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Ya.......Da Chinese Downhill!

post #1 of 9
Thread Starter 
Name the Craziest/Stupidest Thing you've ever gotton away with (or even got caught trying to do) at a ski area,
And what the consequences were... if any :
post #2 of 9
Maybe not crazy but definately not smart. I was skiing Mt. Waterman outside of LA after about an 18" dump. This was an El Nino year so conditions were great all season but this storm was HUGE! A friend and I are going out of bounds to the west and skiing down to the highway and hitching a ride back up. By about 1pm that side was pretty tracked up so we tried the east side. We skied WAAAAY below the lift elevation and finally emerged on to the road...which was still covered in snow.

We didn't realize that road was closed east of Waterman and began the LONG walk back to the lifts. About 2 minutes after we started walking, a CALTRANS snowplow pulled up along side us and offered to drive us back to the lifts. We sat in the back of his dumptruck on a huge pile of sand!

<FONT COLOR="#800080" SIZE="1">[ October 26, 2001 08:35 AM: Message edited 1 time, by KevinH ]</font>
post #3 of 9
hey, I resemble that comment! (chinese downhill)

Ha ha ha..

By the way for those of you that have never heard the term "chinese firedrill" or similar,
for some reason way back when (who knows the origin) We Asians used to do silly things just to see if we could. One of the things was the Chinese firedrill which was,

with a full car, (4 or more people) when you pull up to a stop light, everyone jumps out, runs around the car one time and climbs back in. (sometimes we did it to switch drivers but most of the time it was just being silly)
post #4 of 9
The local hill would blow a fresh coat of snow for the "grand opening" every year and some local politician would start the lift during the obligatory "photo op".

During those last few years of high school Bill, Gene and yours truly would sneak up the hill at midnight and get first tracks. We could barely hold our grins as the area manager vowed to get the bums who ruined "his" snow.

Problem with our last prank was that buddy Bill managed to fall on his pole and started screaming that the pole went up the old chocolate speedway..... he hollered all the way home but, we just thought this was just his usual manic self (though he was begging to to taken to a doctor). The next morning when we stopped by to get him, his mom was pissed, he really was in the hospital....... seems the pole did actually go up his butt!

It was 6" of man made hard to ski in stuff, but I still can't comprehend the mechanics of just how you could position both the body and pole to accomplish this. It was the equivalent of the "Connoly Bullet" in the Kennedy assination!

<FONT COLOR="#800080" SIZE="1">[ October 26, 2001 03:49 PM: Message edited 1 time, by yuki ]</font>
post #5 of 9
Ummmm - no details, I'll just say it involved a person of the opposite sex, illegal substances, nighttime, skiing, a "borrowed snowcat", nudity, illegal fireworks . . .

Having been in the ski-biz full time for my entire adult life, there have been many other equally stupid or more-so moments! This is of course a pretty hedonistic industry/sport! :
post #6 of 9
got very intoxicated at a staff party up at Sunshine, and decided to take the ski-out at midnight - with beer in one hand! :
post #7 of 9
Me and one other guy did the last day tuck run in nothing but drop seat TNF pants with the drop seats open, no consequences, we blew through midway too fast for the volleys to see where we went.

One fine morining with 4 inches of new we figure 11ed every steep run on the hill, patrol director didn't see us, couldn't find witnesses, but lectured us. He didn't like the "example" the tracks set. It was funny cuz he was mad but really couldn't do anything about it. We didn't get snow for weeks and the tracks remained visible.

Left champagne bottles on top of the first chair towers off the upper lifts on new years eve. Thet stayed up there for several days. I'll never climb drunk again. The rest of that evening sounds quite similar to Todd's.

Years later I went back to my "home" and a youngblood told me one of his favorite stories is the one in which I figure 11ed No-Name and Nertz naked! Ha Ha, the two events had become one.

<FONT COLOR="#800080" SIZE="1">[ October 27, 2001 08:42 AM: Message edited 1 time, by Roto ]</font>
post #8 of 9
When I was going to college in Laraimie, WY. I taught skiing at a small Mt. called Snowy Range. Every spring there would be a big party and the hill sponsored and built a big water hole at the front of the lodge (freakin' cold!!!). the pitch coming to it was mellow, but there was no restriction to how far up the hill you could hike before hitting it. The goal for many was to hit the jump in front and splash down, while some tried to skip across without getting wet.

I had OTHER plans. After many beers and way too many encouraging comments from friends, I decided I was going to JUMP the whole thing. Never been done so I thought it would be cool to try. Oh yeah... I was going to do it without spilling any beer. (this is important)

I hiked really far up the slope and waited for the "all clear". I gulped a generous swallow of God's nectar (Jagermiester) and took off. Everything was going perfect. I had the speed, the jump was smooth, the wind was right. I hit the take-off hard and started a nice smooth 360. It was going great until I got all the way around and realized that I was going to be about 5 feet short of clearing the pond.

I slammed into the far side tips first and my head whipped toward the ground at somewhere around 2300 ft/sec. The beer bottle I was holding hit first and my stupid skull broke it. When I got up I had to pull a few pieces of glass from above my scalp line. The patrol hoisted my stupid ass to the Shquad Lodge and stabbed a few stiches in me.

I'm not sure but I don't think snowy range has had a Spring Fling Pond since that day.
post #9 of 9
Thread Starter 
Sprag: I laughed, I cried, I almost spilled beer reading this account. ( well, at the very least I had a good chuckle at your skull's expense)

And now for a confession:

Last season, at my (very small) local hill at which I happen to be on staff, some fellow instructors and I got bored with our steepest hill's normal assortment of unskiable buried Volkswagens. So to liven things up, we found a nice little mound at the edge of the mogul field and formed a good clear approach to it. Things were going well for a couple of days with some of the more daring skiers popping out into the air for a nice fifty foot drop with plenty of hang time for tricks, then skiing away cleanly. The whole thing from approach to end of the ski out was about 150 feet vertical, the middle third in the air.
Then the weather changed. A warm spell really softened things up and thinned the crowds down a bit for a couple of days during the week, so management closed the run - partly to preserve snowpack on this south facing trail, but mostly to not have to pay lift-ops to come in and work with nearly no one on this run.
Then I, the great snow sculptor that I am, : decided to "modify" the kicker just a bit. Easily done what with soft snow and all. Of course, how negligent it would be not to test it out, and since I knew I could get back to a running lift with minimal hiking, I did... several times.
I was growing more satisfied with the air time and comfortable with the approach so I decided one more go should be good, then I would leave it to freeze up again. when I returned to the top for my last test jump, a half a dozen kids around 12-14 yrs old were watching and asked where I was landing ( At the top the launch was visible but not the landing.) So I directed them to a spot on an adjacent trail where they could witness the master in his finest huck of the day :
In that fateful takeoff, I skated hard at the start, checked not one bit of speed and stayed in a Les Arc speed record tuck til I hit the lip....Sailed a beautiful 70 foot drop onto.... Quadricep-deep slush :
It seems I veered a few degrees left of and well below the normal landing zone, and now found myself in unsteerable slush at really high speed with skiis submarining below the surface and DIVERGING - Not good!!
Now I'm no olympic power lifter but with 60+ days on snow by that point in the season, I figured I had the legs to overcome this bad predicament, so I tuffed it out for a few more seconds ( probably a mere fraction, but who's counting -- Oh that's right: the audience of budding new-schoolers I sent around to observe and learn, along with two patrollers and several other baffled innocent bystanders)
Finally, I decided that without the Herminator's legs, there was just no graceful exit. And, with a snow fence and (closed) lifthouse sneaking up on me, I bailed. Now I figured that my whole self plowing into deep slush would grind me to a halt and end this embarrassing landing because physics were on my side....WRONG!
Just as I bailed, both skiis released while my body discovered a swath of very hardpacked snow (read: frictionless) made by groomers going to and fro most of the season.
I shot across and right square into a 5x5 post and snapped it off clean. (yes I keep it in my shed, as a powerful reminder)
when I finally unpacked my face, goggles, glove, coat, bootcuffs, waistline of pants, and turtleneck of all that snow and slush, I spit out the blood from biting my tongue and proceeded to locate stuff: hat was nearby, other glove about 15 feet away, one pole underneath me in two parts, the other about 30 feet downhill, one ski was found about 80 feet away while the other was actually lodged in a chairlift seat 10 feet up. I then realised how big the audience really was and the depth to which my pride had been injured .
I also figured out that the patrollers were watching from an angle which hid the post from their view with a spruce tree, so they likely assumed that I had a normal yard sale and was "luckily" caught by the stretchy orange fence. They skiid on.
The kids higher up saw the whole thing though and were high-fiving each other and trading "Holy Sh%t's" and "Dude that was awesomes's" while i limped back to the lift.
Turns out that two weeks later a doctor confirmed that I had broken my arm on the end of the tibia, and fracturd the lower part of the humorous, and cracked a rib.

The moral of the story:
There is no moral other than Don't be as F***ing STUPID as I was!!!
----> Slush is not a snow condition, It's a hazard. (So is Pride). [img]smile.gif[/img]

Ski safe and Don't show off (unless you have good Medical insurance). :
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