Val-Disease 2008

Some people say that anyone can ski in Alaska. They’re full of shit. Sure, you do not need to be a professional “athlete”. Nor do you need to hang it out daily on double-exposed near death runs. You just need to be a junkie. You know, the type that sits around drooling over ski photos in July. Or the geeked out freak that sits in front of their computer in May writing about skiing in Alaska in March.

When it’s snowing in Alaska you can’t fly. When it’s windy in Alaska you can’t fly. When it’s cloudy you can’t see ten feet in front of your ski tips. So when it storms you sit. And pace.

Maybe the best ski guides in Alaska are the ones on Prozac. Come to think of it guides and clients alike should make the little green pill standard issue along with shovel, probe, and beacon. At least during down days you would actually use the pills.

Port of Valdez photo: Eric Henderson

Eventually, you put your skins on and hike into the ping pong ball. With no trees for reference you make your way to the couloirs above the Tsaina Lodge. Two thousand vertical feet later you are there—at the base of the coulior. Once inside you can actually see, the rock walls giving you reference, security, and hope. One thousand feet later and you are at the top.

Rick Hunt on Stairway photo: Doug Workman

With luck, a milky hole appears in the sky and you jump into the powder below. Ten seconds of joy before being confronted by the blinding whiteness of the glacier below.

Back at base more clients and guides stare at the sky hoping the clouds will burn off. Some are more realistic than others.

Don Sharaf asleep but ready photo: Doug Workman

Those that have played the game longest know it’s worth the wait. But not all have the patience. Eventually one or two clients pull the rip cord and venture home. Veteran guides grin, knowing that it often takes a sacrificial lamb to earn the favor of the Chugach.

Doug Workman reaps the rewards on The Wall photo:Mike Stoner