Wagner Custom Ski Blog » skiing

Skiing ‘Round Our World

AJ Linnell — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 18:45:28 +0000

The concept was born in a hot tub while our wives listened with a mixture of yawning and “you’re nuts.” Fellow Fitzgerald’s teammates Dave and Katie Berglemann were unexpectedly also at Spring Creek Ranch for a romantic evening last fall, and the four of us ended up simmering in the tub during the pre-dinner hour. As one might expect, the talk turned to cycling, skiing, and ridiculous epic adventures.

I mentioned that Trevor and Andy had linked up Oliver Peak, Mt. Taylor, and Mt. Glory years ago and Dave (always game for a Good Adventure or a Bad Idea) promptly upped the ante to skiing a monster loop that included those three PLUS a bunch of up-and-down on the south side of the highway. Kind of a “what the fuck” idea that would probably never come together but could be a brilliant epic:

Start at Coal Creek. Up the West Fork of Mail Cabin and then up Lone Pine. Down into Burbank, over the divider ridge and down into the West Fork of Burbank. Up to the top of Oliver Peak, down the Banana Chute and out Stateline Canyon. Cross the highway, up through the scrappy brush to the top of Talbot’s Ridge, up Wall Street and the West Face of Mt. Taylor. Down the Southeast Ridge to Coal Creek, up to the top of Mt. Glory. Down Twin Slides to Teton Pass. Cross the highway again and ski down to the bottom of the Nose on Edelweiss. Up the Nose, down the back of Edelweiss, up Columbia Bowls, down the back into Mail Cabin. Out Mail Cabin to finish at Coal Creek and the car. Lots of human-powered miles circumnavigating the west side of Teton Pass.

Christ.

And then yesterday it all came together. It’s been weeks since our last significant storm, so we thought the trailbreaking would be relatively easy and with us both able to get the day off of work…

Of course, our gorgeously sunny weather totally crapped out and the skiing was more or less awful. So it goes.

Dave chose his rando-racing Supersuit for this day. The porn-star mustache is a nice touch.

The day got off to a ripping start when we skinned up Lone Pine in the foggy dark and skied down into what we thought was Burbank. The skin up seemed long but we just knew we were heading the right direction, and then we were standing at the top of the Do-It’s. I still can’t figure out how we managed that. An hour lost, maybe more.

But we recovered. Down into the Burbank Bermuda Triangle and eventually up Oliver. Remarkably, we mostly found existing skintracks for the first part of the day.

Ahh, Burbank. Photo: Dave Bergart

Where the fuck are we?

Gentle skinning through the fog up Oliver. Photo: Dave Bergart

Dave drops into the Banana Chute off of Oliver. This qualified as good visibility.

Even after crossing the highway to the scrappy south-facing slopes across from Stateline there was a skintrack down low.

Could have used a bit more snow down low, but the skintrack carried on.

Eventually it ran out and we were breaking our own trail. It turns out it’s a long way from Stateline to the top of Taylor. A really long way. Miles and miles.

Photo: Dave Bergart

Any guesses about the prevailing wind direction up here? Eventually even the Supersuit couldn't stand up to it.

The wind finally kicked up as we got higher, and though it wasn’t a total nuke-fest at the top we didn’t waste time in our transition either.

The upper Southeast Ridge skied pretty well–at least it was reliably unbreakable crust, with a skim of fresh on top. Once we got low enough for the temps to be a bit warmer, unbreakable became breakable and the skiing went all to hell.

Dave made it ski well.

Photo: Dave Bergart

Skinning up Glory it became clear that we were a couple of hours behind schedule, and would be finishing in the dark. Probably skiing our last couple of runs in the dark, actually. Such is adventuring.

The skiing down Twin Slides was relatively good, given everything else we’d seen. Windblown new snowfall had pretty well filled in the frozen chunder underneath, so while we got bucked around a fair bit there was also some smoother turning.

I called Erica from the Pass to let her know we were okay, and intended to complete the loop in the dark. She called us crazy. Apparently Katie agreed.

The best turns of the day were the pitch from the access road down to the bottom of the Nose, and then it was a too-long skin up to the top of Edelweiss with upper-body cramping and night falling. We both felt better on the skin up Columbia, aided by some food and a break in the clouds that let the near-full moon shine through.

**You might notice a lack of photos at this point in the story. It was dark. We were tired.**

While the skiing below the Pass was some of the day’s best, the skiing down the back of Columbia Bowls to Mail Cabin was undoubtedly the day’s worst. And we were doing it by headlamp. Regardless, we both got down it with all limbs attached and double-poled like demons to the car, food and chocolate milk calling our names.

And so we came full-circle, starting in the dark and finishing in the dark 12:45 later. Due to GPS mishandling neither of us got a precise story of the route, but I’m figuring about 25 miles with 13,000′ of climbing/descending. What an adventure.

Then there was a day of rest.

Check out more of AJ’s adventures at: Playing With Gravity

R-R-R-Romancing The N-N-N-Nugget

AJ Linnell — Tue, 15 Jan 2013 17:28:30 +0000

Brrrr.

The thermometer at the First Interstate Bank registered -15F as Parker and I drove through Jackson on the way to the Park yesterday morning. Who knows how cold it was at the Bradley-Taggart parking lot–colder than that, anyway. Regardless, it felt good to start into the mountains under brilliant stars with the whole range silhouetted against the deep blue sky of dawn.

Once again, we skinned away from the truck with puffy jackets on, and ended up wearing them for most of the day. Things just never really got warm, but they did get colder.

It was really cold crossing the lake. Check out that mustache!

Parker had been up on 25 Short a few weeks ago and spied a long couloir shot spilling into Avalanche Canyon from the col between Nez Perce and Cloudveil Dome. A little traverse below the top to get from the entrance couloir into the real run, a significant stretch of steep-and-narrow, and a monster chockstone at the bottom to add some excitement to the exit. All told, 3000′+ of snow with gorgeous rock walls, with high enough consequences for falling to focus things in on skiing well.

Fortunately he thought to take a photo of it. Aah, the wonders of the iPhone.Photo: Josh Parker

After agreeing that it would be a really fun outing and we should give it a shot we learned that it’s called The Nugget–maybe in reference to the chockstone at the bottom? Not the most inspiring name for a ski objective. Oh well.

We got a brief chance to warm up in the sun skinning past The Platforms…

…before skinning back into the shade in The Meadows.

Once again, we broke the rules in our approach to climbing/skiing. There are downsides to McLean’s maxim about climbing your ski objective first: it forces you to spend significantly more time in the bowling alley, exposed to the hazards above, and it doesn’t allow for ski cutting the top of a couloir to control whatever avalanche hazard may or may not exist before committing to it.

Besides, it’s just so quick and easy to skin up Garnet Canyon to the entrance col.

Photo: Josh Parker

I had initially planned to take my snowboard, and got so far as to put skins on my approach skis and set the whole rig out on the deck. Then 5 minutes before Parker showed up at my house I put the snowboard gear back on the rack and threw the Chipmunks on the Red Rockets instead. Somehow skis seemed like the ticket.

Was that ever the right choice! I had forgotten the joy of traveling through the alpine with lightweight skis and a light pack. So smooth, so fluid.

Still cold.

This might be the coldest I’ve ever been.

It felt SO good to top out at the col and move back into the sun. After cleaning out a small windslab at the top we pretty quickly got skis on and moved down to escape the spindrift showering around us.

A bit thin at the top!

Impressive wind ripping spindrift over Cloudveil Dome! Impressive mustache, too.

Once down to more pleasant climes we took some time to thaw out and eat food. Then the real fun started.

The couloir was full of honest-to-gawd stable powder! Admittedly it was peppered with frozen chicken-heads here and there, but overall we found mind-blowing snow quality. And it got better the further we skied down…

“I think I remember how to ski…” (I’ve been doing a lot of snowboarding lately.)Photo: Josh Parker

Aah, that’s right.Photo: Josh Parker

Parker frees himself from gravity coming out of the narrows…

…And keeps ripping turns.

This couloir just keeps going…Photo: Josh Parker

…And going…Photo: Josh Parker

…And going!

Arriving at the chockstone after thousands of vertical feet of powder skiing was daunting; it was hard to tell just how big it was, but it was clearly freaking huge. Some thoughtful soul had left an anchor, so after extending it with a bit of cord to make things more convenient we were able to throw the ropes and go.

Photo: Josh Parker

The big question was whether or not the ropes would reach to the bottom. I started the rappel with plans to build another anchor at the lip if necessary, but when I looked over the edge I saw the ends just touching down on the sluff cone below–phew!

There’s a sweet alcove under the chockstone with dripping water somewhere at the back of it that provided a huge powdery platform for us to hang out on while we packed away the ropes and got set for more powder turns down into Avalanche Canyon.

This was also where Parker discovered that the vital buckle on his faerie-slipper boots had snapped right off. Rubber ski strap to the rescue.

And then it was fast powder turns all the way down to the shaded coldsink at the bottom of the canyon. So sweet.

If anything, the turns just got better and better. It’s not often that a line like that holds such amazing snow. And we hit it on the one really sunny day in the last week.

I definitely have some day-after-a-really-cold-ski-trip-tenderness in my fingers and toes this morning, and a couple of spots on my cheeks. It was damn cold up there. Darn fun too.

Check out more of AJ’s adventures at: Playing With Gravity.

1.1.2013 Sunny and Cold

Brad Foley — Wed, 02 Jan 2013 16:23:23 +0000

New Year’s day brought clear skies and cold temps. I met up with Wagner skier Greg Hope for a few chilly laps in his backyard of Telluride.

Riding up with Greg Hope

New Year’s day video

The ski pass

Brad Foley — Sat, 01 Dec 2012 20:59:33 +0000

James and the Chicken

It’s more than a piece of plastic, a picture and a bar code. It’s days of skiing, hours on the lift…

Lift time

…never ending minutes waiting for “it” to open…

Gold Hill and the Outlaw

…seconds of BLISS.

Herby

The ski pass. Here’s to another great season

Wagner passSki Season

Alps in April

Chason Russell — Fri, 11 May 2012 18:34:31 +0000

There are hardly words to describe the sensation of being in the mountains as storm clouds that have been lingering for days, give way to sunshine and vistas of glacier covered peaks as far as the eye can see. Skiing becomes secondary, its all about being there. Soaking in the sights, feeding the un-satiable hunger of the soul to experience the world. Skiing is simply a means to travel through these snow covered peaks, and your skis the life line between you and a cold brew at the end of the day.

The rich ski culture engrained in the people living in and around the Alps makes sense. Far beyond recreation, skiing is life. Transportation between one valley to the next, often from one country to another. Feeling fortunate to have had the opportunity to experience these legendary mountains, the infrastructure that exists between them, and the culture which resides beneath these towering peaks.

Below is a slideshow documenting this short visit to the Alps. I couldn’t be more grateful to have had the opportunity to leave tracks in Tignes, Val D’Isere and Chamonix, France; La Thuile, Italy; and Verbier, Switzerland. THANK YOU to everyone who helped make this trip happen, and the crew at Wagner Custom for busting out the ultimate ski mountaineering skis shortly before my departure.

Click on the image below to view a slideshow from this adventure:

Click image to view slideshow

Skiing in the land of fire and ice

Brad Foley — Thu, 10 May 2012 01:28:30 +0000

Miriam, Ólafsfjörður, Iceland 2012

The thought of getting on the plane and traveling to Iceland not knowing what to expect yet knowing the possibilities of endless exploration and wonder await was keeping me up, I could not sleep. Iceland had never been on my radar as a destination for an off-season trip, certainly not after spending the winter in the snow, but sometimes strange things happen.

4:30 am the wake up and its time to rally and drive to the airport. 17 hours later we are at the Keflavik airport meeting up with the last member of our crew, Grant, then into the city for a night of what can only be described with one word, “Reykjavík”.

Checking the map on the Ring Road, Josh and Grant.

The next morning driving west out of Reykjavík we had lots of ideas but not wanting to set anything in stone for fear of we did not know we found ourselves on the western Snæfellsnes Peninsula, sunny skies, lots of snow and an amazing displays of northern lights in the sky above us. A truly spectacular place.

Snæfellsjökull from just above the road

Rising out of the Atlantic Ocean over four thousand feet Snæfellsjökull, the highest point in western Iceland, a giant in any landscape and a point of intense energy and lore, said to magnify feeling inside the soul of those who make the journey to the summit. After a long night lying on our backs watching the show of green and white light dancing across the sky we rose to a calm warm morning at camp. Coffee and a little food, skis and gear on our shoulders we started out, skiing in the land of Fire and Ice. Skinning up the rolling terrain past the old ski lift shack and towers that looked like something out of an end of days movie, missing towers, no cable or chairs, rusted, leaning and tired, we reached the ridge just few hundred feet from the summit then booted up to take in the view over the north Atlantic and snap a photo or two. Feeling energized, and alive we put on our skis and made turns down toward the ocean, something I will not forget.

Grant and Josh getting ready for an evening tour

Julia enjoying the late evening light

We had to bring the tree skiing with us. Josh W.

The old ski area on Snæfellsjökull

Making our way north and east from Snæfellsjökull to Akureyri and the Troll peninsula for more skiing we passed small fishing outpost, ate putrified shark from a “farm” on the northern coast, and sat in hot pots to revitalize our bones.

Josh looking for a new pair of cross country skis

Continuing north from Akureyri through Dalvik then to Ólafsfjörður, a picturesque fishing town at the end of a small bay we found all kinds of snow, soft turns up high, boiler plate, and amazing corn. The skiing around Ólafsfjörður is vast and diverse, with steep couloirs, mountainsides that appear vertical, and perfect bowls, all rising out of the ocean over for over 3000 ft. We stayed a few days based out of Akureyri enjoying the snow and sun.

Ólafsfjörður

The mountains of Ólafsfjörður

Josh enjoying his Wagner Custom Skis. Ólafsfjörður

Iceland is a hard place to come to and just ski, the waterfalls, boiling mud pots, geysers lakes and volcanic craters made the days fly by as we made our way clockwise around the island on the Ring Road.

Iceland getting the stamp of approval

Before our return to Reykjavík we stopped one last time at a small ski area (closed for the season) in the Blue Mountains. Looking down at Iceland’s largest lake we made a few last turns in the perfect corn. A great trip to a spectacular place.

In the end 2,972 km driven around Iceland, clockwise

Grant

Miriam

Josh

Julia

Thanks to Pete and the crew down at the shop for another fantastic pair of skis. My favorite ski ever.

That is the Sound of Inevitability

JayGoodrich — Thu, 22 Mar 2012 19:35:48 +0000

Owen Dudley Skiing Out of Darkness near Mount Baker Washington © Jay Goodrich

I stood there looking at myself in the mirror. The scene unfolding was reminiscent of a Hunter S. Thompson novel. Gritty face. Bloodshot eyes. A general foggy demeanor spiraling around my hungover head. The girl that was to become my wife was lying naked in the bed behind me. It was my first commercial photo shoot, there is absolutely no reason that I should be feeling this way. I grabbed for the Advil, Alka-seltzer, and water, need water. My tongue felt like I was a cat preparing to cough up a hairball. It is safe to say there were sweaters covering my teeth. I heard the music of last night’s party still ringing in my ears. I vaguely remember some nakedness to the point of mild porn in the gondola last night with hand-held flash going off as random as a dance strobe in a techno bar, but the fog was doing its best to hide any and all of those embarrassments. Did I really take it this far? I mean, I got paid to do this to myself. This was only a wedding for god’s sake. Was this going to be the rest of my life and career?

Almost two decades later, I was in the same place. A mirror, in a bathroom, with sweaters on my teeth. In Vancouver this time, not Vail. Yes, I was shooting an assignment. This time about the Olympics and ski dirtbags. It’s good to see that many things have changed and many things have not. I am married with two kids now. My wife told me to go and have fun. This wasn’t feeling much like fun. The dirtbags woke me up off of my couch at about 2am as the whole party went nuclear. Much like the light porn I still vaguely remember from the wedding in Vail so long ago, it began with a concept, a contract, and unlimited handshaking, touring, and of course skiing. I only remember my friends prying my eyes open and asking if I was awake. The smell of spilled red wine, tequila, and beer permeated the condo. We were supposed to ski today and the snow was falling out of the ski like never before on this journey. Very similar to the brain cells that were littering the floor before me.

My life consists of writing, photographing, and family. Sometimes there is a little sleep thrown in there, but most times not. I pushed for this career, I dreamt of it, I wished for it, and there are many times that the dream of frolicking through the wild flowers without a care in the world turns into the Freddy Kruger of nightmares. Like I have always said and probably always will, lob the grenade into the room first, then head in resurrect the broken and busted survivors to do it again on another day. Would I change my life? Sometimes there are parts that I would. Spending more time with my family so they don’t hate me so much, and trying to be a better man, I seem to be caught in the phase of always trying. I am standing on the precipice of 15 years as a professional photographer and writer and I am only truly scratching the surface of that lifestyle and occupation.

Many ask me how I do it? They want the remedy to fix their dreams, hopes, and career paths. My advice is always-Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you cannot do something. Envision it and go after full-tilt, like you were running from that brown bear and your life depended on it. The results will be shocking, almost to the point of perfection, if you stay away from the psychotic episodes. I have brought my entire personal life to my career and vice versa. I live the dream and the nightmare, every day. It is safe to say that tomorrow I will drop another monster backcountry line full of cold smoke powder and on Sunday will be shooting another hotel for Hilton. It’s all about living in balance with the world, nature, family, and concepts. Some days it’s as perfect as three feet of consolidated, bonded, trackless powder and other times that it is as rotten as a freezing trend after ten inches of rain. It is safe to say that tomorrow, I will fix the hand grenades of today and the cycle will continue. Inevitably.

Welcome to OZ

JayGoodrich — Fri, 16 Mar 2012 06:07:42 +0000

The Oz Couloir, Chugach, AK © Jay Goodrich

As the blades of the heli chopped hard at the air to move the machine off the ground, the wash churned up crystals of ice that scoured every inch of my exposed face. I had to watch. I was excited to watch. This machine defied all the laws. I looked to my friend Chris, he was staring as I was. I caught a wink from him out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t believe that I was here, for the eighth time in my life. That was the fastest it ever took me to get into these massive peaks. We hung on to a rocky outcrop that was as fine as a razor’s edge. HUGE drops to either side, eminent death.

I was quivering with excitement and fear. I knew what was ahead and was not totally sure if this dream was one I wanted to live down. Would reality kick me in the face like the rotor wash and send me cowering home? I clicked into my skis and stared down into the steepest line I have ever seen in my life. 3500 vertical feet of sustained 60 degrees in what looked like a band-aid strip of snow between monstrous cliffs to either side. I was off of my rocker. So were all of my friends. We even asked for this shit. Feared absolutely nothing last night while pumping the alcohol through our veins. Are you kidding? My stupid right leg began to shake. In the climbing world they call it “sewing machine leg” because you are so scared that something, some part of your body, has to release a bit of the tension, and it is usually your leg bouncing like a sewing machine.

The snow was the coldest I have ever seen. Three feet of untouched. If the beast didn’t let go and bury me under the “Alaskan Slough”. The Alaskan Slough is the equivalent of an avalanche anywhere else in the world. My eyes dilated. My heart was racing. I could hear my pulse. So could my friends. Our guide called out. “Jay, your first.” I looked up with blank stare. I was shaking my head on the inside in disbelief. I guess I asked for a little taste of OZ. Although, those monkeys were a little frightening. “It’s okay, ski that way until something gets in your way, then turn.” Stupid French girl, in that stupid 80’s movie. “5….4….3”, Al-Z shouts, “Stay out of the gutter.” Great, the avalanche rides the gutter. 60 degrees, 60 degrees, 60 degrees. Oh my god, is this truly what I wanted out of life. Hands shaking, both legs going, no way. I can’t do this. “2”. The radio blasts, “Al-Z are you sure you want them dropping into that? That thing is a slough monster”. Stay out of the gutter.” Pupils are so dilated they are going to burst. “1”. “Jay, DROP!”.

Fear pumped adrenaline, adrenaline brought excitement, a super deep breath, and all at once a calm came over me, I felt like I was home again.…“DROPPING”.

Beating the Storm

AJ Linnell — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 01:49:15 +0000

One day I’m riding powder on Teton Pass; the next I’m picking my way through rocks on skis.

The conversation went something like this:

Me: “I know there’s a 100% chance of snow in the forecast, but it’s not suppose to roll in until afternoon. We’ll be fine! Let’s get up there early and get it done before the weather craps out.”

Scotty: (Brief pause…) “Okay. Can I borrow a pair of crampons?”

That’s how we ended up motoring over the pass in the wee hours, with starry skies above. Storm? What storm?

Whoa! A beacon checker at the Bradley-Taggart Parking Lot!

As it turned out, we hit it just about perfectly. A shallow coat of new powder covered the skintrack into Garnet Canyon, making route-finding in the dark extra challenging but adding to the ambience. Sunrise from the Platforms glowed pink across the eastern horizon, and gave us a good view of the summits overhead–no storm yet, just some spindrift blowing down from up high.

Sunrise from the mouth of Garnet Canyon.

Smooth skinning turned to rock-hopping once we gained the upper south fork of the canyon, working our way through scree-fields and linking together snow patches. Eventually we strapped our skis to our packs for good, finding bootpacking more efficient, and climbed a combination of last winter’s bulletproof snow and old avalanche debris to the base of the Southwest Couloir on the Middle Teton.

Cimbing out of the canyon toward the Middle Teton.

Being a generally windward-facing feature, the Southwest is often wind-hammered and scoured away, and this day was no exception. It looked as though there was almost more rock than snow in there, so we alternated between kicking steps into firm windbuff and dry-tool scrambling through rockbands. As it turned out, there was more snow available than we initially thought, although there would be no way to link up an uninterrupted ski descent.

Scotty "dry-tooling" up some rock in the Southwest Couloir. Not entirely skiable.

Taking the last few steps up the rimed summit formation.

Lenticular clouds were forming over the South Teton as we reached the summit, and the Grand stood eerily to the north, coming in and out of view as clouds streamed past. What an amazing hunk of rock that is, with a wonderfully snowy cleft right down the south face. It could use some more snow depth before becoming really skiable this season, but is a beauty nonetheless.

AJ on top of the world.

Scotty on top of the north ridge, with the Grand Teton in the background. Just doing a bit of reconnaissance.

The obligatory summit shot. Unfortunately the incoming clouds were obscuring the unreal view down into the Idaho side of the Tetons.

"Hey, is this thing working?" Scotty learns to use his camera.

We took a bunch of photos from the summit and then scrambled back down to the ledge where we had left our skis. The first few turns were actually pretty fun–chalky and firm, with plenty of exposure below to keep it exciting. Then it deteriorated into side-stepping through thinly-covered rocks and full-on downclimbing to get to more skiable snow. Skis on, skis off, skis on, skis off.

Now, how am I going to get through this?

Maybe a little side-step...

...And maybe I'll take a seat.

Finally on some continuously skiable snow.

The trip down into Garnet was surprisingly quick, given how long it took us to get up there, and once we hit the top of the Cave “Couloir” the snow magically turned into creamy, fast powder. It felt awesome to open up some GS turns after chop-turning through the rocks above.

Scotty opens it up in the Cave "Couloir".

Stoked on creamy pow turns!

Garnet Canyon flew past in a blur of powder crystals as the two of us popped off of wind-drifts–so fun. Somewhere around the Platforms we stopped to take a look back up-canyon and received the day’s first face-full of snowfall. The storm had arrived, after graciously giving us just enough time to do what we came to do.

Scotty, stoked to be rolling out of the canyon just as the storm hits.

We turned our skis down-canyon again for another hundred or so powder turns, and all of a sudden we were back at the lake, double-poling our way across to the moraines and our exit to the parking lot. Eight hours after setting out we sat back in the parking lot with beer in hand, watching the high peaks become enveloped in the storm. So thankful to live in this magical place.

Good day in the San Juans

Brad Foley — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 23:38:00 +0000

Wagner skier Greg Hope doing what he does best on his custom Wagner skis, finding deep snow and blowin’ it up…

Greg Hope in Telluride

Touring with Friends

Chason Russell — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 03:10:51 +0000

Trenching in the Wasatch

Ski touring with your friends…. It is not always about getting the steep, deep, first tracks, or first D. It’s about doing what you love. It’s about being outside with your friends. Choosing the right terrain on the right days. Making good decisions. Taking memorable photos, and leaving nothing but sweet, sweet tracks. At the end of the day you and all your friends know the cold frothy beverage in your hand is well deserved!

Going deep in Ophir, CO

Deep Turns in Mustang

Brad Foley on the Alta Ridge

Cold Beer!

This year the touring in the San Juan’s has been limited by sketchy conditions, though it ‘s still possible to get out there. The big lines will be there later in the season. Conditions will change, new lines will fill in, when it happens we will be there. For more touring with friends photos, check out the web gallery at the following link: http://www.chasonphoto.com/SkiTouring/

Enjoy the journey, ski safely out there…..

The American Solar Energy Society recognizes the Wagner Custom ski factory’s energy and recycling initiatives

Pete Wagner — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 04:40:06 +0000

The American Solar Energy Society featured Wagner Custom skis’ ultra-modern, clean and green ski factory in its December 2008 issue of Solar Today magazine. Solar Today recognized Wagner Custom for its industry leading energy and recycling initiatives.

Wagner Custom is by no means perfect. However, the company has several energy and waste reduction initiatives in place that help reduce the company’s carbon footprint.

Regarding energy, Wagner Custom first focuses on simple energy efficiency and conservation measures to minimize their overall energy loads. The company’s entire factory floor is heated by a large solar thermal array (see image above). To offset its electricity loads, Wagner Custom purchases high quality wind-energy credits that support farmer-owned wind turbines in the Midwest (see Native Energy Farmer Distributed Wind Projects).

Regarding waste stream reduction, Wagner Custom recycles it’s steel and plastic scraps while reusing (and selling) its wood core scraps as kindling.

The Solar Today magazine feature can be seen on page 25 of the December issue at http://www.solartoday-digital.org/solartoday/20081112/