Last weekend marked the second year I’ve volunteered to help out with course security for the annual Birds of PreyWorld Cup Downhill Ski races at Beaver Creek, CO. Once again it turned out to be a great experience, and I’ve taken the essay I wrote about last years’ experience, made major alterations to it including an update for this year’s edition, and re-posted it. Updated one or three things, then added all sorts of new insights. Here it is for all you sports fans out there.

 

Word Count: 1504

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once Again into the

White Circus Breach

 

One of the things I love to do in the winter is follow the exploits of the U.S. Ski/Snowboard Team. I find myself constantly going to their website to check results from the previous weekend’s races. Doesn’t matter whether it’s the latest exploits of the traditional Alpine ski racers, the Freestylers, Nordic boys & girls, or even all those young buck Free Skiers and Snowboarders. Obviously, I’m a fanatic when it comes to keeping tabs on the sport, in addition to peripherally involving myself in various aspects of it too.

In September of 2017 in the course of a casual conversation with the husband of my cousin, he mentioned that he’s been a volunteer course timer for the Birds of PreyWorld Cup Downhill races in Beaver Creek, CO.the first weekend of December. The first set of Alpine Ski Races (Speed events) take place every year in North America, and Birds of Prey is considered one of the more challenging races on the entire circuit. January through March, most, if not all the races are in Europe so it’s a perpetual set of away competitions if you happen to be one of the kids from this side of the pond. Every race is an away game if you’re a competitive ski racer from the Southern Hemisphere.

Almost immediately I excitedly told him that if a spot on the 2017 volunteer crew opened up, please forward me an application to fill out, send in, and hopefully they’ll grace me with admittance. As some of you well know, I jump on these volunteer bandwagons (Website/Blog Essay posting-11/10/17) about as often as most folks flip through the remote control to find out what’s on the Boob Tube.  Being one of the Birds of Prey course prep folks? How cool is that when you’ve transformed yourself into a ski race fanatic who makes diehard NFL fans look like normal, well-adjusted, human beings?

When you think about it, volunteering for this thing wasn’t going to be a laidback affair. For one, the races are located halfway across the state so that meant I’d be taking the better part of two days just to drive back and forth to Beaver Creek. There are definite disadvantages to living in such a remote rural area like South West Colorado, and this is one of them.

This year I’ve made the big switch-back to using Alpine Ski gear, having gone the Tele mark gear route for the previous eleven years. Switching back wasn’t that much of a problem as far as being on the course crew for BOP. Everyone is required to more or less use Alpine equipment in most cases, so unlike last year I didn’t have to rent any equipment. From that perspective, at least one inconvenience was eliminated. Boy oh boy, more time freed up to explore.

Not quite, last year the entire state suffered from a dearth of the white stuff, so while one problem was solved this year (not having to rent equipment) another crept up to take its place. Namely, driving up to Beaver Creek and having to tack on an extra hour or so just to get there and back. Getting up there got me to my destination a bit later in the afternoon than I anticipated, so by the time I picked up my course crew credentials, it was already starting to get dark. Once again, we can probably conclude that this whole short-day thing around the Winter Solstice really sucks. Then again, as the old saying goes, “Waa, learn to deal with it buddy.”

Additionally, my lack-of-snow experience from last year was unfortunately colored by viewing the terrain in and around Beaver Creek through a pair of rose-colored glasses. Lack of snow in 2017 had me envisioning in my mind what the place would look like covered in white stuff. This year was totally different, as Mother Naturedid not disappoint. We definitely had more than enough early season snow conditions to make the place look like an actual winter wonderland.

Unfortunately, the line between Winter Wonderland and Class V Kill Storm is often very thin. In classic fashion, my first day of volunteering on the mountain doing course security illustrated this. A series of intermittent snow storms blew in and out throughout the day, and this was only a mild precursor of the weather over the next four days. Blizzard conditions? Of course we had them, this is Colorado after all, isn’t it?

Just like last year, I shared a condo with the same group of people as last year’s odyssey. Unlike last year though which had me feeling like an interloper to this sweet little set-up they had, this go-round had me settling in like one of the regulars. All of us got along swimmingly, and my only complaint about the housing accommodations situation was the fact that some of us (including the new guy-me) had to get up before the butt crack of dawn in order to catch a shuttle to report for duty early every morning. This inconvenience was only for four days, so I didn’t have much of a problem dealing with it. Definitely has its disadvantages. Squeezing into a pair of ski boots at 6:00 am, and putting on more clothing layers than a reindeer herder wasn’t much fun. The advantages? You ever ridden a chairlift as the sun is rising up over the peaks, with a set of storm clouds on the horizon also brewing? I have, and it’s well worth all the effort, despite the fact that it’s viciously cold too while you’re sitting on that chair.

Hard not to be impressed with these competitors. All of them have this intense, focused look of determination that clearly gives them a man-on-a-mission appearance. Particularly the guys from countries that you know have a chance of doing well. The usual top notch Alpine Ski Racing suspects; guys from Germany, Switzerland, Austria, the Scandinavian countries, the French and Italians, the U.S. and Canadian skiers.

That brings up another subject; I found myself watching the competitors get ready for their races and rooting for the little guys. Contestants from countries that don’t allocate more money than their GDP to their national team. The Slovenians, Croatian, this competitor from Denmark (where does that guy train?) the U.K. You can always tell these guys since they were the ones skiing by my security check point wearing old style warm up gear (80’s fashion) and without the most technologically advanced racing equipment. Obviously indicates that budgets for them are tight, and the chances of one of these guys landing on the podium are analogous to a competitor from Kazakhstan winning the World Surfing title. Then again, hope springs eternal, right?

The athletes I admired the most during this year’s edition of BOP weren’t really adrenalin junkies at all. Instead they were the race techs. What, you may be asking yourself? Once again D. Swanson is putting his eccentricity on full display.

For all you confused readers out there, let me explain.

Part of course security my group was required to monitor was the roped off area just upslope from a set of gates adjacent to the main race course. Individual teams had their race technicians testing out different wax formulations to find the fastest one for that particular day.

While doing my shift next to the rope preventing people from accessing the slope, I had the opportunity to view the various race techs. Almost all of the technicians I viewed were carrying two or three pairs of race skis on their shoulder, accompanied by carrying a back pack the size of an over-sized suit case, and ripping down the slope at breakneck speed. Sometimes in the middle of a raging snow storm with visibility in the two to three-foot range. This is truly an amazing feat when one considers just how hesitant most people are when they’re skiing down a slope.

Once again, my BOP volunteer experience was a good one, and I’m hoping I can get on the course monitoring crew for many years to come. Obviously, these World Cup ski races are quite a bit more work to successfully pull off than most people think, and while attending the closing banquet the people at Beaver Creekhosted on Sunday night for course workers, one of the organizers who’s done this BOP thing for over fifteen years told me this year’s edition was one of the most challenging. Adverse weather conditions including bitterly cold temperature, full-scale blizzards, all sorts of inclement weather, and all manner of other logistical problems created this strange stew that resulted in the 2018 edition of Birds of Prey World Cup Downhill Racesbeing a truly challenging and unique experience. I’m glad I did it though. A bit of a “bust-ass situation”as my old college buddy used to put certain situations like this, but those are often the best ways to lead your life, aren’t they?