MOUNTAIN LIFE - Coast Mountains | Winter Spring 2019

36 MLCM WINTER/SPRING 2019 experienced similar untimely breakdowns and associated financial outlays. In fact, Gill also had a malfunction on the Spearhead Traverse, just a few seasons prior to Kubik’s, near the very same spot. Go figure. Like just about every AT skier, I look at my friends and wonder, “Why?” Timetravelbackfiveorsixseasons,andIcouldhave forgiven my friends for telemarking. For decades, telemarking was the best way to access backcountry powder. AT bindings were heavy, unreliable, expensive and just couldn’t compete with the freedom that telemarking allowed. But over the years, AT bindings have closed the gap and arguably surpassed tele bindings in terms of reliability, affordability, and ease of use. THE METHOD TO THEIR MADNESS So why do diehard telemark skiers cling to their expensive, frequently malfunctioning, outdated bindings? The answer, at least according to Kubik, is “soul”. “There’s just no other feeling like dropping a knee into deep powder on a steep slope and making a turn,” he says. “That’s why we suffer the constant aggravation and heartbreak.” “I’ve tried AT skiing,” Gill admits. “It’s fun, but it’s not the same. If you’ve ever surfed, it’s the difference between catching waves in whitewater and catching waves in the unbroken green.” I confess that on rare occasion, watching Kubik and Gill carve turns in deep powder at high speed, seeing them get so close to the slope they could kiss it, or enveloped in a powder cloud that lingers even after they’ve completed their turns, I sometimes wonder if I’m missing out on something. But even if I am, is it worth the aggravation? “Absolutely not,” Gill says. “I don’t even want to think about how much money I would have saved if I’d switched over to AT five years ago. It’s not just the bindings—the boots are more expensive and there are fewer options on the market.” “What if money was no object?” I ask. “Oh it’s not just the money,” he says. “It’s the frustration of constantly dealing with broken bindings and the ever-present worry that your gear will crap out deep in the backcountry”. “So why haven’t you switched over?” I ask. He sighs deeply. “I don’t know. I’m a telemark skier. It’s just who I am.” Kubik says much the same thing. “It’s a giant pain in the ass, it costs more money, but even knowing all that I’m never gonna switch to AT.” “But why?” I ask him. There is a long silence before he answers. “Because of those times when you make a tele- turn and there’s no other feeling like it. It’s like making love to the mountain!” MAYBE WE’RE ALL STUBBORN LUNATICS In the end, skiing of any variety (AT, telemark, or otherwise) is not a rational thing to do. You freeze your ass off all day for the privilege of flinging yourself down a mountain at high speed. It’s expensive. It’s hard work. It’s cold. It’s dangerous. We’ve been injured and had close calls. But we don’t care. We do it because we love it and there’s nothing else like it. We’re skiers—you either get it, or you don’t. And maybe that’s how diehard telemarkers feel about us poor AT schmoes. If we don’t get it then too bad for us, because telemarkers will always be happy to carve that turn just a little deeper, shave it just a little closer, and drag it out just a little longer than the rest of us. It’s just who they are. Literally knee deep,bro. Mike Gill, Metal Dome. December 2016.