The message on the door made their intentions quite clear.
an
227
THER THER TR
IT'S A GOOD
DAY TO NE
THER THER TR
didn't want to go," #11% tries to explain.
"Yeah, and this was the only other assignment left on our list, so
#11% here pulled a nosehair. If it was more than a quarter-inch long,
we'd do the Mt. Baker booby assignment. If less, we'd go to San Diego.
Well, the nosehair was a half-incher. So, here we are!" #43 says,
summing things up.
The manager, now as confused as a bull in a red gymnasium, hands
over the key to room #227. "All I can ask is that you keep the noise
down. I run a nice quiet place here."
Settling into their room, they turn the heater on, sit down, then notice.
that there is no T.V. #11% draws a skull with the words "It's a good
day to die," and stickers it on the outside of the door, setting the mood
for the weekend.
"Same thing happened last year," says Ripstop. "No TV"
"Yup," says #11%.
"What do we do now?" asks #43.
Mountain Mexican pulls out Pictionary, a board game where you
draw pictures and your partner guesses the word you're drawing.
Split into two teams, Mountain Mexican and #11% versus #43 and
Ripstop, they violate the chocolate energy box and duke out two games
'til 2:37 am. Mountain Mexican and #11% win both games. #43
proclaims that Ripstop is useless with a pencil and a blank pad of paper.
It snows during the night, lightly covering the landscape with cot-
ton white. It's 6:00 a.m. when Ripstop drives the van up to the Mt.
Baker Ski Area. Mountain Mexican searches the radio for music and
settles on a mediocre sounding soft-rock song. The station identifies
itself as a Christian rock station, serving the great Northwest, then
rolls into an editorial: "Yes, citizens, there is a threat to America that
can't be ignored. A much bigger problem than radical homosexual
militants. The real threat to the United States is Gary Hart. With his
well publicized...
Ripstop finds a parking space right in front of the day lodge. He
and Mountain Mexican go in to sign up for the banked slalom con-
test, leaving #43 and #11% in the van. #11% tells #43 to start the engine
and fire up the heater. The eliminations for the banked slalom don't
begin for another three hours, so they sleep in warmth 'til then.
The race course is at the Shuksan Arm area of the facility. To get
there from the base facility it is necessary to take two ski lifts, the
"Up and Up," (lift #3) and the "Shuksan Arm" (lift #5), through about
two miles of snow-covered, mountainous, Bigfoot country-a forty-
three-minute journey at least.
Contestants are furnished with lift tickets, so Ripstop and Mountain
Mexican have no problem boarding the lifts. Unfortunately, due to
last minute scheduling, # 43 and #11% have neglected to make ap-
propriate arrangements for mountain transportation and are on foot,
lugging multi-million-dollar camera equipment. Although they must
think fast, they take their time at it.
"How much is a lift ticket?" #43 asks #11%.
"Almost twenty bucks."
"Do you know how much beer you can buy with that kind of money?
We're not gonna pay to get across this mountain, are we?"
"No."
"How are we gonna get there?"
"We are going to lie like dogs and make everyone we come in con-
tact with think they're misinformed. Follow me," #11% says. They walk
into the blustery snowfall, down a long slope on the fog shrouded
mountain top to lift number three. #11% does some lying to the lift
operator and uses some excellent hand gestures to make the lies stick.
#43 and #11% manage to cut the line, thirty-two people deep and
ascend into the clouds.
It's 1:33 p.m. The van sits, engine running, heater blowing. Ripstop,
Mountain Mexican and a guy named Bob Klein bang on the sliding
side door. ►
At snowboard competitions, Bob Killine is often
grossly misunderstood, largely because he's not
afraid to say what's on his mind or gal-bullshit
in a bullshit situation. From time to time Bob's
mouth does get hips into some unfortunate
situations. For example, loss than a hour atter
this photograph of him was taken his lift ticket
was yanked and he was kicked off the mountain.
Photo by Bryce Kanights