ISSUE #93 2011 ANNUAL $11.95 incl. gst
THE QUEST Words And Photos By Neil Kerr
Fox Glacier, on New Zealand’s wild West Coast, is one of the closest Glaciers to the sea in the World. Tourists flock to this corner of New Zealand to view it year round. They walk up to the terminal moraine and scratch around on the dirty toe of this huge river of ancient ice. Little do they know that high above them, on the snowy Neve at the head of the Glacier, rise some of New Zealand’s gnarliest peaks and one of our coolest Alpine huts. It’s from here, Pioneer Hut, at the very end of October we find ourselves searching for big lines to ski. Late spring sees a lot of high alpine faces coming into ‘condition’. The melt-freeze cycle means, by lunchtime, the hard frozen snow is released from its frozen form and corns up, making for extraordinarily good big-mountain skiing. With me is fellow cameraman Jason Hancox. We’ll be filming the pilot show of a web based video series: The Quest. It follows The North Face sponsored athletes; Fraser McDougall and Janina Kuzma as they develop the experience and knowledge necessary to climb peaks and ski first descents here in New Zealand. To provide us with tutorage we brought in the expertise of Adventure Consultants, who gave us Geoff Small. An experienced guide and ski mountaineer, he’s also won the NZ Big Mountain Championship eight-times! As our helicopter ascends the prehistoric Glacier towards the Neve it started to dawn on us how vast the landscape is up here. Geoff was the only one of our group who’d been to the fabled Pioneer Hut, a climber’s mecca that precariously perches atop a rocky outcrop beside the glacier. We dropped off our gear and bagged a bed each for the night. During spring this hut is busy with mountaineers and ski tourers making the most of the great conditions.
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Scoping lines on the lookers left shoulder. Janina Kuzma, Fraser McDougall, and guide Geoff Small.
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Y ROSS g up Red Mountain. PHOTO:MICKE
Tele soul shredder Rory Cam rippin
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SKI BUMS U
BEING A SKI BUM IS GOOD FOR YO Words By Annabel Wilson
al suspects. You spot them son, there’s a gathering of the usu At the start of every Kiwi snow sea ctic collective sampling the ling, going up, going down: an ecle in the cafe, on the chairlift; assemb exotic jackets that speak of hot m by their stickered helmets and best lines on the hill. You know the s: they’re ski fit from stints in y don’t tend to go on warm up run hed in their turns in high places. You notice the ch; they’ve got their playlunch stas mu und aro t wai ’t don y The . ere the Northern Hemisph drops like summer never urite lines and huck signature rock pockets so they can carve their favo bums. happened. They are the classic ski hstick tans aren’t
matc overloaded Subarus, McJobs and ging, so now the fat cats with the you might rub shoulders ark, carp the into rock However, today’s workforce is chan you as and on There’s a ski bum evolution going . open in Japan. You’re cred kets bum mar ski the with re ones befo fix only the e all night, or is snatching a snow onlin ing work been ly whilst still has fami who and er bum with a stealth ski the world, and now juggle care school crew too, who have skied . Their unifying ction addi er wint their for ons bound to bump into some of the old reas the lift line and they’ll share the in chat a ly that being Have simp . is s) snow on thing y time shin maximizing their dard nine to five and acquisition of stan the over n (ofte m drea the motive for choosing to pursue a ski bum is good for you. sense of wellbeing. e of the white stuff increases your enticing reasons as to why the chas of y -savvy arra an snow of off ty reel varie can a with bum e ski Every y addictive. I spok w winters because it’s physiologicall rs and entrepeneurs who all ance freel ry hung The real ski bums, the lifers, follo derpow ers, Mickey rs past and present, seasonal work man, Felicity Perry, Rory Camm, dreamhunters, including pro skie , body and soul. Talking to Neil Willi mind ed, bum. Being hook ski y ’re orar they emp use cont beca share the passion hard-and-fast definition for the made me realize that there is no rollercoaster ride a It’s g. ythin ever e mor for ch Ross, Mat Woods and Todd Windle nnings, a sear cycle of adventures and new begi a ski bum is a lifelong journey, a g, sometimes all in one day. livin Zen le simp and our glam high that takes in the contrasts of ski natural high is not just the rush a one’s mode de vivre – lifestyle. That into high ral the of natu e a g stag y ratin ever g integ t Being a ski bum is abou ty palms and spiky heart rates durin the gnar, either. Ski bums get swea thought of seam-sealed bum experiences when shredding movies before the first frost. The ski hing watc ’re They x. P-Te of ll sme the on post-skiing buzz. off and skiing journey. They get from the hill that capture the pre make playlists for the drive to and They l. droo them es mak tex Gore
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AK DREAMS Words By Fraser McDougall Photos By Tony Harrington
I almost hugged the guy next to me. I’d abandoned trying to solve the quadratic equation in question six, and had been distracted by an email from my sponsor, The North Face. I read the words several times before they made sense. I was to be going on a trip to Alaska – a week shooting photos at Points North Heliski operation out of Cordova. Sitting in the grey computer lab, surrounded by the quiet tapping of keys, I could barely contain myself. For me, this was monumental. Alaska had been in my dreams since, as a frothing grommet, I watched Seth Morrison and crew directing their heli pilots to drop them on top of insane lines there. Already, I had massive expectations for the trip. I could envisage standing at the top of a ski-movieworthy spine, plastered in Alaska pow, the camera, rolling from the heli, capturing my high-speed descent. I imagined playing the waiting game we all hear about, anticipation building as we held our breath for that bluebird morning and bomber stability, long walks on Alaskan coastline, under the watch of Native American totem poles, and bald eagles circling overhead. But I was getting ahead of myself. Clichés aside, what would my Alaska experience be like? I’d spend the next few months dreaming about it while working my ass off on a building site, my fellow co-workers not understanding why I had a constant far away look in my eyes. At the end of March, 2011, I was about to discover Alaska for myself. I stepped out of the small plane onto the tarmac at Cordova, and was greeted by a few gnarly fishermen and some locals. Not the glam ski hub I’d pictured, the few ski bags on the flight were ditched onto the floor inside the tiny terminal. Tom Waclo, a guide from PNH, hardened by years of Alaskan winters, picked up my bags and threw them into the truck.
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