Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Why Shaun White is a great snowboarder

I recently read a Facebook post by Big Bear Lake that caught my attention and stirred up some really old memories.
The post read, “Congratulations to Shaun White for his Winter X Games 5th Gold Medal in the Super Pipe, who learned how to ride on the slopes of Bear Mountain!”
Sure, Shaun White deserves recognition for earning his 5th X Games gold medal in the super pipe this past weekend. But when I read the post, I felt the need to set the record straight, and apparently so did other “fans” of Big Bear, who quickly replied to the post.
Shaun White grew up learning how to board and ski at Snow Summit, not Bear Mountain.
Petty, you say? There is a difference.
Bear Mountain used to be called Goldmine Ski Area, and, until recent years, was always an independently owned ski area, very different from its neighbor to the west, Snow Summit.
            That being said, Shaun White did not become the snowboarder he is today by learning how to ride on the gentle slopes of Southern California. He got that way because of when and where he was born.
Shaun White grew up in Carlsbad. From the time he was 6 years old, his parents would load up the family car and travel either to Mammoth or closer Big Bear nearly every weekend in the wintertime.
I was a lift operator in the winter of ‘95/96 at Snow Summit and I clearly remember the 10-year-old half-sized kid who just wanted to keep up with the older kids he was riding with.

                                                        Snow Summit as seen from the North Shore in Big Bear

This was around the time when snow cat driver Chris “Gunny” Gunnerson convinced the powers that be to let him experiment with “terrain features” that would add a little excitement to the otherwise lackluster terrain of Snow Summit. This was a far cry from the resort I once knew – one that would stake off any kind of mogul or unnatural terrain feature that people were using to “catch air,” probably because they were afraid of getting sued.
Snowboarding was evolving … and fast.  
There were many good riders in Big Bear in those days, many of whom went on to become well-known pros in the sport, and others who remain in the shadows.
All were pioneers in a sport that was rapidly discovering itself – someone tried a 360, then a 540, and the numbers just kept adding up.
“If you want to win, you gotta spin,” went the saying.
There was a certain air around Snow Summit whenever we heard that Gunny had been up all night shaping the terrain park. Gunny was a true pioneer. It seemed like each week, he would build the lip just a little bit higher, make the gap just a little bit longer, make the fear factor just a little bit greater.
People responded. The more people were willing to push their limits, Gunny was equally ready to test just how far they would take them.   

                                                                  Westridge back in the day

Probably the most famous terrain feature, or “hit,” at Snow Summit was called “The Three Wise Men” or “Wiseman’s” as it eventually became known.
Wiseman’s was the arguably the first “giant kicker,” the one that paved the way for what the sport has become today, and as far as I know, Gunny was the one who created it.
On Wiseman’s, you had three options. You could take the left lip, which was probably about 6 feet high with a shorter gap to the transition. You could take the right lip, a few feet higher and a little longer gap. Or you could take the middle lip, which bowed up to about 15 feet, followed by a 6-foot drop and a 30- to 40-foot gap. (Nobody had ever seen a jump that big before, at least not in Big Bear.)
Hitting Wiseman’s required 100 percent commitment, because the jump automatically threw you at least 15 feet in the air. If you came up short, there was no option but to land flat.
This is where, I believe, the term “gaper” was coined. More often than not, if you were rolling up to Wiseman’s, you would find a line of snowboarders sitting down on their asses in the middle of the narrow approach, staring, waiting, wrestling with themselves as to whether or not they are going to commit.
On several occasions, the gallery of onlookers would be infiltrated by snowboarders (and skiers) approaching from the rear.
“Dropping!!”
Two, three or more snowboarders, usually locals, would speed by, commit to the line and boost off the lip of Wiseman’s, executing smooth aerial maneuvers with fluidity while the “gapers” sat watching in awe.
Following them usually was 10-year-old Shaun White, equally as committed, who would boost off the lip, mimicking his mentors with precision, pulling off back flips, grabs, perfectly executed tricks. 

                                                               A "Gaper" sits at the top of the run, contemplating his life
 
At least once a month, the White family would pass through my lift line on skis, including young Shaun. His mother and father told me it was important to instill in their children respect for all snow sports and the concept of “playing” in the snow. The White family seemed to enjoy coming up to the mountain for one reason – to play and have fun in the snow.
You can still see it in Shaun White’s face today, that childlike smile that says, “I’m just having fun, riding with my friends.” No ego, no desire, really, to be the best. He simply is.

Now the old days of the park on Westridge are far behind us and the terrain park as we once knew it has become more massive than we ever imagined back in those days. Gunny has moved on to become one of the most sought after terrain park designers in the world, building parks at the Winter Olympics and the X Games. Last I heard, he was still designing and building the park at Northstar.
            And as for Shaun White, he certainly came around at a time when a new sport was evolving, and he had a lot of mentors to look up to, to push him, to drive him to where he is today.

           As for me, I’m still riding, but I’ve traded my hometown of Big Bear and the San Bernardino Mountains for the Sierra Nevada. I’ve also taken up cross country skiing. I’ve been on a few snowshoe trips.
But most of all, I still just like to play in the snow.


Look for more stories of music, food, fun, and adventure in my new blog: Tales of the Traveling Uke. Subscribe here.





Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Don't be an a**hole

My Ukulele goes with me virtually everywhere I go, much to the chagrin of my beautiful fiancé.  
If only it weren’t for that one time …. (not at band camp).
Julia and I had only been dating for about six months when she invited me to go on the annual camping trip with her and her friends at Big Sur on Labor Day weekend. Her friends, some of whom I had met a couple times and felt comfortable around, were mostly my age, from Southern California like me, and shared similar interests.
One of those interests is music, so, of course, I brought my Ukulele with me on the trip.
When I arrived at camp (one day behind everybody else because I had to work at the bar the Friday night before), there were people sitting about, basking in the sun, soaking in the perennial stream, drinking beers, playing guitars, just hanging out.
Not wanting to be the “awkward” one, I had a couple beers and loosened up a bit. After a while, those couple beers turned into a few beers, which eventually turned into quite a few more.
Later in the evening, someone brought up the idea to go see the “Evangenitals” (yes, that was the name of the band) at the bar and restaurant just up the street from the campground. My elevated state combined with my desire to once again play music in a band gave me the idea to take my Ukulele and try to sit in.
Bad idea.
Picture this: You are the lead singer of a cheesy cover band playing at some obscure bar in the heart of Big Sur. A drunk asshole toting a ukulele stumbles to the front of the stage and says, “Hey, how about I sit in with you?”
He says it more than once, each time getting a little bit louder and more assertive.
You: “Um…. Ok. After this set, we’ll see if we can get you in.”
The drunk asshole staggers off to the back of the room, where his “friends” are gathered, dancing, conversing. The drunk asshole pulls his Ukulele out of its case and proceeds to play it in solitude in the corner.
You can guess who the drunk asshole was.
Later the next day, Julia kindly, jokingly (I think) likened the situation to a kid who was playing soccer by himself in the corner while the real game was taking place out on the field.
Nice. 

                                           (Jammin' by the river, pre-evangenitals)

You know, it’s ok to make fun of yourself, and it’s ok to not take yourself too seriously, but I did learn a valuable lesson that day: Don’t be an asshole.
I still bring my Ukulele virtually everywhere I go. I’m always looking, waiting, hoping for that impromptu jam session, which, when the universe allows it, can be the most beautiful, wonderful thing in the world.
But, if I’ve had too much to drink, I just leave the Uke in the case and tip the bottle instead.

Look for more stories of music, food, fun, and adventure in my new blog: Tales of the Traveling Uke. Subscribe here.

Welcome to my new Blog

When my beautiful fiancé, Julia, and I were on our way to visit some friends up in Grass Valley Saturday evening, we struck up a conversation about writing. Am I a writer? A real writer? Or, as a Journalist, do I just regurgitate facts as they are given to me? Where is the creativity in my profession?
“I think I need to start blogging,” I said.
The ensuing conversation went from things like, “What do you want to blog about?”
“I don’t know.”
“What would you call it?”
“I don’t know.”
After much discussion – actually, it was probably about five minutes – we arrived to the point that I would like to creatively express my experiences and insights into the world as I see it, without having to work within the confines of AP Style, “Time; Day; Date; Place,” etc. Maybe I could really rebel and dare to put a period after a “quotation mark”.
Oh, it just feels so good.
We decided that my new blog should be about music, food and adventure – three things I hold dear to my heart. I like to eat. I like to think that I am an adventurous guy. I love the outdoors. I grew up in the mountains. I also grew up around music. I play the drums. I play other instruments – guitar, bass, piano – as well. Actually, I fake it on other instruments.
I also play the Ukulele.
Thus was born my new blog: Tales of the Traveling Uke. In it, I plan to share my stories of travel, my thoughts on food, and my experiences as an unbound musician.
I’m just a year and a half away from 40, and while I feel like I’ve accomplished so much, seen many places, but maybe only one tenth of one percent of all the places I’d like to see, my life is really just beginning.
I’m getting married in nine months. We want to have kids. The life that I thought I was ready for when I was reaching and rounding my 30s is finally beginning to materialize.
So here is my blog, where each week I plan to share stories of the past, present, and future, centered around music, food, fun, and adventure.
Enjoy.

Look for more stories of music, food, fun, and adventure in my new blog: Tales of the Traveling Uke. Subscribe here.