Word Count 1413

Giving New Meaning to the term,

“Ice-Covered-Cliffs”

For me, life should be a series of amazing adventures (usually memorable for one reason or the other…). The 2021 Birds-of-Prey World Cup Ski Races were just such a series of amazing adventures, and all because of a singular change from past BOP-volunteer experiences. This year was different because of the fact that I wanted to do more than the previous three gigs. In past years, I just carried out the odyssey as a course security person, while this go-round had me getting up on the mountain as a full-blown member of one of the hill preparation crews. A bit more actual labor for sure, but I happen to be one of those ambitious types who isn’t afraid of a bit of hard work. Scary when you think about it isn’t it?

Past experience has shown me that this work thing makes for a more exciting adventure in a lot of cases.  I guess that’s why I keep doing it that way. Some folks would prefer to go in the opposite direction and try to avoid additional work. Then again, as most folks that know me can attest, I’m not like most folks.  2021 BOP didn’t disappoint in that respect.

Right off the bat, things were different from past years in that I drove up to Beaver Creek the Friday after Turkey Day (Nov. 25th). That had me arriving a full four days before most of the other BOP volunteers. Got on one of the hill preparation crews and those first two days involved all sorts of interesting jobs. Everything from spraying water on the race course, to tying down safety netting right off what is often referred to as, “The Brink”. The first time I ever encountered “The Brink” four years ago it totally intimidated me. Incredibly steep and some folks wouldn’t be considered overly exaggerating if they said it looks and feels like a veritable ice-covered cliff. I remember distinctly the initial thought that popped into my head, Guy’s actually race down this?” Then again, this id after all, World Cup Ski Racing.

The Brink happens to be first big pitch on the race course, and all these years later it wasn’t quite as intimidating, but still somewhat scary. Some perspective, almost as steep as most of the vertical landscapes you’ll encounter in Yosemite Valley, but “The Brink” it has rock-hard snow since the white stuff has been packed down, buffed out, and smoothed to a granite counter-top-like finish. Looking at the course from this vantage point, it also gave me a new-found respect for all these World Cup Ski racers. Either that, or in the back of my mind I’d developed a sneaking suspicion that some of these guys (& girls…) have this weird Masochistic Death-Wish going on in their heads.

Maybe the fact that the pitch wasn’t quite as intimidated to me as it had been in the past led to the big mistake of this year’s BOP volunteer gig. The crew I was working with on that second day spent the better part of the morning watering the lower part of the race course (just above the final jump leading to the finish), then tying down secondary (back-up) netting off The Brink that afternoon. Naively, I neglected to drink enough water (got to stay hydrated you know) and didn’t sufficiently stoked up on protein bars that afternoon either. Result, sliding down off the mountain I hit a physical wall, both literally and figuratively. Barely made it off the mountain without the able assistance of the people I worked with that afternoon. An extremely embarrassing situation for me since there were numerous times I could barely stand up, which resulted in me continuing to falli over like a spastic puppet whose wires have just been clipped (I hate it when that happens).

Here’s the most embarrassing thing about the whole situation. I found myself attempting to slide over terrain that I can normally handle no problem in typical alpine skiing conditions. Then again, this isn’t quite your typical “normal” skiing conditions. Just couldn’t get over the physical feeling of being hit head-on by s Mac-truck (once again-I hate it when that happens).

Right after that, and the very next day, I got re-assigned to a different work crew setting up the downhill start right at the top of the race course. As it turns out, this was a good set-up for me as the crew I worked with was extremely busy the whole time building fencing just before the start gate, setting up flag poles for all the nations competing in this year’s BOP, and cutting steps leading up to the start tent.  Made for a good feeling of “tired” when the day was finished.

I guess the only drawback to this downhill start crew gig was the fact that we were working at an altitude higher than 12,000 ft. Made for some strange work conditions. One minute you’re sweating profusely, take off a layer of clothing just in time for the wind to come out of nowhere and the temperature dropping 10 degrees in a 5-minute span. Then put your coat back on just in time for it to suddenly get hot again (“hot” being a relative term). This schizophrenic shift in weather patterns can all be attributed to a thing often referred to as, “Global Warming”, which tends to play havoc on a regular basis with the earth’s weather patterns.

The next two days of BOP-2021were devoted to Super-G races, where the start happened to be further down the mountain. On the second of those two days, rather than have me just hang out and be bored, my crew chief had me work with what is called, “The Pump-House” Talon Crew. This had me sliding down through “The Gosse-Hawk” Connector with a different set of guys to a spot on the course where we had a ring-side seat to view the racers as they came out of the Super-G Start and down this Wild-Ass pitch leading to a relatively flat spot. Everybody I worked with was required to wear crampons since it was so steep as we shoveled snow and groomed the course. I didn’t have full-blown crampons (just micro-spikes) and because of this, I was forced to be extremely careful the whole time I was working that part of the course.

Made it through the day in good shape though, and a strange sense of pride over-came me when we skied to the bottom. A combination of factors contributed to this including the fact that the crew I was working with happened to be a good set of guys, sliding down the course being the diametric opposite of my physical ineptitude from three days prior to that, and another one of those “good tired” feelings as the day drew to an inevitable close.

Why were most of us dead tired at the end of every day? Maybe this had something to do with the fact that every day started at the 5:00 am. You ever tried to wake up at 5:00 am in December? (Northern Hemisphere of course). It’s still dark outside, colder than the underside of a witch’s tit, and basically an un-natural time of the day to be waking up and squeezing into a set of alpine ski boots and 56 layers of clothing.

The final Saturday of BOP-2021 (Dec.4, 2021) was the penultimate Downhill race of the entire ball of wax. My Downhill Start crew-chief had me monitoring the racers as they flew by off the 3^rd, 4^th, and 5^th gates of the course. This job was ok, but not exactly the most appealing way to stimulate your creative juices.

The best part of the day? That’s easy-right after the race finished my crew chief and I skied our way down to the finish-line where we participated in a Talon-crew group photo shoot. Slid my way down the course’s steep pitch, and actually started feeling more and more confident with my ability to handle it. The underlying feeling that went through my head? “You did it Swanson, and actually looked somewhat graceful as you pulled it off.”

2021-BOP was a great experience, and like I said earlier, “Life should be a series of amazing adventures.  This was definitely one of them. Then again, “That pitch still looks steeper than your normal, garden-variety, ice-covered, cliff-band.” Adds to the “amazing” aspect of the adventure. though