Thanks to Ortovox for sponsoring this avalanche education content. Check out the additional plethora of avalanche safety resources on their website.
A testament to a lifetime of thoughtful and conservative exploration in the mountains: At age 55, Mike is followed by Steve on route to a first ski descent of 20,000 foot Chumpe in Peru. It was their 20th career ski descent from above 6000meters. Photo: Jim Gile
I am not a guide, have no technical training to that effect, and, while I have read many avalanche books, I have never participated in any avalanche training courses. All of my experience accumulated in my 40-year career came from being in the mountains. I’ve never dug a snow pit, I don’t own a snow scope, and I can’t imagine skiing with a device in my pack that I could explode into a snow floatation bubble in case I ever found myself needing one and finding the presence of mind to release it. I am not suggesting this is altogether good either, so as a disclaimer, I am not bashing all that. Not even remotely. I have simply never felt a need to carry that stuff. My kit includes a probe, shovel, beacon, and my wits.
As renowned mountaineer Rudi Homburger once exclaimed to me in his Swiss drawl: “The snow shovel killed more people than it ever saved…” That was tongue-in-cheek Rudy, for even he carried a shovel. But, the point was well taken and attests to my seemingly cavalier attitude. This morning, for instance, I looked out the window and the thought of skiing fresh pow beyond the ski area boundary did not enter my mind. One guy messaged me, “What do ya think today?”
I responded, “probably not a good idea to ski powder today…..” and left it at that.
SPONSORED BY
He came back, “ I’ll dig a pit and let you know what I come up with.”
I politely said, “thanks.”
Over the years things have become clear in my mind. As the ski touring industry has exploded, enhanced further by COVID closing down many ski areas, people are rushing to go off piste. Manufacturers are sold out and retailers of AT gear are in heaven. One specialty shop told me that he was getting frustrated at alpine ski shops pestering him with gear questions and asking advice. But the alarm lights went off when I read that the professionals can’t keep up with the demand to offer avalanche classes and certifications; there are waiting lists to get into the classes and a shortage of trained professionals to teach the courses. Again, I fully support this education process. The fact that I will never achieve any level of avi certification doesn’t reflect remotely my feeling that this isn’t good stuff. So get in line and study the crap out of everything you can get your hands on.
But heed this: I recently published a book on my entire career climbing and skiing starting with my first trip to the backcountry back in 1974 at age 12. It follows the highlights of climbing and skiing locally in Colorado and includes dozens of ski expeditions throughout the Andes and Himalaya. I got a call from a guy who read it and shared it with some of his contemporaries. He was a wildfire manager and he contacted me to ask how we managed to spend all those days “out there” and how we had managed to stay alive. He pointed out a thread that admittedly I can’t take credit for; “I really don’t know” I told him, “ I can’t really put it into words”. He explained, “you did, this book”. My ego inflated because it was not a conscious effort. The book is just how we naturally progressed over the years. Ironically, the title – Natural Progression.
So we started talking and the subject at hand came up- snow science. He asked me what I thought and was not surprised when I told him I never took an avalanche class.
The field of study of snow science is relatively new. It didn’t exist when I started climbing and skiing. We relied on awareness from looking, seeing, poking around snow, and common sense. This was magnified with my father’s constant hammering for caution as he saw our enthusiasm for the game grow. He used to tell us that we needed to pay attention. When the slope approaches about 25 degrees in pitch, and he used a familiar ski run to point out what approximately 25 degrees looked like, he exclaimed, “at that stage, guys, it’s not a matter of if it will slide but when!” “THINK and respect that!” he would emphasize. He was teaching us about “warning lights”, a lesson that we never forgot, not just about snow, but weather, conditions, everything. LOOK FOR THE WARNING LIGHTS!!
As this relates to snow science, in my view, the entire field of study is well intentioned and adheres exclusively to this notion of warning lights. The snow pack, the crystals, the layers, and on and on, and the tendencies are all part of a field of study that is applied to this notion of “ ….when the slope approaches 25 degrees, THINK!” But the study has morphed into something altogether different as I watch climbers and skiers in the field digging pits, doing sheer tests, and analyzing what to me is critically obvious.
Have you ever been seated in an airliner waiting and the pilot comes onto the PA system and exclaims, “Ladies and Gentlemen, a warning light came on in the cockpit and we have a smoke detector light in the lavatory that won’t go off….” or a variety of other minor things that make a warning light go off, “and we can’t take off until all warning lights go off by regulation.” On one such occasion, the pilot actually followed it up with “……until all lights are off, we can’t tell if it’s minor or something else…..It’s for your safety…..” Then when the lights go off, everyone’s mind is at ease, including the pilot, and you take off.
In the mountains, it’s no different than that cockpit warning light going off. But, what I am seeing in the study of snow science is something different. It snows two feet, and people are heading out to “dig a snow pit, I’ll let you know….” Today, guaranteed, you will see many enthusiasts digging snow pits, doing tests, etc. I get it, some of this is to put that certification to the test, to look and correlate what people have learned. It’s interesting and fun!
But as is the case every time it snows, like it did last night, the accident reports are also almost guaranteed over the next few days. It’s as if the education is being interpreted to mitigate the warning lights, or to find data that allows people to get around them when the reality is nothing but time will eliminate the warning lights after two feet of snow falls on “shitty” snow.
The good intentions of the snow science education are being used to justify the human emotional need to ski powder. I used the specific term “emotional need” here because while it’s an entirely different subject and probably the most important and under-taught topic for the backcountry education process that leads to accidents so I will sum it up with this: when studying snow science, keep your wits about you. Beyond the technical aspects and jargon, at 25 degrees, especially right after is snows, THINK! In all my years in the field, this is guaranteed: No slope of powder is worth your life, and every single slope will still be there for you to ski when all the warning lights go off. “It’s not a matter of if but when….”
Be careful out there.
Mike Marolt is an Aspen based ski mountaineer who, along with his twin brother Steve, has had a long career of exploring the mountains on skis. His book Natural Progression was published in 2020. Read Lou’s review, and purchase here.
31 comments
Thank you for a very timely and thoughtful article! Like you, I’ve never taken an avy course in 4 decades of BC skiing but I’ve read many books including solid offerings from experts like Bruce Tremper over in Utah. My avy education came from grizzled old BC vets back in the 80s who did it all by an educated gut feel long before avalungs, airbags and even beacons. I continue to thank them all these decades later for teaching me to have the intelligence to say NO to a line(in the BC of course) and when to say NO in a bad snow year. I’m passing this thought process off to my boys in college as they understand the desire to stay alive and haven’t given in to the fall back rationale of “at least he died doing something he loved.” So for now I’ll keep skiing low angle(under 25 degrees), boring lines and meadows while I read every CAIC accident report and shake my head that another adventurer is sadly lost.
The snow science and the behaviorial science each must be recognized regarding evaluating avalanche hazard and avoiding putting yourself in a bad situation. Its great to study the science and collect data to track snowpack structure and development over a season. Its also important to recognize the inherent variability of what that data represents and to approach the mountains with an awareness of your own vulnerability and lack of certainty in any snow pit measurement to match your desired route.
This is a great piece (more like the Wildsnow of old), and very relevant this year.
Whilst I’ve done some training, I do think the courses and knowledge seem to ’empower’ people to take on more risk in order to chase the lines seen in ski films. Im not interested in learning about temperature differentials or looking at crystals, or wasting my time digging a pit. I ski solo the vast majority of the time, but some of people around me are helping me gather data by jumping on steeps after recent snowfall and getting wrecked.
I just keep my thought process pretty simple nowadays – wait 24-48hrs after recent loading for a start before getting on steeper faces. Go out with an opinion on stability, then look for red flags/signs to verify my opinion. Never pass up a test slope. Start small and build up.
Totally reasonable approach. It would appear to be molded by a lifetime spent in the sketch continental snow of CO. Certainly there are some places, typically more maritime where you do go skiing the day after it dumps 2 feet and a pit helps to know if anything out of ordinary is going on. Simple rules can work best. In Chamonix people used to say you can ski safely when the snow has fallen off the trees in the valley. But people don’t follow that any more because it’s a race to the freshies. The normalization of risk in crowded areas, partly by use of social media to show off, and competition for powder may be our biggest challenges to making smart decisions today.
Mike enjoyed your old school essay here and checked out Lou’s review of your book. I have a great respect for alpinists because I am not one. I am simply an old powder hound who moved into the back country back in the 90’s when the resorts started really getting skied out. I have a gut feeling that a majority of the newer bc skiers will think that 25 degrees is way to uninteresting to use as a guide where as 35 seems to be the modern take.
I too have never taken an avalanche course because as a ski bum I couldn’t afford one and I wasn’t going to miss a powder day because of a class.
Like you I read and read and applied that information as well as advice from mentors and the old Boy Scout motto of “Be Prepared,” or as Jack Reacher famously says, “Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.” One last thing, “I’ll buy your book if you buy mine “The Snow Leopard Manuscript.”
Fantastic article and mindset. I’ll be sharing this around.
Respect the perspective of the author, and think his approach beautifully sums up the psychology concept of “thin slicing”.
Ian M. make a great point as well. SLC is my home, and it is clear that competition for powder drives people to accept higher risk, as it surely does in all over the west. In this environment, Don’s 24-48 hour rule, and build up looking for warning signs, rule out certain high profile runs which are immediately hammered after every storm cycle.
I hate to be yet another guy who learned to ski in the Rockies back in the late 1960’s with old grizzled advice, but this little mantra has kept me alive for 53 years of skiing:
Want to ski the backcountry steeps? Wait for spring consolidation of the snowpack!
May & June are still my favorite months to ski in Colorado.
I think the author is on to a general misconception in many backcountry skiers’ minds; that risks can be mitigated by knowing that they’re there and I appreciate him for calling it out. I do think the implication that AAIRE courses only teach snow science is frankly false. There is variability in what specific instructors emphasize but most all courses have cautious decision making highly prioritized in their rubric. I think the author should consider taking an avalanche class (when the waitlists have disappeared) and see if he still thinks the classes are at fault or if the people taking them are listening to the wrong things.
I remember recent a discussion on a Podcast (the avalanche hour?) with an avalanche instructor, who talked about this challlenge in beginner group classes. Who do you aim your teaching at? Is it someone who wants to avoid all avalanche risk as much as possible? Or is it someone who yells ‘YOLO’ and is willing to accept much higher risk?
Trying to balance that must be hard. Both in the standard curricula and the actual delivery in the field.
In reference to Sam H. and AAIRE 1 courses, they have, in my experience, moved away from an emphasis on snow pit/snow analysis, more towards careful use of avy forecast + careful pre-planning + careful terrain assessment on your tour + careful decision making + awareness of common heuristic traps. My first level one course was in 1984, another in 1996, and most recently in 2018. In 2018 we still dug pits, but spent little time on snow metamorphosis, annealing, etc., and more on psychology, thinking, planning, terrain, and the forecast. I think this shift is a good one as it is far more applicable by more people, more of the time. Snow science matters, but if you only have your AAIRE I students for a limited time, send them home with a new mindset.
I took my AIARE 1 two weeks ago. It had a big emphasis on decision making in that human factors/triggers were what got people in trouble. Plan in a relaxed environment (coffee, avy forecast, CalTopo w/ slope shading, GoogleMaps…), observe and be vocal, re-evaluate, check egos, experience doesn’t mean leadership, call each other out against pow/summit fever, stick w/ the current plan (routes, meet-up spots, aspects/elevations), and debrief/learn.
The snow pit day was pretty cool though. Tahoe still showed the Dec 11th PWL and another faceted layer, but the compression tests held up. Then two days later a foot dropped overnight and so many incidents happened. It was very sobering and real. I can only imagine what the UT/CO folks are going through.
The rationale for digging pits for me is not decision making. It’s curiosity, learning and contributing (as in citizen science). That said, I will rarely dig a pit as it’s simply wasting too much time that could be spent skiing, observing and managing terrain. In that regard, any course that focuses on snow science beyond a brief overview, is missing the mark. As is telling people to dig pits.
The problem with this approach is simply that you can’t tell what/if a weak layer is somewhere beneath you. The 2-3 day (and other old timey) rules are simply irrelevant for certain cases. Especially true in places like CO and other depth hoar prone areas. So your choices are either to ski the steep stuff in ignorance (mostly true whether you dig or not), or stay on low angle slopes.
The old timey rules are also becoming irrelevant due to the climate changing whether you want to believe in it or not. This season has been a great example… you get a meter of cold powder and then immediately followed by rain up to highest elevation, then a cold snap for a week at -20°C and high wind then suddenly spring with +10°C again up to highest peaks. It’s a rollercoaster that has no precedent in recorded history, making it almost impossible to have confidence in anything approaching the established interpretation of steep.
Good comment on climate chaos. If you’d like more info on why these cold hot cold hot storms are the “new normal”… and why it can be zero at the Texas gulf coast and 85 on the florida gulf coast study up at weathermodificationhistory.com. humans have been changing the climate for decades and currently CO2 is not as concerning as wild west weather modification by dozens of countries and hundreds of organizations globally
I really enjoyed this article because it emphasized what I have learned throughout life, profession and backcountry adventures- there is no substitute for experience. When I was 22 I fell in with a group of skiers that were 10 years older than me and I never looked back. I was too busy gleaning as much information off of these guys as possible. I used their experience to gain my experience and now I am passing my experience on to my son and daughter. Avy 1 is a great to expose some of the unobvious dangers of BC to the novice, but you can’t replace experience with anything. And God bless the avy forecasters out there that provide us with information throughout the seasons when we’re unable to be out there everyday. I just yesterday returned from a yurt trip in central Idaho where we skied up to 1 meter of fresh powder for 4 days. It was incredible. You can find and ski “the goods” safely if your wise and know how to use terrain. That reminds me, I think I’m now in the market for a set of skis with a 120 waist just for weekends like this past. I look forward to April or May when the “COVID Entry crowd” puts their equipment up for sale!
I ski in maritime climates, california and the French Pyrenees, where i am this winter.
I dig a pit every time i go out, unless the snow is consolidated.
All my skiing is in couloirs, fairly steep.
I avoid days with buried faceted layers, but she slabs are manageable for me.
I’ve turned around many times after propagation in an ect test
But of course we don’t have the continental snowpack that the Alps or Rockies have.
I would probably ski in the backcountry a lot less in those climates.
Very much enjoyed Natural Progression, and agree completely with Mr. Marolt that one’s common sense and wits are by far the most important backcountry tools to have in one’s possession.
However, I take issue with the notion that avalanche education doesn’t materially improve the decision-making process in the backcountry. Further, the issue is not the use of the tool, but much more importantly, using the right tool for the right job. Anyone who uses a snow pit (as the only data input) to make a decision whether or not to ski a given slope is (potentially catastrophically) using the wrong tool for the job, and completely misunderstanding snow science processes/tools. Snow pits are by themselves only a single data point for a particular point on a particular slope. They should only be used to confirm one’s opening hypotheses for the day (i.e. the avalanche forecast, etc), and should NEVER be used to overrule them. This lesson is explicitly taught in formal avalanche education. The problem is some users either ignore or misunderstand it.
Backcountry travel is, of course, all about managing uncertainty and mitigating risks. In a Continental snowpack, waiting 48 hrs is a great rule of thumb to deal with the most hazardous uncertainties. Conservative is certainly the best way to become an old skier – as we all know there are no old, bold skiers. But, “rules-of-thumb” can also be supplemented quite valuably with more data points gained from a trended understanding of the snowpack (from professional as well as personal data), coupled with terrain management choices appropriate to the hazard of the day.
Here in the PNW with our Maritime pack, most of the time, one can travel quite safely without waiting two days after a storm -present PWL circumstances being a material exception. The inputs (properly applied) of the professional evaluations of the hazard, recent evidence/user observations, and making one’s own evaluations of the snowpack and weather, all just help make for better decision-making, and better ability to more safely manage the uncertainties. Going without these inputs just means making more conservative decisions in the presence of the higher uncertainties.
The combination of as much data as possible, PLUS the knowledge/wisdom/rules of thumb to properly apply it is by far the best approach, IMO. As Mr. Marolt points out, all the data in the world doesn’t help if you apply it incorrectly or use it to overrule common sense.
As you and I have discussed Mike. There has to be a shift in the thought process taught by scientist/educators, and gear manufacturers. The current paradigm is geared towards finding a reason TO GO as opposed to NOT GO despite obvious fact patterns to the contrary. The cockpit warning is never ignored before a jet takes off! Why is it different for backcountry travelers? The mere fact someone feels the need to wear a flotation device is a “warning light” enough NOT TO GO. That said, who am I or anyone else to say someone is “stupid” for skiing here or there? If someone wants to take certain risks so be it. Just make sure you plan appropriately if you have others counting on you for anything. And remember-if it’s over 25 degrees it might not go when you are on it; but it’s gonna go. THINK, and be safe. Last thought: you might not know it but we all have someone counting on us!
Hi Mark and Steve. I think your message is incredibly valuable. It really does seem like many accidents could be avoided if the message was widely disseminated that 1) it’s best to stay away from avalanche terrain for 2-3 days after big storms, 2) it’s best to stay on slopes of about 25 degrees, and 3) it’s best to simply ski elsewhere if you ever feel like digging a pit or wearing an airbag. That said, and with all due respect, I think your statements are somewhat disingenuous, and undermine your larger point. Are readers to believe that, in your long careers skiing 6,000 meter peaks around the world, you 1) always has perfect knowledge of all warning lights, or even that you identified all the warning lights that you potentially could have, and that 2) you always heeded those warning lights, and only skied “25 degree slopes,” or, more broadly, only took calculated low risks? The fact of your careers guarantees that you have both been way out there in terms of risks, in environments far beyond your control, whether or not you understood or acknowledged those risks, and that you went anyway, you choose “Go,” because that’s how humans who do the kinds of things you do behave. If you claim that you are somehow different–that you are operating in and different risk assessment and decision making world–then we would have to believe that you have reached a plane of existence above the countless incredibly skilled and experienced climbers, skiers, and guides who have lost their lives in the mountains. You survived, but that should not be used as a validation or justification of your approach. I believe that you share a robust risk assessment and decision making strategy, as well as a strong partnership and ability to communicate–factors that surely contributed to your success and survival. But I’m sure that more than a little bit of luck was involved. That seems like a better starting point for trying to figure out what we do in the mountains, than believing that you are in control. Furthermore, to claim that others are of course free to take whatever risks they like, as long as they acknowledge the moral or ethical obligations they have to the people around them, is both hypocritical and patronizing. To repeat, you evidently choose “Go,” in the face of substantial risk, over and over, despite the fact that many people likely depended on you, emotionally or otherwise. For the record, I’ve been skiing and climbing for 20 years, but I’ve never taken a formal avalanche course, nor dug a snow pit. I do occasionally wear an airbag, even when I think I don’t think I need it, because I know that I’m all too likely to make mistakes. And no matter how much I might wish this not to be true, I do take risks in the mountains, whether I recognize them or not. Balancing that certainty with the irreconcilable possibility of hurting my family is one of the great existential dilemmas of skiing and climbing. Bruno.
Instead of posting my own response, I’ll just say instead that I largely agree with you Bruno.
One thing I do find odd in several comments is the belief that wearing an airbag pack is some sort of sign of recklessness, but wearing a beacon and bringing a shovel and probe is a wise choice. Both are implicit acknowledgements that you might make a mistake and get caught in an avalanche and are ways to mitigate that risk of a mistake and getting buried. Why can you not imagine using an airbag, but wouldn’t ever go out with a beacon/shovel/probe? Seems like an odd dichotomy to me.
Unless the beacon/shovel/probe is not for yourself but strictly for rescuing other parties who have been caught in an avalanche….
An probe beacon shovel are for others yes. Air bags were originally designed for professionals who often had to be in avalanche terrain to control it. While I did say I wasn’t bashing “all that” I never felt a need to use one because I never found myself heading into situations where I needed one. These devices can shade the warning lights mentally and for me, the rule I spelled out in the article, conservative as it is kept me out of ever needing one.
Wonderful article. Couldn’t agree more (even though, as a professional ice scientist (though *not* avalanche professional), I’ve dug my share of snow pits. But I have often been concerned by the “dig a pit, carry the right gear, and you can ski anything” I sometimes perceive out there. And the ease with which we can now ski steep slopes in lousy conditions — because of the incredible advances in ski, boot, and bindings technology — adds to the tempation to ski rather than think. I’m pretty happy on shallow slopes, or waiting till the spring corn season for the steeps. We’re fortunate that in the Pacific Northwest, the stable corn season can be several months long.
I started backcountry skiing in the early 90s, my “instructors” were the older guys I climbed with in the summer who were also experienced alpinists. I learned a ton from them and they were my primary knowledge source (along with a couple decades of personal experience). Then, I took an AIARE level 1 course lat year and I’m happy to say, I learned some new things! I feel I was pretty safe before. I have a long track record of making good decisions. I also glad I wasn’t afraid to increase my knowledge later in life to hopefully, make even better decisions in the future. Great article, keep it up!
I agree with everything in this article and it made me contemplate the role that dumb luck plays in the equation. I’ve enjoyed 30 some years of backcountry skiing in Colorado, BC and Alaska and as much as I would like to credit my good judgment, avalanche training and real life experience, I would be remiss if I didn’t give a nod to pure chance. I acknowledge this as part of a practice of second guessing my own narrative. The oder I get the more I realize I don’t know as much as I thought I did and I hear a slight air of smug confidence in some of the remarks and it reminds me to check myself.
Best article ever.
I’m almost, but not quite, at a loss for words on this matter. I first toured in the bc in 1958. Our party encountered Stuart Mace and his sled dogs. That’s probably why I remember it. Later, friends and I skied the Mary Jane Stock Driveway on powder days. A period followed where primitive nordic touring gear was drafted for purposes it could not accomplish. And so on, until now.
I dug two snow pits ten feet apart in an avy class back in the mid-nineties. They were very unlike each other, and I abandoned that practice. Mostly now, I just try to pay attention, both to the present situation and to the local history of the snowpack. I probe the snow with a ski pole as I go and sometimes try to trigger a slide before skiing a steeper slope.
When skiing solo I don’t carry a beacon, and when I do carry one I don’t think it makes me one bit safer. I will not carry an airbag; they make no sense to me. However, if I were a guide, I would require clients to do so. Fortunately, I’m not a guide. I carry a shovel because a shovel is a useful tool for many purposes. A probe, too, since they are light and good for measuring snow depth.
So far, so good. Neither I nor my companions have been caught in a slide nor required professional attention for a ski injury.
This kind of discussion is important. Things I think about: situational awareness (it is essential); safety (it cannot be purchased); and luck (it plays a role – both good and bad).
“The book is just how we naturally progressed over the years. Ironically, the title – Natural Progression.”
Maybe I’m slow but I don’t see the irony.
Darren is right. The title is appropriate not ironic.
Great, great article which represents my feelings exactly. I am old school, but I’ve had all the modern avalanche training as well. I’m not knocking knowledge, but I haven’t seen it greatly improve decision making. Here in Chamonix, as was the case when I lived in the NW, people go out in just the most stupid of conditions, professionals and private people. I mean absolutely stupid situations. One doesn’t need training to see that. There are various social reasons for that as well as other reasons. Just as Steve Marolt said previously in the comments, for the U.S., here the French government felt that there was a push towards finding a reason to go versus finding a reason to turn back. Certainly fits with the testosterone driven French guide mentality. Sorry for that comment but it’s true.
A few years ago, there were so many experienced French guides dying with and without clients in avalanches that the government directed ENSA to look at its training. Among the lines of what
(Seems like my comment got chopped a bit), Along the lines of what Steve Marolt commented already, the French government directed ENSA to look at whether it was only training people to go rather than turn back.
Mike,
Your thoughts mirror my experience in the mountains.
George Lowe
Comments are closed.