Wagner Custom Skis and Snowboards Blog » Skis

The Future of Skiing

Pete Wagner — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 21:43:22 +0000

Skiing Magazine just released a list of 28 people, products, and inventions that are revolutionizing skiing. Wagner Custom showed up on the list. Check out the article.

The Future of Skiing is... Wagner Custom

Thanks for the recognition, Skiing Mag.

Scott Kennett: 51 Years Old and Winning Freeskiing Competitions

Pete Wagner — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 21:52:58 +0000

2008 & 2009 US Masters Extreme Skiing Champion. Photo: Eben Wight/MSI

Wagner Custom Factory Team Rider, Scott Kennett, age 51 won the U.S. Extreme Masters Championship last spring, for the second year in a row. We talked to him about the Crested Butte competition.

Us: The competition was pretty tough there.

Scott: Well, some of these guys have just turned 40 and are just out of the pro class. And they’re Crested Butte locals, so they know the terrain cold, and I’m coming in from Telluride.

Scott Kennett airs Cheeseburger Rock during the 2009 US Extreme Skiing Championships

Us: What keeps you going?

Scott: I have the passion. I’ve competed all my life, starting with motocross at 11. And by now I feel I have to compete at something, have something to train for. I need that goal or purpose. Besides, it’s healthy to get involved in competition. It’s a reason to get up earlier, eat healthier, get in the extra run. If you just sit around on the couch, you rot.

Us: How do you prepare mentally for an event?

Scott: I still get just as nervous as I did as a kid. I used to use Rolaids to settle my stomach. Now I channel the nervous energy. I visualize winning. I focus on this idea that “I love this and live for this.” It turns into that feeling like you’re in love. I stay focused on the goal, and go there saying I’m going to win. That way I don’t stress out. I visualize the perfect run and never have a negative thought – think positive thoughts all the way. It works if you have the desire and mindset to win.

Us: What’s your training routine?

Scott: I ski a lot in the backcountry. In Telluride that requires some hiking. It means working hard at higher altitudes, and skiing varied conditions. I try to get a lot of runs – I do long days with two or three runs, skinning up radical terrain. Meanwhile, Telluride keeps opening up more and more radical terrain, like Lower Bear Creek.

Us: Isn’t that where you got hurt sometime back?

Scott: It was six years ago, and it was out-of-bounds then. I hit a tree and did a compound tib-fib fracture. The patrol guys had to haul me out of deep heavy avalanche terrain, and they kicked me off the mountain for two years – about how long it took to rehab. And now it’s legal. The Forest Service said “Maybe we should open this up.” Maybe I opened it.

Us: What else about training?

Scott: I watch the diet. I eat pretty good. I drink mostly alkaline water to counter lactic acid. I have a machine that treats the water through electrolysis at the sink. It changes the pH level and filters it. I eat elk meat a lot – we all hunt. Each year someone in the family gets an elk and we share it out.

Us: You’re still coaching freestyle?

Scott: It’s fun to go to events and coach kids. If I’m going to be there anyway, I feel I can compete.

Kennett Freeskiing near Telluride

Us: What gear did you use at the Extremes?

Scott: I’m in the Lange Banshee Pro Freeride. I’m an oldschool bumper. I used to use the Raichle Flexon Pro. Now I get boots from Lange and try to get the flex and lean of the old Raichles. I hate to get in back seat so I put shims behind calf and crank the boot forward. For bindings I have the Salomon DIN 16. The track for the heel binding is reinforced with steel so it won’t deform like plastic. In the backcountry I’ve been on Marker Dukes, but I’m going back to the Fritschi Freeride this year. It’s better in crucial situations because you don’t have to take off the skis and your glove to convert. You can do it with a ski pole and go right into sidestepping.

In the contest I’ve used the same Wagner Custom skis for two years and they’re still holding up. It’s my best-friend ski. I might have worn the bases off from tuning but the ski still has plenty of life. I’ll have a pair made just for backcountry powder, really wide with normal sidecut and camber but a rocker tip. But I’ll compete on the original Wagner skis.

Us: What’s next? If you win a third time, do you retire the trophy?

Scott: I’d like to win five, and then call it quits. I need to keep that passion for competition. I don’t know many people who’ve done as many extreme events as I have – Alaska, Colo, Argentina, France, all over. Even if you don’t win, it’s great fun to be involved.

American Made: Shred White & Blue

Pete Wagner — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 20:33:40 +0000

Peter Kray is a great guy and prolific, talented writer (check out The God of Skiing series). You might know his work from The Mountain Gazette, Ski Press World, or one of many other cool publications. Recently, Peter has been working on a new project called Shred White & Blue which celebrates surfing and skiing in the United States.

Shred White & Blue did a quick Q&A with me recently about Wagner Custom’s American Made skis. Check it out here and take some time to look through the Shred White & Blue site. As you’ll see, the content is impressive.

Click Here for Shred White & Blue Q&A with Pete Wagner

Dreamy Ski Descent of Volcan Lanin

Chason Russell — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 15:14:01 +0000

Words and photos by Chason Russell

Road to Lanin

An unsuccessful attempt in 2001, illusive yet again in 2006, and topping the list during the years in between. At 3776 meters Volcan Lanin was consuming my thoughts. This time around, in the beginning of October 2008, I would go for it again. As the chairs stopped spinning in Las Lenas and after spending some quality ski time with my brother, it was time to return to the Patagonia region with only a week remaining during a month long ski adventure. Traveling from Las Lenas through the night to the Argentine resort town of San Martin de los Andes I was inspired again with a glimpse of the volcano from the bus. Arriving in San Martin, only two hours drive from the base of Lanin, the weather waiting game began.

Staying in the hostel Puma, it was not long before I found some like-minded individuals keen on an attempt of the volcano. Spending only a few rainy, windy days around the region we made the most of it seeking out hot springs, I was happy for the rest after the previous week spent in Lenas. Eventually we were presented with a small yet promising window in the weather. It would happen the day before I absolutely had to catch a bus back to Buenos Aires in order to catch a flight back to the states.

The true adventure began when I loaded up ‘radio flyer’, a small red Suzuki samurai, with Nick Frazee, an acquaintance from Las Lenas, and Drew Friedmann, telemark skier and proud car owner from Chicago. Cramming our gear and ourselfves into the rig we began driving toward the volcano. We didn’t make it very far before the sound of metal on metal and smell of burning brakes had us a bit worried. Turns out we had blown a wheel bearing on ‘radio flyer’. Two or Three hours of drinking mate with the mechanic, modifying bearing components and disconnecting the rear breaks, and we were on the road again.

Just another bump in the road

Arriving to the base of the volcano several hours later than we expected, the wind was ravaging the cone. Clouds tore past, it was apparent that any snow witch had fallen in the days’ prior would be lost to sublimation. Realizing we would not have enough daylight to reach the Refugio some 1100 meters above, we turned to plan B: Stay at the base and climb and ski the volcano in one day. Only problem, we were expecting to have the shelter of the Refugio, and left our tents and bivy sacs behind. The cold temps and high winds would make it almost unbearable to sleep out. Conversing with some locals, we were informed the Gendarmes (Argentina military) might allow us to camp in the stable behind their headquarters. As soon as the Jefe returned from border duty we were granted permission to make camp in the loft of the stable. After a light dinner consisting of Knorr soup, bread, salami, and a little cheese, we strolled over to the headquarters to have our water bottles filled in preparation for a huge day. When the Gendarme returned to the door with our H20 bottles he had only one question “quién es su guía?” (Who is your guide?) I quickly replied “YO!” he nodded, smiled and we were on our way back to the stable.

Radio Flyer parked by the stable

There are a few requirements to climb Lanin. For one, you are supposed to check in with the park ranger and prove you have all the proper equipment (proper clothing, sunglasses, sturdy boots, ice ax, crampons, VHF radio) from the sound of it, a guide also. Though we had rented all the gear to be legit (VHF radio, ice ax) there would be no one around to show it to. Apparently the park ranger was taking a few days off.

As darkness ebbed in over the peak, the winds subsided and the clouds dissipated. It was becoming apparent that we might get the weather window we had been looking for. With an alarm set for 4:45am, it wouldn’t be until 5:07am when I finally awoke. Rousting my two compadres, we indulged in a quick oat breakfast and began hiking in the calm, star lit darkness toward the towering giant a little after 6:00am. The Gendarme dog who had befriended us decided to tag along also. As we searched for the trail in the darkness, the dog would look back, eyes gleaming in light of our headlamps, as if to say “follow me.” ‘Perro’ as we called him, had a keen sense of where we were headed. Couldn’t help but wonder how many times this dog had been on the volcano? Without a doubt we had found our true ‘guia’. Reaching the edge of tree line as the stars gave way to the ever-changing hue of dawn, our route up the northeast ridge of Lanin would become more apparent. Working our way up the alluvial fan, the first violet rays reached the summit of Lanin. Ascending into the light it would only take about 4 hrs before we arrived at the Refugio.

By the dawns early light

Refugio

Skinning toward the orange space module meticulously placed half way up the ascent, we encountered three Italians who had weathered the winds in the Refugio. Curious how early we had started and what our plans were, the three began their ascent toward the summit. The hundreds of switchbacks we had bypassed on the skin up now had more meaning. Enjoying a snack and the incredible views from the Refugio, Nick and I took a breather while our friend Drew from Chicago worked his way up the snowfields. Fully outfitted in rental gear from San Martin, Drew was at a bit of a disadvantage. Barely leaving tracks in the firm snow as we advanced passed the Refugio, we used our best Spanish to convince ‘Perro’(the dog) to stay. Seemed a good idea, as the terrain above is noticeably steeper, and I had a feeling the dog might not agree with the descent I had in mind.

Dog Nap

One foot in front of another, it was not long before Nick and I passed up the Italians. Drew would embark on an adventure of his own, as we were moving at a far different pace. With every step the temperature rose, and snow conditions worsened. By the time we reached the gully that led to the summit, the wind strugy had taken over the snow pack and we were sweating bullets. Changing from skins to crampons, the higher we got, the larger the cauliflower like snow formations became. Cresting the summit ridge, a glance down revealed ant like figures descending back toward the Refugio. Nick and I would be the only two to summit on this day. Crunching our way through the icy, foot deep cauliflower, we reached the summit a little before 4pm. Making the entire approach from 1150 meters to 3776 meters (approx 8613 feet) in about 9.5 hrs. Soaking in the incredible vista, it was time to figure out how we were going to descend. Skiing down the approach would simply be horrendous. Besides, the east facing couloir descending 1000 plus meters into the ice field below had captured my attention since my first glance at the Volcano. Creeping toward the southeast edge, which appeared to drop of the face of the earth, I relied on a mental image of the summit to locate a small relief that led to the 50 plus degree east couloir.

It seemed Nick also had some reservations about this line, indeed it was steep, sustained and littered with crevasses near the bottom. At first glance the snow conditions appeared far better than anything we had seen yet. Tossing the first snowball down the fall line revealed a sense of excitement as it sank into the soft wind deposit. A few more snowballs confirmed my suspicion. It appeared good to go. Nick agreed to spot me as I crept over the edge relying on my self-arrest grip until my skis made purchase in the chalky snow. We agreed on some hand signals. Nick would decide whether or not he would drop in on his split-board after watching my descent. One chalky, steep, technical turn at a time I made my way toward the minefield of crevasses below. Glancing up from the bottom of the couloir, I could barley discern Nick’s open arms indicating he would follow. Silently murmuring “I hope you got it” I watched as Nick gracefully made his way to my location. These would be the first turns either of us would witness from one another, as we had never ridden together. Convening at the beginning of a long traverse through the ice field, the two of us admitted our lack of glacial experience and picked the best line we could. Our fear of these bottomless, hidden hazards was confirmed when Nick exposed a deep dark crack in the ice at the begining of our traverse back toward the safety of the approach route. Successfully completing the traverse, we made our way down some great corn snow back to the Refugio. Here, the Italians confirmed that our friend had retrieved the dog and would meet us at the bottom. We graciously accepted their offering of some “dirty water” (melted snow and tang), as our water bottles had long since been empty. Slightly recharged we continued down.

Nick on the ascent

Nick and Chason on the summit

Looking down the east couloir

Nick making it look easy

Veiw from below the couloir

Ice on Lanin

Nick traversing across the ice field

8000 feet later

Ideal corn snow conditions led us to the point where we had abandoned our shoes for hard shell boots. Drew and ‘Perro’ patiently awaited us there. Regressing through the volcanic debris back toward the Gendarmeria, we were consumed with a sense of satisfaction, dehydration, and hunger. A ‘parrilla libre’ (all you can eat grilled meat) was awaiting us back in San Martin.

Sitting in my assigned window seat on the bus the following day, I struggled against the desire to sleep and glanced out the window to get one more view of Lanin as the bus made its way across the huge expanses of Argentina. Consciousness gave way to dream state and in a seemingly absence of time, I was being served dinner, as the bus made its way through the night en route to Buenos Aires.

View of Volcan Lanin from the bus