give it hell

I may be 23 and done with college, but my formative years are still in their prime. For some people my age, it may be that they've established themselves in their area of study, occupation, philosophies. Yes, I have molded into shapes that will not change in some of these areas. But when I see different types of personalities, experiences, joy, pain, etc., I can't help but continue to second-guess my position and think critically about...well, my thinking. (This, after all, is the definition of "critical thinking".)

I've met people in my life, especially at a younger age, who have undoubtedly made impressions on me. As I grow older, despite my own philosophies being challenged as I mentioned above, the concentration of human interactions which make me stop in my tracks and do some reconsidering become more sparse as I stand more firmly on my own two philosophical feet with time. However, I met someone in Whistler who caused me to redefine passion and charisma and commitment.

Willy Bassin was our section chief. Willy is from Ontario and is half-Swiss. He is the one of the most passionate people I've ever met in the arena of ski racing. He is an ex-racer himself. He's spent time all around the world including Switzerland, working venues and coaching athletes of all levels, including Didier Cuche. Throughout my tenure at Whistler, Willy pushed me to wake up every day and interact with my full attention. He led by example when one of us leaned on a shovel. After a twelve hour day when crews were descending the course to take the boots off of their worn feet, Willy would be standing on the back side of an A-net system shoveling out the foot. He'd then be in the village by night attending the medals ceremony, having a beer at the Swiss house, etc., only to be the first person back on the hill in the morning saying, "Hey, morning! How's it going today? Here's our program for the morning..." He immediately knew everyone by name and always acknowledged them in an upbeat manner no matter how exhausted and weather-beaten they were. He carried a vibe about him that exemplified commitment to the task at hand - whether it was acknowledging you over a drink in the village or going on the fourth hour of shoveling out the track in a blizzard. There was no phoniness.

It made me think about how I feel about certain things that I am "passionate about". And I recognize that I've got my head in a few different directions right now. It was therefore refreshing and inspiring to hang out with Willy day in and day out, who had to be bribed and convinced to take a day off by the course chiefs. Willy was and is passionate about ski racing, high-level competition and athleticism, and the serfdom that comes with putting on a ski race (let alone an Olympic race). The experiences and investment he has made have brought him to this particular place in his life which cause him to throw off a vibe that is intoxicating and invigorating to those who are sweating through Smartwool beside him, those who don't have anyone to give orders to but everyone to take orders from.

As I approach my 23rd birthday, I can't help by challenge myself in thinking about the things which I am truly passionate about as well as those for which I am not. Where is time well-spent? How much do I owe to myself in these different capacities; how much do I owe to any particular cause? It seems as though the answers to these questions always hover around 110%, and if there is something that causes me to question the level of true guts that I can spill, I had better pull out of it and reassure myself that I am dumping my energies into the causes, people, adversity, and celebrations which inevitably ensue a mission that I can unquestionably wrap myself around.

Willy was a perfect example of someone who grabs life by the cojones, works hard, plays hard, acknowledges those around him, and already has his alarm set for another early wake up. It was pretty sweet to be around a soul like that given my recent college graduation and utter confusion about what the bloody hell I'm going to do with myself, even in the short term.

Just........give it hell, I suppose. From French-pressing to relationships to shoveling more goddamned snow on an Olympic downhill than you knew existed, give it hell.

Easier said than done?

There were a couple of things I saw yesterday that did not suck.

One of them was Will Brandenburg in his first Olympic event. He did not race the DH or the SG, but did in fact start in the Super-Combined. I watched him speed by us in the Downhill portion in the morning, but then also watched him smoke the Slalom in the afternoon sun. I was standing on the last pitch before the finish, and when he crossed the finish line, ten billion people roared and he had blown the field away by about 1.3 seconds. He was able to hold his position here for a little while, until, of course, Bode and the gang came. But watching a guy who I grew up racing with and made the call to pursue a racing career like this just ski his ass off and finish well was a treat, to say the least.

The other was the actual setting of the Slalom course after the DH run was over. I ended up being the main gate shagger for the Croatian coach who set the course, Ante Kostelic. The day before, they had set the SL and chalked the holes of the turning gates (and outsides, I think) to facilitate a quick set right after the DH run so athletes could spin around and inspect. There was only an hour or so between runs, so tension was high. Before I knew it, I had five or six people slipping down above me throwing me reds and blues out of their large bundles while I maintained a sustainable inventory of three or four of each at the most. Kostelic would yell "Vred!!" "Blue!!" "Two vred, von blue!" And it was all I could do to keep caught up to him. FIS guys were all around measuring and drilling and shouting and in no longer than I would say twelve minutes, we had 800m of course set and race-ready. Holy ba-geezus.

I was released early yesterday and skied over to Whistler base, hoofed it home, changed clothes, and ran back to the village to catch Sam Roberts Band at 3pm. Later on...ended up at Creekside for a gin party. I drank about four different kinds of gin, diligently fed to me by Julie Lemieux, a tougher-than-nails French-Canadian who just gets work done up on that course. If anyone is reading from Montana (the Loves?), there were a group of 22-24 year old ex-racers from Calgary who know Kyle Taylor, Kate Jordan, and some other racers from PNSA...small world. It's amazing to meet such a concentration of Canadians who've gone to race in college...seems like a lot of that is happening.

Being the only American in that condo in Creekside was a frightening experience last night considering the hockey game...

got crampons?

Take a piece of auto glass, tip it up at a 45-degree angle, and then try to walk up or down it in ski boots. That will give you an idea of how bulletproof the course is becoming. I was standing in Shep's Belly today (a flatter section of the course where we're stationed) and literally had to keep one hand on a couple meshes of B-net to keep myself standing. Then, working on the pitches, it's ridiculous. If you don't have crampons, forget it. And if your skis aren't tuned, forget it. With multiple water injection programs the last few nights and cold temps overnight, it's glass.

The weather has been incredible. Cold and clear and spiritual with alpenglow in the morning, blazing during the day, then repeat at dusk. Smelling sunscreen on my face and on others' faces makes it feel like we should be drinking cold Alaskan Amber on a boat in the middle of summer. (One person actually said that today.) But we're on water, yes...just frozen.

Mom and Phyllis came up today on a whimsical note. We had a great dinner, saw a nasty funk group in the village square, and I have sent them on their way for the evening to explore the party that Whistler Village truly is now. I've never seen it packed more than it is today.

Unfortunately, I must retire, as we have a 5:45am load for the Super-Combined in the morning. Sunday night will hopefully yield some more good times out 'n' about. But for now...sleep.

Best over to Corey in Toronto and the rest of the gang that has taken off already...we be thinkin of you.

peace oot, eh?

It's 10:15...way past my bedtime for a 4:30am wakeup. Full day today, successful Super-G, Aksel won with Bode and Andrew Weibrecht in 2 and 3. I'm happy for the Norwegian and happy for the Americans also on the podium. Blazing sunshine and a fragile track because of it. But the lower section of the course held up better than anticipated.

Had the pleasure of calling my mom today at Harmony Elementary and holding the phone to the Olympic Super-G course as a racer was passing by so the kids could hear an Olympic athlete in action. Simple but gratifying; I hope the other end enjoyed it as much as I did. Answered a few questions, also.

I JUST got out of my gear...ended up not going home until now. Had a couple beers at the Weasel House and then met Sabrina and company for dinner in the village tonight. They managed to get me credentials into the Team Canada House for a couple glasses of wine just as the Canadian skeleton won gold - definitely a good moment....but only because the USA has such a cache of medals now. So...good for Canada, but...good for us, too. :-)

I've unfortunately mixed the grape and the grain tonight, which will hopefully make me sleep well...

Men's DH training tomorrow and women's Super-G...stay tuned. I'll get some more pics up soon.

Sincerely hope all is well.

sunshine and carnage

This is the second day of sunshine. Sunglass lines are already forming; I dread the beard-tan should I choose to shave it sometime later on in the spring. I'm going to have to make that call relatively soon. I can't imagine blood, slime, and scales stuck in it when in Bristol Bay.

Ladies' downhill and super-combined are successfully completed. Not without some epic crashes yesterday on the downhill, an upset today for Lindsey Vonn as she threw a shoe on the slalom, and plenty of hardware for the United States. The temperatures continue to drop lower and lower during the nights, and the track hardens more and more because of it. The ladies were doing 125km/hr on some sections according to one official this morning. That's fast.

Our schedules have been roughly the same day by day now - we show up, do a lot of waiting and standing in the morning, and the work doesn't generally come until the afternoon. For instance, this morning, we loaded the gondola at 6:30. We were ordered to grab a bundle of crowd control fence and shut off access to the athletes at Boyd's Bump, as they were doing a Super-G free-ski on the course (no gates, just cruising for a few runs), and the officials didn't want them tearing up the jump. There was no crowd control fencing around (hereinafter referred to as "C"), so we had to hop on the quad and go up to the downhill start to search for a roll. Found one. Sweet. Skied it down from the DH start to Boyd's, just above the finish. Unrolled it. Put it up. Job done. A course chief came down three minutes later and said, "Nevermind, we won't be needing that." We then took the C down, rolled it, and hoofed it back up the gondola and quad to the men's DH start. That was our project this morning.

This afternoon, we switched the finish over to accommodate the men's super-g tomorrow. This involves tearing down double-layer B systems, taking the rolls back up to the green Olympic rings for staging (you can see them on your TV screen), and step and shovel out the berms of snow that build up under the B-net. And without crampons, it's tough. The track is a sheet of ice now, and self-arresting if you slip may not work until you go through the timing beam at the finish.

Had a great crew dinner last night with everyone, including Corey's sister and her friend from the BC Alpine Team. The village has been vibrant with music lately - from Feist to the Barenaked Ladies to Our Lady Peace...the music doesn't stop. We made it into the OLP concert last night, and I crowd surfed. I had to, because last time I checked, there's not much of a choice BUT to crowd surf at a concert like that. It was a very tasty experience. There's a hilarious accompanying picture that Ally took...when I snatch it, I'll share.

The Works are here, along with the Rosens and Lambersons from Spokane. It's good to know they're in town, and I hope to have dinner with the MBRT crew tonight.

My bases are dry as a bone, my edges don't exist on 45-degree boilerplate, and my Lange boots are on their last legs, I think. But when the sun shines, it's all good...damn it's been beautiful.

Paid $9.25 for ONE #$%&#&# beer at the Swiss House the other night. Can you believe that? But what a place...let me tell you. Just like the homeland. Raclette and chocolate and good drinks. It's open to the public, and when there's a Swiss victory, the place bursts open at the seams. But just because they can make a watch and knife and stay out of the European Union while being geographically in the middle of it doesn't mean that they can charge me ten bucks for a damned beer.

Water injection program tonight at 8pm on the men's slalom start to prep for the super-combined Sunday. Opted out of it. Apparently one can get wet doing that sort of thing. As I said before, the track is as hard as the desk your computer sits on. It will be an exciting SG tomorrow...go USA.

Tim, a member on my crew, does an epic job of taking pictures and posting them every night of our activities, people, days, etc. Check his pictures out here.

cold smoke in the dark and a honey lager, please.

It's been awhile since I've written because, well, things have been busy. As you may know, weather has played a huge factor in the uphill battle of getting races off here at Whistler. At least it's snow for the most part. It could be worse...it could be Cypress.

Quick recap on the past few days. It's been a healthy mix of hard work, early mornings, a day off, and play time. Last week when we knew the weather was going to basically screw over the whole weekend in terms of having the men's downhill, I had the opportunity to take some incredible turns up on Whistler Peak and such with my crew. We were lead by a guy named Connor from Nova Scotia who can ab-so-lute-ly RIP. We skied some incredible lines in mid-calf pow off of the back side of Whistler Bowl, and it was an euphoric test of my athleticism and skiing.

We worked into the weekend, and I had a day off on Sunday. Saturday after work, there was much playtime in the village. Went to a few bars, ate and drank too much, etc. No matter how tired I am, when the time comes to go enjoy the scene, it simply has to be done...there's no other opportunity for it. Sunday I found myself taking care of some housekeeping things but then later ending up in the village again to watch a couple Canadian bands as well as the headliner, Matisyahu. I wasn't really expecting it, but it was a tremendous show and Village Square was packed. Met some Spaniards, straight from Madrid and Granada. A couple of them are actually on slip crew...who woulda thunk it. It was so refreshing to hear them speak Spain-Spanish and identify on some common things with them. Before I knew it, we were talking about Bar La Tortuga en Granada.

Monday we had a successful men's downhill - it went off without a hitch. Today, the super-combined was canceled. And, if you're interested, here's the final word straight from the horse's mouth: Men's super-g is on Friday. Men's super-combined is on Sunday.

The work mood has deteriorated. We're counting four-plus mornings now when we've had to show up for early loads (4am) and credentials check-in hasn't been open, nor has there been any breakfast. It is a gigantic effort to try to pull this off, and when organizers want hundreds of volunteers to get up at 2:30am for a full day's work, they need to be fed breakfast. This has happened on a handful of occasions, and it's frustrating. Work on the hill has been arduous. Today we side-stepped and boot-packed endlessly to try to prepare the track for a good freeze tonight after receiving 10+cm of snow last night. This work IS expected. But what has also been happening is a lot of standing around. Literally for hours. Volunteer efforts are sometimes overkill, and there are simply too many people for the amount of work required, especially during race time. A lot of bitching, I know. But it's not all peachy all the time on the Olympic downhill course!

In the midst of all the bureaucracy, early rises, and difficult work, things have been positive in many aspects. Humor is actually augmenting and becoming extremely dirty on the course. Every act of course work pretty much has to do with sex now. I will elaborate on this in person with whomever desires to know...give me a call or e-mail, because there are a couple of one-liners that are simply unforgettable. This morning we were ordered to go to the top of the men's downhill course for xyz something-or-another, then got called off. It was DUMPING snow, pitch-dark, and we had to take another run to get back down to midstation. This run happened to have boot-top untracked freshies, and I couldn't help but develop a shit-eating grin as I was making cold smoke in some liberating pre-dawn turns. I also attended the medals ceremony last night, which was definitely an experience. Bode took third, and Didier Defago (pronounced DEE-dee-eh) won the downhill, which naturally brought a contingent of over-sized Swiss cowbells careening down the cobblestones towards the ceremony (literally, the Swiss were carrying cowbells that were half the size of a human and made noise like church bells in Rome).

During the medals ceremony, I was impressed at how we were connected to BC Place in Vancouver, as they were having the medals presentation for the men's moguls simultaneously. The big screens in the village were tuned into that presentation, and we were part of the audience; then, when XC skiing, luge, and downhill medals were to be presented, we went live and all of the sudden 30,000 people in BC Place were watching via live feed the spot where I was standing. Impressive. Boom cameras, lights, music, national anthems, you name it - it's quite the production.

I've also developed good friendships here that will last. Cory Willis and Ally Empey are two of my sidekicks, and we definitely share the same sense of humor with regard to many things. When the going gets tough, we still tend to laugh our asses off, and it zeroes everything right back in again. Dave, our crew chief, and Willy, our section chief, are both two phenomenal human beings, and I couldn't ask for better bosses.

So much to talk about. But the experiences here are overwhelming the senses in both beautiful and frustrating ways. It is a struggle one minute, then it is beauty. I guess my only real underlying qualm right now is the fact that I would love to share this - these things I discuss - with somebody I'm close with. Don't get me wrong, seeing and doing these things is a great experience. And although I have been spending time with some of the people I've met, it still isn't the same as watching something or eating something or thinking about something which you can connect deeply to a parent, best friend, girlfriend, coach, sibling, etc., as he or she stands beside you. Being at the Winter Olympics alone is good. But it's also...being at the Winter Olympics alone. Doubled-edged sword.

Charlie Heggem put it into a good summation that has stayed with me: "Hauling B, pounding out snow, crack-ass of dawn patrols, massive egos, kick ass co-workers, lame co-workers, lots of insane moments that sear into your brain. Cool shit."

And aside from everything else, that moment you step out the door on a "crack-ass" dawn patrol and (if I may borrow from Pearl Jam) are blanketed with gems and rhinestones above with a setting crescent moon into a jagged alpine silhouette, things turn out to be pretty damned simple.

I leave you with a quote, for now. I must say that there's not much more that's demoralizing and fear-of-God instilling than getting shouted at by a guy with a thick Swiss accent. However, Hans, the FIS delegate from Switzerland, had some words of wisdom today having to do with boot-packing uphill that may also apply to the rutted course of life:

"If you vant to go high, you must start slow, heh?"


Hey, and thanks to Ruckel and Corrie Burke for being my two loyal followers!! YEAH!

the end of the beginning

Anywhere from 10-20cm fell on the upper section of the track last night. The most intense part of the storm arrives tomorrow morning, just in time. Hah.

It's about 9:20am on Friday...an odd time to be looking at my computer screen, as this is an hour which usually sees me in my ski boots. We had a packed all-crew meeting this morning at 7 that was...inspirational, blunt, and somewhat humorous. Given the weather, a swift kick to the ass was needed for all 1500 volunteers. We were informed that days off are officially canceled until further notice, and 24 hour 'round the clock shift changes are officially beginning starting at 1pm today. Men's training run is cancelled today. Crews will change out between 1pm-10pm and 10pm-7am shifts. Because this is the most-anticipated event in the Olympics aside from perhaps a gold medal hockey match between Canada and the United States, race officials refuse to let weather and track conditions touch tomorrow's mens downhill UNLESS it's a visibility issue. Manpower + around the clock prep + coffee + probably a little booze + enthusiasm for this cause will be the most effective tool we have to work with Mother Nature.

Whistler Village is becoming electric. There are multiple stages set up for "Whistler Live!" which will showcase bands throughout the Games such as Sam Roberts Band, Damian Marley, Swollen Members, among many others. At the base of Whistler Gondola, a DJ is set up at the foot of a giant kicker with rings of fire at the lip through which freestyle skiers and riders are jumping throughout the night. The cobblestones in the village are a huge dance floor, playing host to more than 80 countries. Big screens are scattered throughout the village covering events and venues between Whistler and Vancouver. This is very much a connected setup...between Whistler, Whistler Creekside, the nordic site, Cypress, Vancouver, etc., nothing will be missed.

The Jamaican Bobsled Team is here, with the Savage Beagle Club as their headquarters.

As I type, I'm watching coverage of the Olympic Torch Relay entering into the most poverty-stricken area in Canada - the Downtown East Side of Vancouver. The mayor insisted that it didn't matter how brilliant or how ugly the city was - the Olympics are inclusive to all walks of life which share common threads no matter where one is in the world. The torch therefore has struck the poorest of communities as it makes its way to the opening ceremonies, and protesters aren't hesitating in raising their voices about how resources haven't been allocated to, for example, poverty reduction, housing, and the environment throughout prep for the games. These protesters have actually caused VANOC to redirect the route of the torch. Interesting mix of emotions in the face of the largest multinational gathering of the world's most elite athletes. You can't help but take all of these opinions into account regardless of your stance and put it into the best perspective you can.

My job is real, though, at this point. I'm on a Pearl Jam, Grand Analog, and Eleven Fingered Charlie binge right now. With those songs running through my veins, my own cacophony of thoughts, and the unique environment which surrounds me, I proceed the best I can. Let the bass line drop - it's showtime.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_eAElauc3E

some updates for those who inquire

The mass e-mail is outdated. The blog is so...in. For those who are interested:

A week deep in Whistler has proved to be a bittersweet experience. I'm not going to blow smoke here - ski racing can be a real pain in the ass, especially when the Mother herself decides to work against you. This I have found out time and time again throughout my ski racing/coach/volunteer career, but let me tell you - when you mix quadruple B-nets and A-nets on an Olympic downhill with pending training runs, PUKING snow, and the world expecting a race this coming Saturday, it tends to max out the muscles, mind, and patience. But it's nothing a little beer and sleep won't remedy.

My first days included obtaining credentials, accommodations, meeting people, figuring out who will be barking at you, realizing that you won't really be able to bark at anyone yourself, and training. Beginning last Friday, my crew and I began putting up double and quadruple layers of protective B-netting. Rolls of B-net weigh approximately 11 million pounds each, and hundreds are required to line the course with the goal of slowing down an athlete who crashes at high speeds at a safe negative velocity before he or she hits other obstacles. In some high-risk sections of the course, four layers of netting thousands of feet long and only erected by manual labor is needed. Simply put: B-net duty is tough work.

My crew is responsible for the section of track from the slalom start to the finish - probably 500-700 vertical change and 2-3000' of track length. Again, we've been on B-net duty from the beginning, but now recently have been dealing with new snow (pushing it off the track...raking, shoveling, etc. etc.) as well as making changes to the net setups depending on the needs of the race jury (safety adjustments), the weather (snow buildup in the nets), and the snow cats (opening up sections for pushing excess snow off the run, or opening up "pick points" from which snow cats can self-aid by winching back and forth as they're working so as to cut down on course degradation).

With the impending weather, I ended up in ski boots from 3:30am Wednesday morning until 4:30pm. Some people in my boat ended up working into the dark as well. Today was a bittersweet day - we ended up pulling off a complete mens training run, but immediately after, the ceiling dropped and it started puking snow. It's not looking good for the final training run tomorrow, let alone a successful Olympic downhill on Saturday.

Aside from the work, life isn't too bad here, either. I've had a couple of good nights in the bar and have met a ton of quality (and not so quality) souls. There have been additions to my crew, and finally I'm working with two people of 20 and 24 years of age, as well as another 22 year old in the other crew in my section. We're becoming friends and sharing some legit laughs.

A couple nights ago I ended up in Dublinh Gate Pub with someone I knew, but more importantly later on with some off-the-clock Vancouver police officers who didn't hesitate in buying me whiskey. After a good sesh of talking to them about whether legalizing marijuana in Washington State would do good or bad things to tax revenue (and life in general), I realized it was getting late and went back to the condo. That was when I read my e-mail and saw that I needed to be at Creekside ready to load at 4am the next morning. I can't have too many of these instances, because nights of drinking make for long 14-hour days.

Attitudes are waning this early on as well. When crew and section chiefs realized yesterday that the weather was coming and we hadn't even completed one discipline of mens alpine skiing, people started snapping at each other on the track as we were trying to work and keep things in condition. This weighed heavily on the shoulders of volunteers who had been up since 2:30am. Yes, this is the Olympics, and it's a unique atmosphere to be a part of. But shitty attitudes and drama can really bring down a brigade of unpaid people who are playing an integral role in pulling this off on a platform of energy derived from the "Team 2010, With Glowing Hearts" catch phrase.

So now the weather is here. We got kicked off the hill midday today, which was surprising but also a major relief. I think it's because they're gearing us up for a 24/7 push to make an attempt at conquering this weather and pulling a race off. But I'm hesitant to express optimism in that. Luckily my next day off is Sunday, which means Saturday night will be nothing short of a party with the world in Whistler Village, as the games will have officially begun, and hopefully the USA will have podiumed in the mens downhill.

Between now and then, though, we'll have to come up with an answer for the Swiss and Austrians looking at this wet snow and heavy accumulation asking, "Vat is matter vit dis place?"

And I apologize for the length - ensuing posts will be shorter and hopefully filled with better substance. I just wanted to give the last week some justice to those who have asked.

I am thinking of you all.