Landen Parker (left) and old salt Brian Parker (right). This was Landen’s first time applying skins, and working on transitions. He nailed it.
What exactly is good etiquette when it comes to transition times? Is two minutes a golden rule we should aspire to? Asking for a newish ski tourist.
Transition time, let’s get into it. On any given run, generally, you transition twice. At the bottom, apply skins, maybe peel a layer, and munch on a snack. And atop the line, you de-skin, add a layer and rehydrate. I think we all can agree that transition times vary.
Over the summer, I began a dialogue with a newish backcountry skier. After our chat, he sent along several questions worth considering. One question, as you may have guessed, was about transitions. Here’s what he asked:
“How important are transition times? I was told by one of my AIARE instructors that a two-minute transition time was something I should be working towards to be considered a partner with good etiquette. After a season of touring, I’m… nowhere close. How worried should I be about this? I’m not exactly that interested in being much of a speed demon, so I don’t feel a ton of urgency, but at the same time, I do want to prioritize being what most folks would consider a good partner?“
Here’s a disclaimer, and I may be speaking out of turn, I could ask, but I’m guessing AIARE does not have a curriculum dictating transition times and their relationship to etiquette. This comment from the avalanche educator was likely personal philosophy.
There are several responses to this question. Let’s set up some scenarios. I’d like to begin with this: the importance of the time part. In short, if timing for snow stability isn’t a concern, or loss of daylight, or low-temperature related maladies can be put aside, and the group’s vibe is good to excellent, then transition times aren’t necessarily important.
Backcountry Transitions: The First-Timer
Transitioning is complex. Human dynamics are also complex. A newish backcountry skier/rider should practice on-snow transitions before heading into the backcountry with partners. Sure, etiquette may be part of it, but personal frustration will be, too, if you are faffing with gear. Learn how to build efficiencies, like maybe leaving skis on while removing skins or figuring out a streamlined re-buckle system. It is OK to refine these skills once you are beyond first-timer status, but practicing when there is no time pressure is preventative medicine.
Even after practicing on your first tours, it’s more than OK to communicate that your transitions are a work in progress. Anyhow, if you feel time pressure to perform in a group, and it feels like negative energy, it probably is—that type of vibe is poor etiquette, too.
Transition 101 for Landen Parker: Skin removal on his first ever …almost…time to click into bindings and smile. We mostly smiled..
Backcountry Transitions: Beyond First-Time and Gaining Experience
I’m beyond a first-timer, but not quite yet a last-timer. Still, I find myself tweaking my transitions on the regular. For example, with longer than, say, 180cm skis, I struggle to rip skins while my skis are on. I blame my tight hips. No matter, stepping out of my skis adds time. This speaks to the variability of transition times, even for those well-versed in the art.
So, a two-minute transition, honestly, might be a push for me. Does that mean I have improper etiquette? I’d like to think not.
I’m guessing, at this point, you likely have regular partners. You are also likely familiar with each other’s transition idiosyncrasies. Some might dilly-dally with the stowing skins; others might burn time with positioning goggles or excavating a helmet from their pack. However, since you are familiar with the group, I guess everyone “gets it.” Which is to say, some are faster, and some are slower. If you find yourself on the slow end and are frequently holding others up, maybe do a bit more practice.
And if speed is not paramount, transitions shouldn’t be a race. A race implies winners and losers. This is backcountry touring; after all, look at that view, everyone’s a winner. A transition time in the four-minute range is acceptable here.
Backcountry Transitions: The Experienced Transitioner
What is there to say? You’ve likely found your people. This means you’ve likely settled into a groove regarding group dynamics while transitioning. The same applies here as above; if you feel you are waiting too long or holding others up, then have a discussion and make adjustments. But, at this point, the question can be asked about the two-minute threshold being the criteria for good etiquette.
Two minutes seems reasonable here, but it also feels like the speedy end of what we may consider good etiquette. Transition speed might be impacted by stormy conditions, cold hands, skin glue issues, or any range of fumbling or bumbling.
This is not an advice column, although it is beginning to feel like one—three minutes plus isn’t out of the question for an experienced transitioner. Although this isn’t a manners and etiquette diatribe, does the napkin always go on the lap? In some cultures isn’t it OK to slurp soup?
Beyond etiquette, the other thing to consider is simply getting an objective done in a reasonable time. Time spent transitioning, especially in rolling terrain, adds up on big single-day or multi-day traverses. Two minutes isn’t necessarily good etiquette—although your partners will thank you—it’s good practice. You’re more likely to complete the traverse in a reasonable time with quick transitions.
The Ski-Moer
Go on YouTube and see for yourself—cats like Kilian Jornet transition in a clip that must alter the time-space-continuum: 20 seconds. Maybe it’s more than 20 seconds. (The vid is about nine years old, so scoff if you want at his chillness, and the fact that you might beat his transition mark by 0.035 Lycra-seconds.) If you are amidst a group of ski-moers, and that transition time is the norm and expectation and anything slower gets the Lycra bunched up, you folks do you. Know the scene you are getting into. In this case, the two-minute transition is blasphemy. It is not only poor etiquette, it does nothing for your Strava profile.
Conclusion
The two-minute transition seems like a good aspirational goal for the newish ski tourer. (Maybe add a minute or two for splitboarders to “unsplit” the board. Or maybe you use remarkably fiddly boots.) Applying this time metric to qualify partner etiquette might miss the point. The point is to have fun, communicate well, and come home friends. Yes, the turns, get after the turns, but they are ancillary.
If you read this and choose to take an organized avalanche class, take plenty of time to head into a safe zone and practice on-snow transitions. Your teacher and classmates will appreciate your transition economy. It means more time, ultimately, spent on the learning.
As always, readers, please feel free to refine what is or is not proper etiquette.
I consider quick efficient transitions part of the ski touring skill set but i am tolerant of those that aren’t as quick unless they are trying to put skin savers on their skis on a windy day ( or any day to be honest). No ski savers at transitions!!!! HA!
Outside of etiquette, having the capability to transition (very) quickly seems like a safety factor. A partner that can transition quickly seems like a safer partner in the same way that a very fit partner who can dig you out quickly is a safer partner. It seems like a lot of rescue practice happens in terrain parks or on 10 degree slopes with skins on and heels unlocked but… that’s not where avalanches happen. If you’re skinning along and a buddy gets caught in an avalanche in front of you, you’re probably not going to ski down a 40 degree bed surface with skins on and heels unlocked. Or if you ski a line first and then a buddy triggers a slide skiing second and doesn’t get carried all the way down to you, you may need to throw skins on to get up to them. Those extra minutes on your transition could become very meaningful. Seems like a good enough reason to have an expectation that everyone have a rapid and efficient transition, even if most of the time you’re just hanging out while transitioning. (Obviously not a reason to be harsh with beginners or anything like that, but in terms of standards that people should probably put in some real practice to ensure they can meet, I gotta admit that I would not want a partner to be fumbling around with a 3-4 minute transition if they need to transition to search for me. Just an hour or less of practice figuring out a consistent, efficient process can get you pretty darn good at transitions. Seems like time worth spending?)
Hey Ben, thanks for this comment. I do think it is important to make a clear distinction between efficiencies. As noted, I know plenty of speedy transitioners who often just simply slow down at this or that transition (me included). I think all folks should move towards having the ability to quickly transition. But how and when they employ a quick transition might vary from situation to situation. I recall Nick Russell discussing this a bit. However, as you bring up, the emergency scenario requires focus and quickness. 100% a 3-4 minute fumbling transition during a rescue is too slow. Like Ben states above, we hope folks do practice their rescue scenarios this fall.
The great thing is, you can practice this at home, no driving needed, you don’t even need snow.
Go out on your deck or lawn, or in a roomy space inside, or nearby park, and practice away.
One way to always seem fast is to ride with splitboarders, that way you’re always the fastest one in the crew! Seriously though, for a casual tour 2 minutes is ridiculous to me. My group is usually out for more casual outings and are spending a few minutes at the top chatting, snacking, and rehydrating. Maybe this would rub some people the wrong way and while I can certainly move faster that’s not something I’m doing on an average day out.
Some of the best banter is at the transitions. It’s easier to shoot the breeze when your warm, locked in, and snacked up.
Being capable of doing a fast transition is one thing, but being selective about your transition speed is key. When i am skiing with a group, I actually try to be the last one finished with my transition. I am comfortable taking my time, and this can de-pressures others in the group from being the “last”. For me, the transition is an art form. Yes you can be fast, but can you put on your jacket, eat snacks, fiddle with your stuff, and still be clicked in ready to go when the time comes, all with out being rushed? Shooting to be the last one done makes the experience better for everyone else. Being able to do it fast means that even if you start when everyone else is almost done, you still wont be off the back. For me its about the vibes. Being the slowest on the skin track/transition/ski down sucks. It is my goal to ease the pressures on others I am skiing with so they have a better experience, and being fast but slow enters into that equation. I don’t need to prove how rad I am by how fast I can transition. Last to finish is admirable. Of course, being fast is an element in this, but there is a lot more to learn and observe than just being “fast”. Like everything, transitioning is a skill set that you can continuously evolve on. Reading the group is as important as reading the terrain. Possibly even more important. The transition is a place where we can practice this.
Barry,
100% agree with you! By and large, we’re there to enjoy a day in the hills with friends. At the bottom, transitions are way more about high-fiving and fist bumpin, reveling in how rad the last run was, or not; watching your crew drop (to share the stoke and from a safety aspect), riding the endorphin high. At the top, its fighting the chill from your freezing sweat; scoping the line; discussing hazards, safe zones, etc. Totally appreciate the simple crew politeness of not holding the team up, and operating efficiently in the hills, but there ain’t no Strava PR for transitions.