Behind the Stories
Winter Grit
By Sauni SymondsFebruary 8, 2012
All of the stories in this show have two things in common: adventure and grit. I came up with the name for the show after shooting a Skijoring competition in the Wood River Valley, where teams made up of a horse, a rider, and a skier race down a snow packed track over jumps and around gates, sometimes reaching speeds up to 40 miles an hour. It takes grit to do that. When I first started planning the program, I knew that I wanted to find winter activities that not only involved adventure, but daring and determination by the people who undertake them. Skijoring, heli-skiing, back country skiing, and ice climbing all fit the bill.
The first story we shot was heli-skiing. Outdoor Idaho did a piece on heli-skiing about 20 years ago, so I figured it was time to update it. With a blessing from Bruce Reichert, Outdoor Idaho Executive Producer, I set about to find a heli-skiing operation that would play with us. By play with us, I mean a company that would let us ride along on one of their outfitted trips for next to nothing, or at least give us a deep discount. We're not Warren Miller Productions here at IdahoPTV, so we look to the kindness of strangers to tell many of Idaho's stories.
Currently, there are only a few heli-skiing operations in Idaho, so the choices were limited. Since the story 20 years ago was done out of the Sun Valley area, I chose to go with an operation out of the Teton Valley on the Idaho side of the Tetons. High Mountain Heli-Ski partners with Teton Valley Lodge and Spa in Victor Idaho, which is a pretty upscale year-around resort. I couldn't get through to the Heli-ski company at first, so I gave the Lodge a call. They were very excited to help us out, and even offered complementary rooms for the crew. It would be good promotion for them, after all. The Lodge was a little more swank than Outdoor Idaho crews are used to, so we wiped off our boots and accepted the offer graciously.
Luckily, High Mountain Heli-Ski was willing to play with us. What we wanted to capture was the excitement of a skier and/or snowboarder being dropped on a remote mountain top for the first time. Jon Shick, the owner decided he could fit two photographers into the helicopter with two guests and a guide. The Lodge found the guests; now I had to find two photographers. They would have to be good powder skiers and be able to handle the shooting conditions on the mountain. It wasn't hard to convince Jay Krajic and Jeff Tucker, who also poses as our production manager, to get on board. A free heli-ski trip! You bet. Little did they know the challenges that awaited them. I was a little disappointed there wasn't enough room in the chopper for me. Oh well.
The winter of 2010-2011 was one for the records. Massive amounts of snow were dumping all over the country, and Idaho was no exception. Trying to find a clear weather window for flying proved tricky. The shoot was postponed twice, and then finally a small window opened. Keep in mind that we don't all just sit around and wait to jump in the car and go. Every postponement meant rearranging everyone's schedules, again. Our crew needed to drive from Boise to Victor, about 6 hours, so our plan was to arrive the day before the shoot so we would have time to meet all the players and plot out the next day. When we finally arrived late afternoon it looked like a new front might be moving in. (Expletive, expletive) Winter shoots can be especially difficult because of weather.
We all gathered early the next morning to assess the weather. Our trip was one of several scheduled that day, so about twenty guests had also crowded into the waiting lounge. Lots of logistics going on with paying customers, and a camera shoot to-boot. A weather postponement would make a lot of people unhappy. When I watched the sun creep over the ridge, I breathed a sigh of relief, but I soon found out that the weather gods were going to mess with us all day. All I could keep thinking about was how I could make a story out of this if nobody could ski. We couldn't camp out here for days waiting for the weather to clear.
As the guides closely tracked the weather on their computers, for what seemed like an eternity, the clouds magically parted. Here we go!
The Not-so-easy Life of an Outdoor Idaho Videographer
By Aaron KunzJanuary 30, 2012
Winter is finally here. In fact, there's five feet of snow in the central Idaho mountains, as I prepare to pack in food, clothing and sleeping bags up a steep hill. Oh, and also a hundred pounds of television equipment.
Idaho Parks and Recreation has several backcountry yurts outside Idaho City. Banner Ridge is located more than 750 vertical feet from the parking lot off highway 21. The original plan was to hitch a ride at the bottom on a powerful snow cat used to groom the miles of Nordic ski and snowshoe trails. It would allow us to get to the top of the hill quickly and prevent us from having to pack gear through untracked snow.
But, when we arrived at the parking lot for Banner Ridge, about twenty miles north of Idaho City, the parking lot has virtually disappeared, buried under five feet of snow. At the same time, I was also informed that the snow cat that was supposed to give me a ride to the top of the ridge was out of commission.
Leo Hennessy, the experienced non-motorized trails coordinator at Idaho Parks and Recreation, apologized for the inconvenience. But he expressed confidence that with some pull sleds, we could haul the large camera, batteries, and tripod to the top in just a few hours. And he volunteered to travel ahead and break trail for us.
After using shovels to dig out a place to park our vehicle, we began what turned into a four hour journey, up a hill carrying our backpacks and camera equipment. I'm here to tell you that snowshoes are both a blessing and a curse. They allowed us to walk on snow. But they also made for an awkward climb. Every muscle in my body was exhausted by the time we reached the yurt. Luckily, we got there just ahead of a big storm. Of course, it snowed all night long while we slept in the warm interior of the yurt.
The next day, I woke up early so I could start shooting some exterior shots before we had to catch the snow-cat back to our cars. My first hour was spent shoveling my way out of the yurt. We estimated about one and a half feet of snow fell overnight, making it hard to even open the door of the wood framed, circular yurt.
But what a beautiful morning! An occasional rush of wind through the trees sounded like a snow machine. When the wind stopped blowing, it was absolutely quiet. The only sound was an occasional plopping sound as snow fell from the heavy tree branches.
We had hoped to catch the snow-cat around 11 a.m. at the trailhead. But when we got there, there was no sign of a snow cat. And our tracks to guide us back to the car were gone. It quickly dawned on us that we would have to hike back on our own, again through a new foot and a half of fresh snow. The only path was a line of posts to guide us back to the parking lot.
Again, we had to break our own trail. But we felt pretty good on the descent, considering our climb the day before. We managed to hit the road in just over three hours, exhausted, but happy to know we were close to a warm meal in Idaho City.
But dinner would have to wait. Our green Chevy Tahoe was totally buried in snow. We assumed that the snow plows also added to the pile of snow that completely covered the SUV. Sadly, it took us more than an hour to shovel our truck out of the snow, a reminder that anyone caught in Idaho's back-country will be subject to some rugged conditions. When the Idaho Parks and Recreation website says pack a snow shovel, make sure you pack a snow shovel!
Fortunately, we returned in good spirits and in good condition. Some of our video footage will be included in an OUTDOOR IDAHO show February 16th, appropriately entitled "Winter Grit."