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Ready for Takeoff?
Required reading for any would-be heli-skier

By Susan Reifer

In April of last year, after three weeks of storms, the Chugach Mountains near Valdez, Alaska, were ù as the regulars put it ù stacked to the max, their spiky summits loaded with snow. Nearby motels were filled with skiers and snowboarders who’d thronged to the spring powder haven to experience helicopter skiing’s most
radical big-mountain descents. Everyone was twitch with desire, lusting for the rush of the super-steeps. but a thin layer of surface hoar, snow crystals that make slopes more likely to avalanche, had formed earlier in the month and now lay lurking under the new feet of white. On the day the weather finally cleared, only the heli-ski guides stood between the fired-up
masses and the still unstable snowpack.

“When you’ve had a big storm, everybody is champing at the bit,” says Doug Coombs, two-time winner of the World Extreme Skiing Championships and owner of Valdez Heli-Ski Guides. “But you have to start slow.” In fact, no one was

willing to stay off the slopes that day, which soon became known as Black Monday. Reports on what occurred vary, but it’s clear that all four Valdez operators ventured out and most triggered significant avalanches; luckily, no one was killed. An H₂O Heli ���ϳԹ���s Guide was buried but saved by a quick rescue. Teton Gravity Research filmmaker Steve
Jones, flying with Valdez Heli-Camps, was also buried and rescued. And one of Coombs’s clients was reportedly dragged by rampaging snow. Less fortunate were a pair of skiers who, two weeks earlier, walked out onto a cornice while their Alaska Backcountry ���ϳԹ���s guide ù a newcomer to the outfit who was working alone ù helped other clients. The cornice
broke and one skier died.

Of course, no backcountry guiding operation is immune to accidents. But what many consumers fail to realize is that in the United States, unlike Europe, no regulatory body oversees ski guiding. Which means that anyone, regardless of qualifications, can hang a shingle.

Nowhere is this fact more sobering than in Valdez, where heli-skiing’s rising popularity has far outpaced the supply of qualified, Chugach-experienced guides. As recently as 1995, you could simply buy a $35 ski-plane ride from the town’s sole operator and get dropped into the backcountry without a guide. (At most destination lodges in British Columbia, by contrast,
clients pay $4,000 for all-inclusive ski weeks and are always accompanied by at least one guide.) Today, six Valdez-area operators are jostling for dollars during the March-to-May season, with new guiding businesses spring up every year.

The Preflight Check

Before booking with any heli-ski outfit, advises Peter Lewis, executive director of the Colorado-based American Mountain Guides Association, “Do a lot of homework.” Start by calling the prospective operator and firing off questions. How long has it been in business? Has it had any accidents and, if so, under what circumstances? And, most important, what experience
and training is required of its guides? (It’s also not a bad idea to be put in touch with a previous client, assuming he’s not the owner’s best buddy.)

Next, ask about daily safety practices. How often do the guides dig snow pits to help them assess the stability of the snow? (Best answer: daily.) Do they keep detailed records of the season’s snow observations? (The should.) Do guides debrief each other regularly? (The best ones do it in the morning and again at night.) Do both guides and clients carry avalanche
beacons, probes, and shovels? Do guides familiarize clients with search-and-rescue basics? (On both counts, they must.)

Once you’ve signed up, arrived, and been assigned a guide, it’s a good idea to check into his or her background as well ù a simpler project north of the border, thanks to the Canadian Ski Guide Association. Founded by renowned B.C. operator Mike Wiegele, the CSGA is the only group to train folks specifically for heli- and Sno-Cat guiding; its rigorous
requirements include two years’ apprenticeship, advanced first aid, and coursework ranging from crevasse rescue to group management. Certainly many American guides are as qualified as their Canadian counterparts ù even now in Valdez, operators are establishing voluntary standards ù but the only way you’ll know about yours is to gently interrogate. And
remember, if an operator or guide is offended by your questions, or gives vague or blustery answers, take it as a red flag.

Finally, be sure you’ve been interviewed, too: Operators should ask about your backcountry experience, skiing or boarding level, and familiarity with search and rescue tools. If you haven’t been quizzed, that’s yet another sign that the outfit’s more interested in your credit limit than your safety.