Robert Krysak Artworks: 2018

Monday, December 24, 2018

Merry Christmas-Canadian Rockies

Wishing you and yours all the best this Holiday season.

Robert Krysak

Sunday, December 23, 2018

I am a Nomad-Christmas Canadian Rockies

I am a Nomad.

I mentioned this previously in my blog. One of the jobs I do, is I drive supplies to remote lodges for a heli-skiing company. The other day was an epic journey.

I awoke early in the morning and checked the local forecast. My hometown of Banff was in a clearing trend. I also checked the weather for Jasper, and my final destination, Valemount, B.C. Both were in a clearing and sunshine was the forecast. I also checked AMA Road Report. We had just had a large system travel thru the area, dumping 20-25 cms of new snow on the Icefields Parkway. Parks was closing the road at 10 am for avalanche control, with 2-3 hour delays. I decided I would take the Parkway. My other option was a 10 hour drive around (Usually the drive is 5 hours)

When I left the house, there were stars sparkling in the sky overhead. With the rising of the morning sun, the thick clouds around the peaks exploded into puff balls of pink, with splashes of blue sky. The team and I loaded the Sprinter truck with 3,000 lbs. of food and treats. A special load for the guests and staff who would be celebrating Christmas at one of the lodges. Interesting, as I did my final vehicle check and scanned the warehouse for any stray boxes, it began to snow. Hard.

Turning on to the Trans Canada highway heading West, I was greeted by wave after wave of flying snow, visibility down to 3 car lengths in front of me. The wipers on the Sprinter began to ice up, and my windshield became opaque. Having experienced this before in snowstorms, I had put a can of silicone spray in my emergency kit. I pulled over at the first opportunity. I pulled my toque over my ears, put my coat on, and jumped out into the maelstrom of angry wind and billions of confused snowflakes. I plucked ice off the wipers and sprayed them. Hopping back into the truck, I began driving down the snow-covered ribbon of asphalt. I could now see.

The storm lasted for around 20 minutes or so. As the sky brightened, I actually saw a patch of blue. My spirits rose, and I sang along to the music I was playing. Within 20 minutes, the sky cleared, and in front of me there was a spectacular display of cloud and light. It was as if the mountains were welcoming me ahead to a great journey. Passing Lake Louise, my spirits were bright as I turned up the Icefields Parkway. The sun was shining the snow glistening, and a cobalt blue sky outlining the towering peaks.

I need to turn around, but I can’t.

The snow is 14 inches deep (35 cms.) in the middle of the road and 20 inches deep (50cms) on the sides. There is one lane, and if there is an oncoming vehicle, you have to hug the side of the road, so you don’t collide. The challenge here, you also do not want to get sucked into the deep snow on the side and get stuck. There has not been a plow on ten road since the storm hit a day or so ago. For 28 kms., I crawl along at 20 kms an hour, slowing each time when there is an approaching vehicle. Finally, I find a wider part of the road where I try to turn around. The Sprinter is long, and it takes me 5 minutes, slowly going forward and back. Fortunately there was no traffic at this time. It takes me another 35 minutes to travel back to the Trans Canada highway. Near Lake Louise, I check the road report for the drive from Lake Louise to Revelstoke/Kamloops/Valemount. All looks good, and I turn West for the long drive.

The rest of the drive was long, but uneventful. When I turned North at Kamloops it was 5:15 pm and dark. 320 kms to go. My companion on my right was a full moon. The moon was so bright, at one point I turned off my headlights and drove by the light of the moon. Town after town passed by. Christmas lights were sparkling and made me smile as I basked in their glow.

I finally pulled into Valemount, my destination, at 9:45 pm.. 13 hours on the road and 871 kms. I was tired, but happy to step away from the wheel and walk on the earth. As I unloaded a few supplies into the heli-shack, the surrounding peaks were glowing bright. Across the field from me, one of our helicopters was stationary, ready for another day of taking skiers for their run of a lifetime.

I am a Nomad

Robert Krysak

Thursday, December 20, 2018

Winter Solstice-Canadian Rockies

It is very dark all around me. I am walking on a trail near my home, and the new fallen snow gives a muffled crunch under my Vibram soled boots.. The surrounding trees are cloaked in darkness, and seem wraithlike as they reach up into the snowy sky. The snow is falling lightly, and my headlamp pierces the darkness in different directions as my head bobs with my walk. I feel like I have a front row seat in Star Wars, sitting in the Millenium Falcon as it rockets thru space. (The snowflakes are captured in the light of my headlamp as I walk along)
It is 5:45 pm, December 20th, 2018.

Tomorrow is the Winter Solstice, and the shortest day of the year for daylight. Actually, there is 8 hours and 42 minutes less daylight than the Summer Solstice on June 21. Though it is very dark right now, we will now get 2.87 minutes more daylight each day!!!

You may not know this, but the Winter Solstice is linked to Stone Henge.

No one knows for sure why Stonehenge was built some 5,000 years ago. But one strong possibility is that it was used to mark solstices and equinoxes. That’s because the structure is directly aligned toward the sunset during the winter solstice. (The sun also rises directly over the Heel Stone during the summer solstice.)

Why was the winter solstice a big deal? Teresa Wilson of the American Astronomical Society explains: “While the summer solstice draws a larger crowd, the winter solstice may have been more important to the ancient builders. At this time, cattle were slaughtered so the animals did not need to be fed through the winter, and wine and beer made previously had finally fermented.”

Sounds like we are all having a barbecue in the next few days and enjoying some red wine.

Enjoy the journey. (And the daylight)

Robert Krysak

Monday, December 17, 2018

Avalanche Warning in the Backcountry-Canadian Rockies

There is an avalanche warning in the backcountry of Alberta and B.C. right now. I want to share this with all my friends who follow this blog and are backcountry skiers. Please be careful out there. As well, I have a story to share. First, info on the warning below:

The province has been hit by a number of severe snowstorms this week, creating unstable conditions in the backcountry. The new snow is not bonding with the old snow. Avalanche Canada has issued a Special Public Avalanche Warning for recreational backcountry users, effective immediately.

Please be extra safe out there.

For those that follow my blog, I have been spending more time with the pen and putting energy into being a wordsmith. A few years ago I was caught in an avalanche. After the event and spending time thinking about it, I decided to put my thoughts on paper. The result is the story, "The White Room" below.

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1:02 PM, April 1, 2011

The tumbling/cart wheeling has finally stopped; my body has come to rest. I cannot move one of my arms and the rest of my body is encased in some kind of trap. Snow is all around me, in my mouth, my nostrils, all around my goggles. There is a circle of light where I see the sky, a hole made by a last minute punch with my fist upward. I have been buried in an avalanche.

We left the lodge with the sun shining and blue sky. Everyone was excited about the powder skiing awaiting us in the alpine with up to 80 cms of new storm snow. I had been asked to change groups so some of the staff could join the Powder Masters group, and I was getting to know my new skiing friends. There were 3 Americans and the rest Austrians, and as the morning progressed the skiing got better and better.

In the early afternoon the helicopter dropped us off at the top of another run. In all directions was a sea of mountains, each one offering many more runs and turns for the group. As we were putting on our skis our Guide, said we were in the Azure/Rausch area on a run called Nice and Easy. I remember thinking with a name like that, this would be a nice enjoyable cruiser with lots of turns and great vistas. The Austrians were stopping occasionally to take video of each other skiing, and as I approached the group, they motioned for me to go ahead as they were going to do some filming.

I remember skiing past them, cranking some turns, enjoying the run, and then...........all of a sudden, I ski over a drop off of what seemed to be 3-4 feet. Almost falling over forward, I struggle to get myself upright, and in front of me in my field of vision from left to right is what looks like a wave churning and rolling. In seconds there is snow up to my neck and then I begin rolling, tumbling, for what I am told later was a distance of 80 meters. (1 1/3 length of an NHL hockey rink) I have no idea which way is up or down, but I am using my arms to swim/dig as hard as I can to try and free myself from the snow.

As things begin to slow down, I feel snow pushing at my face and head. I desperately sweep away at it to try and keep it away from my mouth and nose. I notice it is getting darker and darker, and I push harder at the snow. It feels like everything has stopped moving, there is no sound, and I push my fist as hard as I can to an area of light......I am able to see the sky. I cannot move, my body is twisted on its side with my legs being stretched/pushed to the max. I am breathing hard, but try to calm myself, hoping my group will find me.

Within a couple of minutes two of the Austrian skiers are below me, moving snow away from my face and using shovels to free me from the snow. They carefully dig around me, and eventually I feel the weight/pressure off my back/legs as I begin to move. The group and Guides help me up, and after a while I’m able to ski down to the pickup. We make one more run to lunch.

At the lunch spot, the Lead guide and Area Manager asks if I was in the White Room. I said I had been. Fortunately, for all the years of training given to me by Guides and from the quick response of our guests and Guides, it was just a visit.

Robert Krysak

Thursday, December 13, 2018

First Tracks-Canadian Rockies

The mountain wind is blowing, and snowflakes tickle my eyes and nose as I adjust my collar around my neck. I scan the landscape around me, a sea of clouds and snow with rocky peaks reaching up to the sky. As I bend down to tighten my ski boots and check my bindings, the muscles in my back and legs groan as they are forced to stretch. Hard to believe, in a few weeks I will be celebrating the 45th anniversary of my 20th birthday.

I tighten the buckles on my boots, check all my zippers are closed, pull my goggles and helmet closer to my head....and I push off. First ski turns of the season!

Skiing is like flying, You float across a white landscape, dancing thru pillows of snow. As the terrain undulates and reaches down to the valley floor, you follow its pattern and adjust your turns accordingly. I have been fortunate to have skied so long that skiing is like breathing. It is a natural practice for my body, one that brings a smile to my face and uplifts my soul.

I stop for a moment, and the only sound is my breathing, the wind in the trees, and the snowflakes colliding with my jacket.

Life in the mountains.

Robert Krysak