Brian Parker and Kelly Cordes skirt avalanche debris below Bonney Pass.
The goal of it all: smiles and coming home. Billy Haas reflects on avalanche involvements and the need to focus on terrain selection and terrain use.
Many avalanche courses taught in this country begin with a breakdown of the concept known as the avalanche triangle. This triangle represents the three components that contribute to avalanche hazard (snowpack, terrain, and weather) and the human factor falls in the middle of this triangle. Avalanche instructors break down these four factors into lessons so that students can develop a method for making safe decisions in the backcountry. All of these lessons are important, but not all are equal.
For me, the single most prevalent factor I noticed this season—and in recent seasons—is not the human factor or a poor assessment of snow stability and weather conditions, but rather poor terrain selection and terrain use. It can be said that this is an obvious mistake in any avalanche accident. Still, I am finding that as a community, our ability to select appropriate terrain and/or to move through terrain appropriately is deteriorating rapidly. I believe that causation for this involves, but is not limited to, a few things: a rapidly expanding user group, a lack of true mentorship, an overreliance on digital mapping, and a changing social landscape. I will hopefully expand on this in a different article soon, but for now I will be brief.
Throughout the U.S. and our various regional backcountry communities, we need to examine how we operate throughout the winter and what improvements we want to make next year. I see a lot of reflection in avalanche accident reports on a variety of things that went well or what went wrong in various accidents, and I can’t always help but think to myself “You’re missing the point!” People praise the helpfulness of radios, contemplate whether or not they should have locked out toe pieces, or lament group dynamics and familiarity with terrain, social media’s role in all of this, and how they missed the obvious red flags in the snowpack. I could go on and on here, but I am not stating that these are not factors in the mountains and accidents. However, at the end of the day, if you or your partners are sliding downhill in a torrent of snow, the underlying critical mistake is most likely that you chose the wrong terrain to be on that day, and/or you were using the terrain poorly. Does every accident involve a bad tour plan or a poorly placed skin track? Not necessarily, but I am seeing a trend the past few seasons where more and more accidents involve poor terrain selection and use, and there does not seem much reflection on this matter.
In every range I’ve traveled over the past few years, the amount of poorly placed skin tracks or dangerous uphill routes that unnecessarily expose people is becoming concerning, and it’s an increasing theme in avalanche accidents. It’s as if we don’t care how we get places anymore as long as we get there. Terrain use choices that would have been unthinkable in the past are now becoming common, and we are starting to see more and more group-on-group accidents.
Backcountry skiing isn’t a new sport. People were doing it very safely before beacons, avalanche airbags, and digital mapping apps, let alone modern avalanche forecasting. They were doing it with appropriate terrain selection and quality route finding. From my point of view, overly aggressive terrain selection is now mainstream as our communal mindset has drifted further right (on the avalanche scale that is) as to what is acceptable to ski or ride. There’s obviously a lot driving this change in the backcountry community—but the one thing that is not changing is the danger of being caught in an avalanche.
There’s been a softening trend in the ignominy of being caught in an avalanche, but we still need to be critical with our local communities, backcountry partners, and ourselves. My purpose for writing this comes from a deep passion for this sport and my belief that a reasonable risk-reward equation is obtainable for many people. I enjoy pushing myself hard in the mountains, dislike bailing, and am of the mindset of deeper, bigger, steeper. I believe every patch of snow should get skied, and I want this sport to be accessible to everyone who wants it and at whatever level they want to engage with it. As a community, I hope for a more critical assessment of what is actually contributing to these accidents and how to correct them. The thing we need to focus on most is terrain selection and terrain use.
I want to reiterate, I do think there are other factors involved in avalanche accidents. Statistically there is commonly more than one. However, in my line of work we find the biggest deficiency relating to the accident in question, and focus on that first. I also want to reiterate that I am not even close to the first person to preach this. From LaChapelle to Tremper, two notable avalanche professionals, terrain has always been king.
A skin track transition amidst big terrain. Photo: Alex Lee
Next season, I challenge us all to spend more time analyzing our terrain and tour plans before entering the mountains, and not just choose locations because you are familiar with them or have a desire to be there. Does your tour plan “actually” match the current conditions and avalanche hazard? Avalanche forecasting has gotten pretty good, why as a community are we so quick to disregard it? Be hyper-critical of where you choose to put yourself in the mountains, and pride yourself on moving through the mountains efficiently and safely. If skin track setting is an art, let’s try to be less Jackson Pollock and more Monet. No matter the day, we should be constantly asking, is this skin track truly the best way to move through this terrain, or is there a better way? Should I take the shortcut booter up that commonly skied couloir, or should I take the slightly longer skin track around the side? Is there a way I can ski this run top down with minimal uphill exposure, instead of just going right up it because that’s what I saw on Stava? Should we really be skiing this big complex run forecasted for Considerable Hazard, or should we choose smaller, more simple terrain? These are the questions we must ask every day we ski or ride in avalanche terrain. And remember, second only to setting a bad skin track is following a bad skin track.
Assessing and understanding snow and avalanche conditions may seem daunting, but with modern avalanche education and avalanche forecasting, it is a reasonable task for anyone to perform. The human element is complex—a constant wildcard that I am still trying to learn more about, and always needs to be factored into every backcountry decision making process. But these are not the main factors contributing to avalanche involvements recently. We seem to be losing our ability to choose appropriate terrain, and to move through avalanche terrain correctly.
Hopefully, we can begin to look at the terrain factor more critically again, and consider changes we all can make to improve ourselves and our backcountry community. That may mean a better skin track on the ascent, or a more appropriate objective for a given set of conditions. Let’s start talking about this more, and focus on this next season. My final plug for this is this: I truly believe dedicating more time to being critical of terrain and how to move through it will allow more people to accomplish their goals more consistently, move more efficiently, and stay safer in the mountains.
Thank you for this. I know I’ve let my guard down, too often choosing lines, terrain and setting up-tracks based on priorities that shouldn’t be the first priority. I can’t say for sure what the factors are, but I’m guessing it is slowly learning the wrong lessons by getting away with poor choices without consequence – just sort of slowly sliding toward worse choices over time. This stern reminder was needed and welcome. Thanks!
fantastic essay, thank you