Confessions of a Big Mountain Telebomber

You have to take into account many factors when you talk about how you did at the Freeheel Life Cup at Grand Targhee. For starters, you have to factor in the nerves. Could I have been any more nervous? I don’t think so.

There I was in my first big mountain telemark competition: I had never skied the mountain. I had one inspection run on the course, but still had only the slightest idea of where the take offs and landings that I wanted to hit were. So forgive me if I drank what was available while waiting for my bib number to be called. At least I had a pair of bomber Bishop 2.0s on my boots. at least I didn;t have to worry about anything breaking.

When they called my number it felt totally unexpected. As in, I wasn’t ready to be called. I thought I had more time. But the guy with the radio motioned me forward. “You’re up, buddy.” I stood at the top of the run, looking down, trying to remember where that band of rocks was. Where was that cliff I wanted to hit? My first run was ragged and choppy. I didn’t exactly flail, but I wasn’t pleased with my performance.

But on my second run I found redemption. I pursued the exact same aggressive line as my first, except the second time everything was clean, pure, smooth. Nothing felt rushed. To make this second run happen I had to forget about the first, forget about the feeling of uncertainty, forget about the nerves, forget about the other competitors, forget about the sharky conditions — just stop thinking completely.