworthy
For all of your outdoor needs, visit Backcountry.com
For all of your outdoor needs, visit Backcountry.com
Outdoor Research Tiny House Tour- Season 2, Episode 4 | British Columbia Pillows
There is the discovery, when your eyes catch the first glimpse of a pillow line. Your mind quickly assesses the fun factor, believing how easy it will be to effortlessly drop from one marshmallow cloud to the next. Why wouldn't you ski these pillows? You start hiking. At the top, the world looks a bit different. Disorientation follows, as you realize you have no idea where those inviting little puffs actually live. They seem to have crept away leaving you standing with only a visual of the flat snow at the bottom. But you decide to drop in because you've got a feeling that this is something you can do, something that you'll love. You trust the pillows and your ability to make just enough contact with your skis that it counts, but not enough to stop the momentum in the graceful pillow line pseudo fall.
The moment when you point your skis downwards a flash image of the line appears in your mind. One pseudo-turn. Oooh, nice snow—this is going to be memorable. Then, maybe a jolt or two? A face shot mid-line? A flat landing at the bottom? And then it's over. You can't recall every detail of the line. Maybe you can't remember any at all. But the dream state is still with you. Just as it should be, because skiing isn't about overanalyzing. Once you've decided to ski a pillow line, it's see it, feel it, and go.
Words by Molly Baker
Outdoor Research Tiny House Tour- Season 2, Episode 3 in Utah
Every moment in the mountains lends an opportunity to learn. A lifetime education awaits those willing to explore, watch, and listen. And sometimes we meet purveyors of the knowledge, people who have made it their intention to understand the intricacies of the snow, and share what they've learned about the many varieties of a snowflake. These snow aficionados are our greatest educators, devoted to dissecting the element that brings skiers life and death simultaneously.
The tiny house arrived in Utah at the beginning of a storm cycle that would invigorate the mountain community with pow turns, while burying a weak layer in the snowpack that would require trepidation in the backcountry. In the two weeks the tiny house lived in Utah, many slides were seen and experienced by skiers and snowboarders across the Wasatch. Instead of playing their usual roles in this act, they became the audience and learned from a friend of the Utah Avalanche Center, Trent Meisenheimer, a passionate snow safety ambassador who grew up at the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon.
Following Trent and his father Bruce (a man who should be put in the Ski-Loving Father Hall of Fame) into the special ski stashes of the Cottonwoods (yes, they still exist), the OR team investigated their own capacity to learn and re-learn what they already thought they knew. You're never too experienced in the backcountry. And there is always something new to digest.
“Education is the process of living, not preparation for the future.”
Click the link above for smokin' deals on backcountry.com right now!
Outdoor Research Tiny House Tour- Season 2, Episode 2
Words from Molly Baker-
All of us have mountains and lines that beckon to us every day, every season, every turn—Giants that loom in the periphery of our memory and thoughts. These monoliths sleep in our wildest dreams. And sometimes they creep slowly, after years of hoping and wanting, into our reality. These lines turn into days of our life that we’ll never forget. They trump weddings, graduations, and other celebrations because they represent an achievement that others can’t understand unless they spent that day with you, saw you make those turns, and felt what it was like to be in those places. These mountains and lines are officiators of greatness, if only in our own psyche. But they signify greatness that you’ll never forget (and may never surpass) because being invited into the wild by a mountain is like heaven’s doors opening for your welcome.
This December we were called into the living room of one of our favorite peaks, a mansion that stoops over our existence every day we’ve ever skied in Washington’s North Cascades. Each time we’ve ventured into the threshold of this esteemed range, we’ve cautiously dusted off our shoes at the door hesitantly asking, “Are you sure?” But the mountain has been a gracious host. Polite and accommodating, serving up everything we’d hoped for as an intimidated guest.
On our 15-hour mission in December, the gates opened with an honest certainty. Snow stability and freshness we’re expected as we climbed the nearly 7,000 vertical feet to the summit. After skiing that same distance in warm sunlight, but cold crystallized powder, back down to the valley floor, we were only half way done with the mission. We still had to go home. We still had to get back to the tiny house two drainages and another climb away. Our day and night we’re not over.
Invitations can be just like that. You can’t make assumptions based on your R.S.V.P. The party might go on for longer than you’d hoped. And mountains are surprising hosts, often temperamental. But, sometimes they let you slip out the back door, going unnoticed, like the quiet guest who sat in the corner, barely uttering a sound, but soaking in all the glorious sounds, smells, and sights, of people enjoying the time that they are alive.
Outdoor Research Tiny House Tour- Season 2, Episode 1
When 100 trees fell in December closing highway 542 to leading Mt Baker Ski Resort, We all felt pretty lucky to be in position ready to slay the untouched pow. Episode 1 - stay tuned for more coming soon from Outdoor Research
Words from Molly Baker:
Everyone wants to be the all-sacrificing powder hound, vagabonding from storm to storm, with no possessions, a bank devoid of money, but full of powder turns. In some places, we know true ski bums. People who don’t have cars, jobs, friends on powder days, or houses (or at least houses that don’t live in trees).
We know Ben Price.
A true specimen, and maybe one of the last of his kind, Ben lives deep, deep in the Cascade Mountains, living out of his tree house, a map of the peaks engrained in his mind, and more of a dedication to making turns and finding adventure than anyone you’ll meet in the mountains these days. And he does it because of one reason…wait for it…because he wants to.
Before the days of the glory and fame of the vibrant, mowhaked professional skier of the 90’s to the energy drinking XGames youth of today, there were local heroes, people who skied because of the freedom and counter-culture found in the mountains. There was some risk involved in this—giving up everything to find solace in the powder. Comforts were gone, but enlightenment was found by the skiers living in the parking lot on the periphery of what was normal.
As a snow loving community we’ve come full circle and today we’re all looking for that kind of hero. We need to draw inspiration from something unfamiliar, someone not constructed in the minds of a marketing team, but from a genuine icon—a legendary ski bum. We’re looking for Ben Price.
We found him in Washington this December and parked our tiny house in his kingdom, following this splitboarding cowboy to the last frontier. Unexplored mountains and unknown pillow lines were found. And we also discovered that in the world of ski bums there’s everyone else and then there’s Ben Price (a true snow loving freak who would hate us if he knew we put him on the Internet).
Words from Molly Baker:
Everyone wants to be the all-sacrificing powder hound, vagabonding from storm to storm, with no possessions, a bank devoid of money, but full of powder turns. In some places, we know true ski bums. People who don’t have cars, jobs, friends on powder days, or houses (or at least houses that don’t live in trees).
We know Ben Price.
A true specimen, and maybe one of the last of his kind, Ben lives deep, deep in the Cascade Mountains, living out of his tree house, a map of the peaks engrained in his mind, and more of a dedication to making turns and finding adventure than anyone you’ll meet in the mountains these days. And he does it because of one reason…wait for it…because he wants to.
Before the days of the glory and fame of the vibrant, mowhaked professional skier of the 90’s to the energy drinking XGames youth of today, there were local heroes, people who skied because of the freedom and counter-culture found in the mountains. There was some risk involved in this—giving up everything to find solace in the powder. Comforts were gone, but enlightenment was found by the skiers living in the parking lot on the periphery of what was normal.
As a snow loving community we’ve come full circle and today we’re all looking for that kind of hero. We need to draw inspiration from something unfamiliar, someone not constructed in the minds of a marketing team, but from a genuine icon—a legendary ski bum. We’re looking for Ben Price.
We found him in Washington this December and parked our tiny house in his kingdom, following this splitboarding cowboy to the last frontier. Unexplored mountains and unknown pillow lines were found. And we also discovered that in the world of ski bums there’s everyone else and then there’s Ben Price (a true snow loving freak who would hate us if he knew we put him on the Internet).
Steelhead and Spines- The Provo Bros
Steelhead and Spines- The Provo Bros from The Provo Bros on Vimeo.
Our addiction to mountains and rivers has always had us looking north to Alaska, where big fish and mountains existed on a level we had only experienced in our dreams. As the winter of 2012 continued to disappoint in the lower 48, it was obvious that Alaska was being buried in snow. It seemed like the time was right, that maybe after 10 years of "practice" in Utah, we were ready for our journey north. We hit the road in March, putting everything we had into our first and for all we knew, our last adventure to Alaska, with two things on our mind, steelhead and spines.We joined forces with three of our friends from Utah, for a ski-plane assisted camping expedition in the heart of south eastern Alaska's backcountry. Over 50 miles by wing from the nearest road, our pilot dropped the 5 of us off on a big lonely glacier encircled by jagged mountains, and in the spirit of adventure, wished us good luck. We would need it. From that point on, the feeling of being completely alone in a wild and unknown land for the first time in our lives penetrated every cell in our bodies. Only one person in our group had ever been to Alaska, Chris Coulter. On day 8 when he suddenly left to work in Haines as a heli guide, the feeling of isolation crept deeper into our minds, and it had never felt so good.
We chose to do this trip without any guides, plans, itineraries, or rules simply because we wanted to have our own experience. We wanted it to be raw, unknown, and we wanted it to be an adventure. Of course the style we chose made things much more difficult for us than they could have been, but the feeling of accomplishment was immense. We found glorious spines to ride, and stumbled upon one of the best runs of wild Steelhead in the world. Returning home safely from our first journey to Alaska signified a successful mission, along with the wonderful new memories from the greatest riding and fishing experiences of our lives.
First turns for 2012-2013 season- October 24th
Just like that, old man winter opened the door and flipped the switch. A solid storm came in on October 23rd and skipped over the southern end of the Wasatch, but absolutely pounded up north at Powder Mountain . We headed up early the next morning to find ourselves submerged in mid winter, over the head conditions. A complete opposite to the days prior on the river!
From dirt and rock to this in a matter of 1 day. Ian provo photo^
Ian getting a face full of october blower! what a day...
get ready for the season with good deals from backcountry.com!
get ready for the season with good deals from backcountry.com!
Steelhead & Spines trip report on Orvis News
Originally posted on the orvisnews.com blog. HUGE thanks goes out to The Orvis Company for making the best rods on earth! Here is a write up my brother Ian did that gives you a good idea about our trip to AK and back.
My brother Neil and I had talked about going to Alaska for many years, but the idea to combine fishing and skiing in one trip was kind of new to us. For two diehard ski and fish bums, it seemed like the trip of a lifetime, and the perfect way to see Alaska for the first time. You can only talk about doing something for so long before the urge to bring it to reality becomes too much. We reached that point, and for the first time in our lives we could make this trip happen. By doing everything on our own, it was obvious we were in for a big learning experience and perhaps more failure than success. Without guides, or planned itineraries, the rawness of the adventure was left completely intact. For us, it was important to experience these new mountains and rivers from the ground up, and it didn't matter if someone had done it before or done something greater, because this was going to be our adventure.
For 18 days, we lived on a glacier, 50 miles by plane from the nearest anything, with a couple of our buddies from Utah who were also looking for their first Alaskan experiences. We got plenty of those. From the moment our pilot, Drake, set his plane down till the day he arrived to bring us home, the feeling of being totally isolated and alone for the first time in my life never left my thoughts for a moment. We slowly worked our way into the greatest mountains any of us had ever seen, battling the weather and snow, avalanches, and our own minds. Coming off the glacier, our crew smelling like a massive pile, we knew we had done some things wrong, but we did a lot of things right, and that was certainly something to be proud of. After the mentally and physically exhausting glacier expedition, it was a great relief to finally set our sights on the water. But knowing absolutely nothing about steelhead fishing or where we would go, the anxiety and uncertainty quickly returned. It was very clear to us that if there was going to be any "Steelhead & Spines" concept, well than one of us had better land a fish on this trip, and it should probably be a good one. We decided to fish a river not far from our base camp in Haines, in Southeast Alaska. But like most good adventures up here, this one had to start out with a bush plane. Once again, we found ourselves flying with Drake through the nastiest mountains our eyes have ever seen; it was hard to believe we were going fishing. When we landed in the small fishing village of Yakutat, there were still a two-meter snowpack at sea level. Some of the locals told us not to be afraid of the brown bears who were waking up, but rather to watch out for the moose in the river that will run your ass down. For three days, we drifted our raft down through the thick cover, camping wherever we could find a dry spot to pitch our tent. We picked the brains of some hardcore steelheaders, and with that knowledge we were able to develop our own technique.
On the first day, we had a bite, and on the second day Neil stuck our first steelhead after thousands of casts. It was, at that point, the biggest fish of his life. It was coming together for us, and we were learning about the style. On the third day, gear soaked from 36 hours of nonstop rain, our morale was low, but we continued to put a fly in every hole. Once again, Neil was on the rod when it got bent for the second time of the trip. After only five casts through a beautifully undercut and sticky sweeper, the fish we were dreaming about was on. After this fish was released, we had never felt more accomplished. Coming to Alaska, we had only two goals, ride the line and catch the fish of our lives. It didn't matter if only one of us achieved each goal, because we were working as a team and none of the goals would have been reached without the help of each other. The Steelhead & Spines mission was complete, and we began the long drive home knowing that we had the most Alaskan experience we could have ever hoped for. After finally being exposed to this great land, it will be impossible for us to ignore the desire to return.
Winter's around the bend, head over and swoop up the smokin deals from the link below
My brother Neil and I had talked about going to Alaska for many years, but the idea to combine fishing and skiing in one trip was kind of new to us. For two diehard ski and fish bums, it seemed like the trip of a lifetime, and the perfect way to see Alaska for the first time. You can only talk about doing something for so long before the urge to bring it to reality becomes too much. We reached that point, and for the first time in our lives we could make this trip happen. By doing everything on our own, it was obvious we were in for a big learning experience and perhaps more failure than success. Without guides, or planned itineraries, the rawness of the adventure was left completely intact. For us, it was important to experience these new mountains and rivers from the ground up, and it didn't matter if someone had done it before or done something greater, because this was going to be our adventure.
For 18 days, we lived on a glacier, 50 miles by plane from the nearest anything, with a couple of our buddies from Utah who were also looking for their first Alaskan experiences. We got plenty of those. From the moment our pilot, Drake, set his plane down till the day he arrived to bring us home, the feeling of being totally isolated and alone for the first time in my life never left my thoughts for a moment. We slowly worked our way into the greatest mountains any of us had ever seen, battling the weather and snow, avalanches, and our own minds. Coming off the glacier, our crew smelling like a massive pile, we knew we had done some things wrong, but we did a lot of things right, and that was certainly something to be proud of. After the mentally and physically exhausting glacier expedition, it was a great relief to finally set our sights on the water. But knowing absolutely nothing about steelhead fishing or where we would go, the anxiety and uncertainty quickly returned. It was very clear to us that if there was going to be any "Steelhead & Spines" concept, well than one of us had better land a fish on this trip, and it should probably be a good one. We decided to fish a river not far from our base camp in Haines, in Southeast Alaska. But like most good adventures up here, this one had to start out with a bush plane. Once again, we found ourselves flying with Drake through the nastiest mountains our eyes have ever seen; it was hard to believe we were going fishing. When we landed in the small fishing village of Yakutat, there were still a two-meter snowpack at sea level. Some of the locals told us not to be afraid of the brown bears who were waking up, but rather to watch out for the moose in the river that will run your ass down. For three days, we drifted our raft down through the thick cover, camping wherever we could find a dry spot to pitch our tent. We picked the brains of some hardcore steelheaders, and with that knowledge we were able to develop our own technique.
On the first day, we had a bite, and on the second day Neil stuck our first steelhead after thousands of casts. It was, at that point, the biggest fish of his life. It was coming together for us, and we were learning about the style. On the third day, gear soaked from 36 hours of nonstop rain, our morale was low, but we continued to put a fly in every hole. Once again, Neil was on the rod when it got bent for the second time of the trip. After only five casts through a beautifully undercut and sticky sweeper, the fish we were dreaming about was on. After this fish was released, we had never felt more accomplished. Coming to Alaska, we had only two goals, ride the line and catch the fish of our lives. It didn't matter if only one of us achieved each goal, because we were working as a team and none of the goals would have been reached without the help of each other. The Steelhead & Spines mission was complete, and we began the long drive home knowing that we had the most Alaskan experience we could have ever hoped for. After finally being exposed to this great land, it will be impossible for us to ignore the desire to return.
Winter's around the bend, head over and swoop up the smokin deals from the link below
STEELHEAD & SPINES- 2012 trip to Alaska
From the first time i strapped into a snowboard 16 years ago till this day, Alaska has been the ultimate dreamland in my mind. living in Connecticut in the late 90's watching old shred films with huge mountains and deep snow, i knew i wanted to live my life out west. After this last decade of amazing winters in Utah, my brother Ian and i agreed it was time for us to explore further north then we had ever been before. This spring we are taking our camper, skis, snowboards, and fly rods on a road trip up through the interior of BC up to Haines Alaska. The ultimate destination as a skier, snowboarder and fly fisherman.
After some pillow mashing in BC on our journey north, we plan to meet with Chris Coulter, Zack Clanton, Tony Pavlantos, and the Caldwell Bros to set off on what will be the craziest snowboard mission in my life! We'll be taking a prop plane high into the alpine where we'll set up camp, and pick off spine lines for 3 weeks. Really looking forward to my first AK experience, who knows, maybe i can even get in a heli! More to come on the expedition side of things...
When the skiing and snowboarding come to an end, the next passion in life will take over- Fly fishing. The coastline of AK and BC is not only dream spot for snowboarding, but equally so for fly fishing. In hopes of hooking our first wild steelhead on the fly, Ian and i will make our way south of alaska into some of the best rivers on the planet. Watermaster boats, big fish rods, new flies, and new techniques are sure to make for some exciting new experiences on the water.
http://www.orvisnews.com/FlyFishing/The-Start-of-a-Great-Adventure.aspx
We are excited to be working with Backcountry.com, Orvis, Outdoor Research, Voile and Smith Optics on this project. Stay tuned!
After some pillow mashing in BC on our journey north, we plan to meet with Chris Coulter, Zack Clanton, Tony Pavlantos, and the Caldwell Bros to set off on what will be the craziest snowboard mission in my life! We'll be taking a prop plane high into the alpine where we'll set up camp, and pick off spine lines for 3 weeks. Really looking forward to my first AK experience, who knows, maybe i can even get in a heli! More to come on the expedition side of things...
When the skiing and snowboarding come to an end, the next passion in life will take over- Fly fishing. The coastline of AK and BC is not only dream spot for snowboarding, but equally so for fly fishing. In hopes of hooking our first wild steelhead on the fly, Ian and i will make our way south of alaska into some of the best rivers on the planet. Watermaster boats, big fish rods, new flies, and new techniques are sure to make for some exciting new experiences on the water.
http://www.orvisnews.com/FlyFishing/The-Start-of-a-Great-Adventure.aspx
We are excited to be working with Backcountry.com, Orvis, Outdoor Research, Voile and Smith Optics on this project. Stay tuned!
Outdoor Research- Sidecountry Sessions Episode 5 Rodgers Pass to Jackson
Link to VIDEO on Teton Gravity
The ups and downs of traveling with the Tiny House. From Rodgers pass to Jackson Hole, blown tires and blower pow!
Outdoor Research- Sidecountry Sessions Episode 4 Whitewater BC
Link to VIDEO on Teton Gravity
Words by Molly Baker
When you find a place that’s good, stay there. The ski dream tells you that traveling from snowy destination to winter wonderland is the guaranteed way to find powder. Yes, you may see the world of ski areas and communities. Just make sure you’re there long enough to enjoy a few storm cycles. Once you’re out of the pattern it becomes more and more effortless to miss this storm or that one. For the tiny house and crew, driving away from Whitewater before a 70-centimeter cycle was our pattern mistake.
We may have not skied the best day in five years at Whitewater, but we did meet all the folks who would once we left. One of those folks was local patroller, Orry Grant, otherwise known as OG. A blonde hair, blue-eyed, hiking-machine, and unassuming bad-ass, Mr. Grant is without a doubt skiing powder at this very moment, regardless of what moment you are reading this. As a patroller and member of the avalanche control crew for Kootenay Pass, the Nelson native breathes ski-lifer.
Orry Grant embodies Kootenay mountain culture being born in Nelson, living in Revelstoke for years, and knowing the nooks and crannies of the best ski zones in the Koots. Coincidentally, one of our first impressions of the OG was in Kootenay Mountain Culture, a beautifully designed magazine that pays homage to the people, places, and centimeters that make BC a skier’s heaven. The Kootenays are a blessed place. For people like Orry Grant, that place is home.
Choosing Orry was really just another gift for the tiny house crew. We missed the major, epic storm, but we got to feel like we were helping make things happen for the Whitewater local. With a recent G3 sponsorship and a spot on the ambassador program for OR, Orry’s life just became that much more entrenched in the world of skiing. And for that, the skiing community should feel grateful.
A smile goes a long way. Orry’s kind demeanor and smiles (plus his assistance as a patroller) will undoubtedly keep many people out there skiing. It will definitely bring us back to Whitewater. That and the hopes of hitting the storm we missed.
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