Ted Ligety doesn’t think so. The three-time World Cup giant-slalom champ and Olympic gold medalist sounded off in mid-August after trying the longer, straighter skis mandated by the International Ski Federation (FIS). “I finally had the chance to try a prototype of the 40m GS skis,” Ligety wrote on his blog while in New Zealand. “And quite frankly, they suck.”

Steven Nyman

Steven Nyman, Audi Birds of Prey in Beaver Creek

The clamor started on July 18 when the FIS announced new alpine equipment rules. Beginning with the 2012–13 season, skiers in downhill, super-G, and giant-slalom events will be required to use longer skis with a longer turning radius. Generally speaking, the smaller a ski’s radius, the easier and tighter it will turn without losing speed due to skidding. As a result, over the years courses have been configured that allow skiers to cut clean, beautiful turns without sacrificing speed. Of the three disciplines, giant slalom skis like those Ligety uses got the greatest overhaul: a jump from the current 27-meter minimum radius to a whopping 40.

“It would be like going from a sports car to driving a semi truck,” Ligety told şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř. “It’s just such a huge difference.”

The last time ski manufacturers made skis with a 40-meter radius en masse was the 1980s. So why is the FIS making this change now? After launching an Injury Surveillance System in 2006 officials became concerned with injury rates. From 2006 through 2010, FIS found that each season nearly a third of World Cup racers suffered an injury, and close to 20 percent missed more than four weeks of competition as a result, with knee injuries being the most prevalent. They said consistent detailed statistics on the causes of skier injuries prior to that were limited and poorly documented.

Skiers themselves point to lower injury rates and say the equipment is not to blame. Ligety claims that in the past two years there have been only three injuries among the top 30 World Cup GS skiers—two knee injuries and one ankle, caused by a hooked gate, and poor course conditions, respectively.

Yet for all the talk of injury rates and statistics, the decision to update the regulations wasn’t based on hard numbers. It was based on interviews. In 2010, FIS collaborated with the University of Salzburg, which in turn interviewed 63 World Cup experts, such as coaches, athletes, officials, and organizers. Together they decided that equipment changes were the best way to minimize risk. FIS, the university, and several ski manufacturers, such as Fischer, Rossignol, and Marker Voelkl, further used the qualitative information from those interviews to define radius and length specifications for a quiver of prototype skis. Active and former World Cup racers like Peter Struger and Marco Büchel tested those prototypes, and the university measured the skis’ slip percentage, aggressiveness, and turn force. Of the three GS prototype skis tested, the FIS selected the one with the safest measurements: more slip, less aggressive, less turn force.

By this summer, the FIS had gathered enough information to make a change. The reaction was not exactly what they expected.

“FIS rumbles about trying to capture a bigger audience,” U.S. Ski Team member Steven Nyman wrote . “This move clearly won’t attract more people to the sport. The difference in power, athleticism, speed is drastic.”

Ski manufacturers also decried the change. In July, the Ski Racing Supplier Association wrote a three-page letter to FIS saying that while a larger radius was OK, the change to a 40-meter GS ski would set the sport back 20 years and kill the appeal to youth—no more dreaming about carving tight, beautiful turns.

The backlash was strong enough for the FIS to concede—a bit. On August 24, it amended the men's minimum GS ski radius from 40 meters to 35.

Some argue that the concession isn’t enough. Skiing is still going to have to adapt immediately to a 20-year change in technique and equipment. Longer, straighter skis favor bigger, stronger skiers who can muscle through turns rather than finesse a well-carved arc. Ligety says smaller skiers like Marcel Hirsher will be squeezed out by larger men like Aksel Lund Svindal. There’s also the financial burden for younger skiers on club and development teams, which will need to buy a new quiver of skis because the practice of hand-me-downs will be obsolete.

FIS has acknowledged these concerns but continues to make safety the priority. FIS Chief Race Director Atle Skaardal said ski manufacturers and skiers were “more concerned about attractiveness, how the feeling is to ski on it, the fun factor—however you like to call it. They were asking to focus a little bit less on only safety.”

Whether these changes will reduce injuries remains to be seen, but Ligety has his doubts.

He thinks coaches will be inclined to compensate for the new skis' inability to turn quickly by setting straighter courses. Skiers will take straighter lines toward the gates and further increase their speed—instead of arcing a path to loop around them—and then step and slide at the turns. Combine that movement in the turns with the increased ski length and, Ligety believes, hooking tips on gates and crashing remains just as risky. “It doesn’t resolve the problem where most knee injuries are occurring,” Ligety said. “An injury happens once you fall, and a ski is a lever attached to your foot.”

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Blake Davis fly-fishes the world; Ernest Shackleton’s whisky of choice resurfaces; the annual circus in the Himalayas.

Higher Education

A year-long fly-fishing world tour

Hillbilly Handfishin'

Hillbilly Handfishin’

This summer, College of the Atlantic grad Blake Davis, 22, sets off for a year-long fly-fishing world tour courtesy of a $25,000 Thomas J. Watson Foundation Fellowship. The only requirements of the 60 coveted annual grants for ­independent study are that you leave the U.S., travel solo, and drop a progress report in the mail at least four times a year to prove that you’re alive and on topic. We asked correspondent Christian DeBenedetti, who received his own Watson Fellowship in 1996 to study the beers and brewing techniques of the world, to catch up with Davis and find out who indeed had scored the better project.

OUTSIDE: Congratulations. I was pretty sure nothing could beat a year-long beer-drinking research tour, but communing with the trout of the world might take it.
Davis: I grew up in western Massachusetts, where people fish for trout, but I was after “trash” species because they were more abundant. The experience of fishing is more than catching fish. I think the reason a lot of people pick it up is to feel connected to the wilderness, to have something reflective, meditative.

OK, but not in the Ganges. That would be gnarly.
I’m actually going to be up in the mountainous north of India, looking for a fish called mahseer, because it’s similar to carp. That will be the most rural experience.

Do you have to live off these fish you will theoretically catch?
No, but I will be learning a lot. Fly-fishermen are monitors of the environment—what’s going on with the rivers. We’re talking about global climate change. Fly-fishing itself can be an indicator of health in our waterways.

Ah, that’s noble. Did I tell you I tried 400 beers during my year?
It’s surreal: I just cashed the biggest check of my life. Pretty good for a person who usually has a three-digit bank account. I would love to catch a tarpon. I’ve made thousands of tarpon flies, but I’ve never even seen one. I’m going to go for it in Costa Rica.

And supposing you don’t land one?
I think I’ll know when it’s time to move on. Come to think of it, I might head to Argentina. There’s some world-class trout down there.

In the Spirit of It

Shackleton’s long-lost whisky

This summer, nearly two years after two crates of Scotch whisky left on Ross ­Island by Ernest Shackleton during his 1907 Nimrod expedition were recovered, Glasgow distillery Whyte and Mackay releases its much-anticipated Mackinlay’s Rare Old Highland Malt Whisky, based on that 100-year-old blend. To re-create it, Whyte and Mackay’s master blender, Richard Paterson, analyzed the recovered stock over eight laborious weeks, then mixed together 25 eight- to thirty-year-old malts to clone the singular taste of the Mackinlay’s original. As for Shackleton’s supply, it’s back on ice beneath the floorboards of the hut where it was discovered—a perpetual toast to the famously profligate explorer. $228;

This Season on Everest

The annual circus in the Himalayas

The post News from the Field: August 2011 appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

Last year, Kyle Dempster and Bruce Normand earned their second Piolet d’Or nomination, a French award that recognizes excellence in alpinism, after they made the first ascent of the east face of China’s Mt. Edgar. The climbing highs have piled up for Dempster in the last several years, but what’s more impressive is his ability to deal with the lows life has thrown at him. We caught up with him before he departed in late June on a solo seven-week climbing and cycling trip through Kyrgyzstan.

Kyle Dempster

Kyle Dempster

Kyle Dempster, Siguiang Shan Mountains

Kyle Dempster, Siguiang Shan Mountains, China

Kyle Dempster ice climbing

Kyle Dempster ice climbing in Sichuan, China

Kyle Dempster ice climbing

Kyle Dempster ice climbing in Sichuan, China

Kyle Dempster Sichuan, China

Kyle Dempster in Sichuan, China

How did you first get into climbing?
My cousin Drew learned how to climb at a summer camp for kids out in Colorado, and his family would come out here to Utah every Christmas. So he said, “I need a belay. Let’s go climbing.” Being the younger kid—I was 12; he must have been 14 or 15 at the time—I followed him. We went to REI to go buy some stuff and went to this place called Pete’s Rock that overlooks the whole Salt Lake valley. We were using a seatbelt out of a Jeep Cherokee for a top rope anchor.

How close are you to the rest of your family?
I’m extremely close with all my family. My sister, Molly, and I both still live with our parents here in Salt Lake where we grew up. A couple years ago she and I climbed the west buttress of Denali together, and it was only her second time wearing crampons. She since then has pursued a lot of wilderness medicine classes and she guides part time for Utah Mountain şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍřs, which is formerly Exum here in Salt Lake. My dad’s unique in that he has never owned a car in his life and spends his whole life on a bicycle and commutes everyday—sun, wind, rain, or snow—14 miles each way to work here in Salt Lake. On the weekends he’ll take off for these mega-marathon bike loops. And then my mom is the same: loves nature, loves hiking, loves being outside.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve climbed?
A photographer friend of mine and myself were in Chengdu, Sichuan, in China. We were riding bikes around our first day. We pulled up to this brick retaining wall that was maybe a kilometer long and 60-feet high. Every 100 feet or so there was this splitter hand crack. Both of us were like, “Oh my God, we got to come back at night and climb this thing.” I got maybe to two-thirds height and I heard some yelling. I looked down below and there were five Chinese police officers yelling at me. So I down climbed. And the next five or six hours we spent in Chinese custody while they tried to find a translator to ask us what we were doing. The translation for “fun” wasn’t really there.

What have you been up to recently?
I climbed another route on my third trip to China last October and November. We climbed a mountain called Mt. Edgar, which has an interesting history to it. It’s the peak that Johnny Copp and Micah Dash and Wade Johnson died on in 2009. My friend Bruce Normand and myself climbed the east face, the same face that killed them. It was a pretty scary experience—pretty educational. All of the upper 6,000 feet to access the east face is a heavily seraced, cornice-laden area that all funnels down into this thousand-meter-long gulley. The gulley is the main danger. That’s where Johnny and Micah died. I guess the biggest thing I walked away from that time with was I don’t want to climb a mountain with that much objective hazard and danger anytime in the future.

Now I’m here for a little bit and then I’m leaving at the end of June for Asia. I’m flying to Kyrgyzstan with a bicycle and climbing gear and I’m going to spend like seven weeks just riding around Kyrgyzstan and climbing whatever looks cool. In that seven weeks also I’ll need to make my way through Western China and then cross the border into Pakistan and meet up with two friends, Kelly Cordes and Hayden Kennedy. Then we’re going to go up to the Charakusa glacier and try and make some first ascents on some unclimbed peaks.

How long did it take plan the biking and climbing trip?
It’s been formulating for a while, but we’ve had some bumps in the road. It’s been a rough personal time. I had one friend commit suicide and another friend die in an avalanche, both here in Salt Lake City. I had a car run into the coffee shop, so I’ve been fighting insurance companies. And then in May my girlfriend was doing a bit of extreme skiing in the Wasatch and took a 1,000-foot fall down the north face of a mountain. She’s alive, thank God, but she’s slowly recovering and has some injuries. She was actually going to be my partner for the Kyrgyzstan bike trip. Still could be, but she’s got some injuries to contend with.

What’s been your most fulfilling achievement?
The ability to find the continuation in climbing after my cousin Drew, who brought rock climbing into my life, died on our very first climbing expedition together to Baffin Island in the Canadian Arctic. We did a first ascent on a big wall up there, and after two and half weeks of living on portaledges on this wall, Drew made a mistake and rappelled off the end of the rope. He fell about 900 feet and passed away. I was 22 and he was 24. It put me in a pretty dark place for about a year. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. He had provided so much direction to me in life. I sort of vowed on the airplane home that I would return, and that entire year I worked towards returning to the Arctic. I went out there again in 2006 by myself and just spent a couple months skiing around the frozen fjords with a kite. I did a little bit of bouldering and hanging out, and a lot of reading and writing and reflecting. Being out there by myself in this sacred place that took my cousin’s life—it really allowed me to find the continuation to be like, “Yes, this what I want to do.”

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Tainted Love

Lance is gone, the current champ is embroiled in scandal, and many of the riders lining up on July 2 for this year’s Tour de France will be cheating. So what? It’s still the most exciting three-week event in sports. Six reasons even non-believers should keep watching.

1. It’s Still Better Than Baseball

IF LIFE’S PLEASURES form the bedrock of happiness, my guiltiest one goes like this: Every July, I call up my local cable provider to request a 30-day upgrade, paying a mere $5 for the soothing companionship of Paul Sherwen, Phil Liggett, and the rest of the Tour de France coverage team at the Versus network. We’ll spend 23 blissful days together. Each morning I’ll wake to the sound of Liggett’s breathless accounts of meaningless sprint finishes (“He nips him at the line, but only just!”), key mountaintop battles (“He’s got the bit between the teeth!”), and stunning helicopter shots of the French terrain (“Just look at that buttress!”).

Each night I’ll settle in for the bonus coverage, watching it all over again in slow motion, tolerating Bob Roll’s spastic analysis of remaining contenders like Andy Schleck and Denis Menchov. During these brief studio segments, the hosts will wring their hands and discuss the latest doping controversy, but it’s always mercifully short. You’re in a safe place at Versus; they’ll never pierce your dreamy bubble of denial. When the champion is finally crowned, I’ll pour my own glass of champagne, savoring a victory that will inevitably be revoked due to scandal in the coming weeks. But no worries—I’ve been here before. I’ll just memorize the name of the second-place finisher. Was it Óscar Pereiro or Óscar Freire?

This year, as with the past few, there are people who will want to take this right away from me. They’ll say the whole event is a sham, that cycling is beyond ­salvation. They’ll point out the string of recent champions who have been embroiled in doping controversy. They’ll say they’re tired of me ignoring the kids and mono­polizing our one television. And for a ­moment, I’ll think they’re right and begin my annual sulk. But then I’ll remember: drugs don’t kill cycling; cyclists kill cycling. And I’ll raise my right hand high in the air, clutching my remote. From my cold dead hands, I’ll say.

2. Podium Girl Laura Shelton ­Antoine Knows As Much As Phil Liggett

ON DOPING
You have to put it in perspective. There’s doping in every sport, and cycling is one of the hardest sports in the world. American football? Come on. It’s the nature of the beast of professional sports. If someone wants to not watch the Tour because of the doping scandals, that’s their prerogative, but you can’t go watch ­another sport. They all have their scandals.
ON THE GREEN SPRINTER’S JERSY
Mark Cavendish has ruled the sprints, and I expect him to win again on the Champs-Élysées. He really saves up to win that stage. When he’s on, no one can beat him.
ON THE YELLOW JERSEY
Andy Schleck is going to pull through. I know how bad he wants it. After losing it to Contador last year, he will not give it up again this year. He’s a nice guy, but you can see how much he wants to win.

3. Records* Could Be Broken

*medical records

4. The Pros Have Great Training Tips

As many bike racers will tell you (off the record, at night, under a bridge), blood doping—using transfusions to boost one’s percentage of oxygen-carrying red blood cells—is still the most effective way to gain an edge. Floyd Landis has claimed that he, Lance Armstrong, and other members of U.S. Postal used transfusions during Lance’s string of Tour victories, in part because they’re impossible to detect. (Or were. The World Anti-Doping Agency now has a test that will turn up trace amounts of blood-bag plastic in the body.) We consulted several doctors to show you how it’s done, but we do not suggest you try this at home.

1. Tap a vein.
During the off-season, draw a pint—or several dozen—of your own blood. (Never use a friend’s, which could kill you or raise red flags during a drug test.) Next, add an anticoagulant, such as citrate. Blood bags manufactured by Pall ($15; pall.com) come equipped with 16-gauge needles and are preloaded with anticoagulant.

2. Save it for later.
Freeze your blood to store it.
Put the bags on a Burrell Model AA wrist-action shaker ($1,850; burrellsci.com), then add intravenous-grade glycerol to keep those endurance-boosting red cells from bursting when they freeze.
Store the blood in a liquid-nitrogen freezer ($3,756; bsilab.com) at minus 112 degrees Fahrenheit.

3. Thaw and reinject.
Grab a cold bag and dunk it in a 98.6-degree water bath.
Wash out the glycerol, another potentially lethal and detectable foreign substance, by spinning it off in a Unico large-capacity variable-speed centrifuge ($1,695; medicus-health.com). Reinject your blood over a two-hour period using a gravity drop. Massages and bus breakdowns offer good cover. Side effects include stroke, staph infections, and feigned indignity.

ACCESSORIES
come in a variety of colors. $16 per roll
A can help locate hard-to-find blood vessels. $219
conveniently organize your blood-doping supplies. $199

5. You Can Make It Interesting

The odds on the Tour’s top contenders as of May

6. The Stories They Tell

Cycling history’s most inventive alibis for drug scandals

After testing positive for the veterinary steroid clenbuterol in 2010, Alberto Contador offered a bad-meat defense and then lashed out. “I believed in the anti-doping system,” he said. “I no longer believe.” The controversy won’t prevent him from racing in this year’s Tour, but it did earn him a spot on our list.

1. 1983
Adri van der Poel
Dutch Tour de France Rider
SUBSTANCE: Strychnine
EXCUSE: His father fed him pie made from euthanized pigeons.

2. 1992
Alexi Grewal
1984 U.S. Olympic road-race gold medalist
SUBSTANCE: Opiates
EXCUSE: He’d gorged himself on poppyseed muffins.

3. 2002
Frank Vandenbroucke
Belgian wunderkind
SUBSTANCE: Possession of EPO, morphine, and clenbu­terol
EXCUSE: They were medicines for his anemic dog.

4. 2002
Edita Rumsas
wife of Lithuanian Raimondas Rumsas, who finished third at that year’s Tour
SUBSTANCE: HGH, EPO, and a dozen other banned materials found in her car by French customs agents as she was leaving the countryĚý
EXCUSE: They were for her mother.

5. 2004
Tyler Hamilton
2004 Olympic gold medalist
SUBSTANCE: Caught with somebody else’s DNA in his blood
EXCUSE: The DNA came from his chimeric twin, which had died in utero and been absorbed by Hamilton.

6. 2006
Floyd Landis
dethroned Tour champion
DRUG: Testosterone
EXCUSE: General manliness and whiskey were to blame for above-normal T levels.

7. 2007
Björn Leukemans
Belgian journeyman
DRUG: Testosterone
EXCUSE: Hey, he was having sex when the drug testers showed up unannounced to take his urine sample.

8. 2010
Alberto Contador
DRUG: Clenbuterol
EXCUSE: His steak was contaminated.

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