The Other Things...

My lack of single-mindedness allowed me to learn a few other things. Like riding a bike. Or integration with trigonometric functions (a trick that I've forgotten over the 25 years since I learned it). Or taking pictures...

I admire people that can give up everything to focus on one thing. Olympic athletes for example. Steve Jobs or Bill Gates. Anyone that's ever been elected president of the United States (perhaps with one exception). While I suffer from a tendency to get overly focused on something for short periods of time, I value the experience that comes with doing a variety of things.

So, I did. For example, I like carpentry and was bold enough to remodel the entire upper level of our house with lots of assistance from Diane. I don't mind landscaping. Or roofing. Or my passenger skills (which I wish I got to work on more often... I'd rather ride than drive). Or a whole host of other things that are practical. Some things I don't like (plumbing), or became too complicated (most automotive maintenance).

I'm learning how to be a husband and father along the way. There's nothing like family to keep you focused on what is important. It's a work in progress, but I think I might be getting better at it. You'll have to ask Diane, Kayla, and Dylan about that part.

Or a thousand other things. In short, the stuff that makes up life (like being able to fix a toilet). Credit goes to my father, Jay, for teaching me that most of the everyday stuff was within comprehension of average, ordinary people. It doesn't hurt to be enterprising... and cheap... and to have someone instill an interest in how stuff works. And the spirit that if you don't know how to do something, you can learn.

My other main obsession is music. I won't claim any level of mastery at music, but I will admit that it was one of the two pillars of my misspent youth (skiing and guitar--in that order). Ma bought me an acoustic guitar for my high school graduation (which is featured on the solo on this song -- Winter's Eve -- that will be featured on a cd that we'll hopefully finish this year) . Within months I bought an electric guitar and amp, and within a year I had a band. Our enthusiasm far exceeded our skills, but that's a big part of rock music. I never got nervous back then--I just rose up. I do now...

I agreed to do a show on April 1st for a private reception for an art event associated with the McKenzie River Trust called the Living River. It will feature songs from my 2006 cd The Blue McKenzie and other more recent material. Guitarist Mark and bassist Gary will be joining me. Should be fun.

I also got a note last week from my all time guitar hero Gary Green who is an acquaintance through the mailing list I manage concern his former outfit Gentle Giant regarding a song I wrote called "Looks Good on Paper" (warning -- the link makes noise). Gary said he liked what I was doing and it was motivating him to get busy writing and recording. I find it impossible to evaluate the value of anything I write, so I rely on others whose opinions I value and believe to be objective. For me, that simple note was a validation that I might be on to something. Or not. Whatever, I'm just doing my thing although I would love to sell a song to, say, a movie studio to put my kids through school. Probably won't happen, but one can always hope. That's not what motivates me to write and play music anyway.

Anyway, that's getting a little far afield of the topical matter of this blog. But, since I'm author, I can take author's liberties.

Dylan was ridin' with his posse today.

Dylan works the box.

Diane is the other team photographer.

Diane summits EPA.

The lots looking a little dry.

Today was a carbon copy (I don't think that anyone actually uses that technology anymore...) of yesterday. Sunny and cold, but warm enough to soften the base up and provide a bit of spring conditions.

We may get stuck on the backside if we don't start getting some more snow soon. No worries, we'll enjoy what we've got.

The One Thing...

The way I've got it figured, you only get to do one thing really, really well.

For me, that one thing would be skiing. It is the one thing that I've done long enough, at enough different places, with enough different people to say that I've actually mastered. In his book Outliers Malcolm Gladwell describes the 10,000 hour rule. The 10k rule is based on the the idea to become extraordinarily successful in a field is achieving early expertise and that to become an expert in a discipline requires on the order of 10,000 hours of practice.

Interesting concept--the 10,000 hour rule. I'm not convinced that's the right threshold, and that effort is all it takes, but there's something there. A little raw talent and ingenuity can also go a long way.

One would think that it would primarily apply to work. By my own estimates, I've logged somewhere between 50,000 and 60,000 hours as a planner/educator. I'd like to think I've achieved some level of mastery... or at least competence.

Back to skiing. As I've mentioned before, my parents started me skiing when I was seven. I'm pretty sure I took to it pretty quickly. By 12 or 13 I was on the Winter Park race team--which I did until I was 17. I clearly remember the point when racing clicked for me: it was on a snowy day at WP and our coach Sandy took us into the hut to warm up and give us some pointers. She described a certain position racers use that was an epiphany for me. My skiing improved instantly as did my racing.

Well, at least up to a point. You didn't see me on the podium with the Mahre brothers in the 1984 Olympics in Sarajevo. By the time I started to advance up the ranks in the USAA classifications, I'd lost my motivation. While skiing has been important all through my life, I never had the obsession and total commitment it takes to compete at the international, national, or even regional level. That was a personal choice, and one I can live with. So, I'll never be a Bode Miller, but that's not my path anyway.

At the same time, expending a certain level of effort, focus, and attention creates a special type of freedom. A freedom that allows you an overview of the big picture and all the moving parts, without having to think, worry, or fear that any one of them won't come together properly.

That's a level of freedom that I have achieved with skiing.

By it's nature (i.e., hurling oneself down a mountain on two boards), the act of skiing requires a certain level of attention or focus. That level of attention requires one to be, as they say, "in the moment." That level of focus also has an important side benefit: that everything else that in your mind becomes occupied by the one thing you are doing--the act of skiing.

That said, I'm not sure that I've actually put in 10,000 hours on skis over the course of 42 years. My back-of-the-envelope calculations suggest that it might be closer to 5,000 hours. My sense is it is enough to achieve my personal aims.

I suppose that is why it is called recreation, or maybe more properly re-creation. Whatever it is, and however it works, it works for me. It gives me something to look forward to during the work week, and clears my head and makes me more productive when I'm not skiing. That's why I've avoided being a ski patrol or instructor up to this point. I already have enough jobs and other commitments... why would I want to take the one thing that confers a level of personal freedom and make it a job?

I've often wondered whether living at a ski area and skiing a lot more would also undermine the positive effects of skiing. Maybe I'll have the opportunity to find out some day. Like any other discipline, there may be a time when I'm ready to share my experience, but not right now.

Enough of the psychobabble, onto today.

The finches were out in force up at the top. It may be that spring has already sprung this year. It's been sunny for a week now and the daffodils are blooming in town. I hope now--there's still potential for six or seven more weeks of skiing.

Dylan rocks the nose press on the wood rail in the woods. This is the only rail at The Pass right now since management can't figure out how to shove the real ones they have into the snow...

Diane smiling on a sunny day. Looking good, sweetheart!

Dylan airs off the "merge jump"

You go left and I'll go right.

Ridin' the rail.

That's the action for today. I worked from 8-11, then we headed up and got there just in time for the snow to be softening up. Overall, a good day. But, we better get some storms soon or the steep runs on the front side will be closing soon.

We may try again tomorrow.

Showdown!

Yep. It was inevitable. Throwdown at the hoedown. Conflict in the liftline.

Management of our little ski area has always been a bit questionable... to say the least. It's a bit of a fly by night operation. You never know when the lifts are going to break down, or if the parking lot will be plowed, or whether the lifties will flip the seat down for you as you get on the chair (see December 28, 2009 entry).

Now, as someone that's done some research on the ski industry and has a reasonably decent comprehension of what it takes to run a resort, I appreciate the challenges that ski areas face--particularly small ones. The uncertainties of weather (which are likely to get more uncertain), recreational preferences, and a host of other factors make ski area management risky business at best. Even the big ones sometimes go down (e.g., Tamarack last year).

That said, there's some fundamentals about being in the service industry. Fundamental #1: it's about customer service. No service, no customers.

Now, I love The Pass and have consciously avoided any criticism of area management throughout the existence of this blog. What comes next is more of a statement than a critique: Willamette Pass management seems to have missed the memo on the customer service part of the industry. I sometimes get the sense that their attitude is... "we can do whatever we want (or don't want), where else will the go?" We are a bit of a captive audience. Plus, it's a dynamite little hill.

That is all a preamble to today's story. Dylan has been raging for the past few weeks about the lack of park facilities at The Pass. He's been going into customer service every visit and asking when they'll add more park facilities. The party line "when we get more snow." My question is: "how much snow is needed to put up a rail?" I've seen the rails and I think it's about half as much as they have right now. How much does it take to put up a jump?

To compound all this, they fired their park dude for testing positive back in December. Imagine that, a snowboarder smokes pot. Ross Rebagliati won a snowboarding gold medal in Nagano in 1998 and tested positive. It must have been a real performance enhancer. Anyway, back on topic. The customer service people told us they still had a park dude after we had direct confirmation he was fired for testing positive. How disingenuous.

Dylan is raging so hard he set up a facebook group called "Willamette Pass needs better customer service/management." Now that's dedication to the cause.

So, today Dylan asked Tim Wiper, the owner, about why they don't have more park up. Tim, went on about snow and how hard they're trying. I was watching all of this from the front of the line, but Tim got all up in Dylan's grille and was challenging him. Intimidation by violating personal space. That's customer service for ya. I was proud--Dylan held his ground and made his point. He'll get little satisfaction, other than having said his peace. I had a similar "discussion" back on New Year's Eve 2005 when they closed the EPA to respace the chairs in the middle of the day. Closing your main lift at 11am, that's customer service for ya.

Will all this make any difference? I doubt it... unless enough of us band together to make our point. My perspective is that small investments in customer service can yield big and long term benefits. The kids love the park... if The Pass decided they were going to be the park for our region, I think the kids would flock to the mountain. As it is, they advertise having a half pipe... which they haven't built since 2002, despite plenty outstanding snow years (see blog cf Jan 1, 2009).

On to today's adventure.

I. Mt. Fuji (Oregon) from the top of Destiny.

Dylan tried out a few new positions in the air that were previously untested.
I.

II.

The best jibs are in the trees, built by rebels. In fact, customer service recommended that he go build features in the woods. Sounds like a great idea, eh?
III.

IV.

V.

There was also air.
VI.

VII.

VIII.

XI.

And finally, the nose press.

We got a few pics of me, but none were deemed blog-worthy.

That's it for today. It's the start of the Vancouver Olympics, so we salute all the Olympians and will be thinking about them on the hill.

Go Canada!
X.

Super Sunday

I probably have a blog entry with exactly the same title from last year, but I'm too lazy to look. Anyhow, as one might expect, the Super Bowl is no biggie in our household. It's worth a collective "meh" unless the Broncos are playing. Then we might pay attention. Maybe.

As I write this, the Colts are leading the Saints 16-13 in the third period. I missed the only part of the show I wanted to see: halftime with The Who. That's what we have YouTube for. Somebody's probably already posted it. I might make the effort to look it up, maybe not.

The conditions are such this season that The Pass seems to get a few inches every weekend--enough to keep conditions acceptable--but nothing to jump up and down about. Given that we've only had a few powder days, we have little motivation to leave early for first ride. Today we left around 11, got to the area at 12:30, and skied until 3:45. That was enough time for 12 runs and about 18,000 vertical feet. Not a big day for me, but since I've been hitting the tele's, it's more than adequate. I used the morning to read a couple more chapters in a book I'm reviewing, and let the birds out of our rafters that I trapped yesterday when I nailed a board over the eve vent. On that subject, we have a group of European Starlings that have been nesting in our roof for several years now. There's no upside to these trashy creatures. The downside is they crap all over our windows... among other things. So, this year I thought I would lock them out before they nested. I wasn't quite fast enough, but they're out now and will have to find another place to nest this year.

The conditions are also such that there is not a lot of motivation for me to alpine--no powder, no trees. Thus, I've been mostly telemarking for the past few weekends. Give's me a chance to do some runs with Diane, and slows me down a lot. That said, I am slowly gaining proficiency--and the required conditioning. Back in December I couldn't keep up with anyone and it hurt... a lot. Now, I'm ripping the groomers and starting to tackle the bumps. It's a work in progress.

From the department of bumper stickers I would purchase:

Diane and Dylan ride the Eagle Peak Accelerator.

Hey, wait for me!

Diane shows how to carve.

Dylan shows how to jump.

I. The grab

II. Jump the stump

III. Launching off the log jam... it's a lot bigger than it looks from this angle.

The weather was varied today, but it didn't rain. Bonus!

Reflections on Odell Lake.

Well, another Super Bowl mostly skipped. I guess I'll go watch the 4th quarter and see what happens.