Shred-necks: Super Vacation! Pt.2
Shred-necks
Adding snowmobiles to the simple equation of snowboarding seems like a no-brainer. However, anyone with experience knows that they have the potential to make a simple day of filming simply a nightmare. . Regardless of how much TLC you treat your machine to, you can’t expect it to work perfectly, ever. Besides the time spent getting stuck, or doubling your buddy around, the first days of the season spent on sleds usually bring some mechanical issues along with them. It seems that snowmobiles need to warm up in a similar way that the pro shreds do, preparing their legs for the seasons stomps.
Bjorn officially became a shred-neck (a combination of a snowboarder and a snowmobile enthusiast) on his last trip to the states. He was very excited about his new mechanical friend and probably would have cuddled up with it that first night if we didn’t have to send it towards the promised land of powder on the back of Drew’s truck.
On the same day that Bjorn grabbed his sled, Sani and I bought a trailer with broken lights. After a couple sketchy miles in the dark we found an auto parts store and Sani repaired the wiring. Sani was this trips “Mr. Fix-it”, he amazed us all with his ability to save our asses when our trailers, sleds, cars and cameras didn’t feel like working properly.
The road from the west side of the cascades to the middle of nowhere mountains of Montana is one long, foggy blur. We drank coffee, listened to some good music and made it there eventually. Our friend Jeff Rhyner greeted us in Bozeman and put us up in a great spot to do our thing, but not before issuing us a stern warning pertaining to the avalanche conditions. Sadly, a snowmobiler had been buried by a slide with a 10-15 foot crown and a rescue crew was still out in the dark trying to find him. It wouldn’t be until the following day, and with the aid of a dog, that they would uncover his body.
Great timing on our part! Not really the news you want to hear when you are about to head out into the backcountry, but that’s the reality of working in the mountains so we took what info we could gather and made sure to put it to use when we got out there.
Before heading into the avalanche death zone, we had to meet Blair, who had wisely decided to skip the drive and bought a flight from Seatac. He arrived without delay and we somehow managed to squeeze him into my truck, which I’m claiming could not have fit another item in it if we tried. We completed the last few hours of our drive hoping that Drew and Justin L were safe in snow country.
The first 4 days in our new location were absolutely beautiful, so when we managed to get our sleds started, things were good. The real sled-necks had made solid tracks to every nook and cranny so getting around was easy for everyone. “Man-tana” as a rule is about the coldest place you can go to shoot, but the sun was warm and the snow was still cold so we were able to get everyone a shot or two without any frostbite.
Eventually the clouds returned and Fuller made his way back to SLC with photographer Justin L’Heureux in tow. Drew had been on the road for a month and wasn’t really feeling like he had the shots to prove it, but a broken pipe at his house was causing some problems and he had to run. That same day Kalle Olson, and new photo guy on the scene, Jordan Ingmire arrived.
The new guys brought the cold crush with them, and a new ice age began that put the freeze on our filming progress. Sleds wouldn’t start and my 16mm camera battery turned into an ice cube. I tried strapping hand-warmers to it and keeping in my jacket, but nothing helped much. Most of the guys were ok with it cause it meant that we’d get a warm-up break when it was time to recharge. It was too frigid to go far from the house on sleds but we managed to mess around in the woods near town.
I don’t think my battery botched any real shots, but I couldn’t trust it not to, so I made a panic mission to the city (6hrs round trip) to buy a new one. When I returned it was bluebird and even colder. “Mr. Fix-it” put on his game face and began the risky undertaking of re-wiring the new battery. In order to do this, the old battery had to be dismantled (which meant it would be useless) and we weren’t 100% sure that the new one would work. Without a battery we would be pretty much screwed, and filming would remain at halt.
Jess Gibson (my boss from a previous filming job at Robot Food) had wired my original battery, so I had a vauge idea of how it should work. Sani got his tools out and did the dirty work. It seemed like everything was properly connected and in place. I paced around the house and smoked pretend cigarettes while the battery charged and then it was time to plug it into my camera. Everyone knew that if this didn’t work we were basically screwed. I held my breath as I put pressure on the cameras trigger… Click! The button dropped and my old Arri buzzed to life. Whew! Nice one Sani!
Despite the addition of my fancy new battery, the rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. We did a good job steering clear of avalanches, and it did warm up a bit, but the sun refused to shine on us. We filmed random stuff that might wind up in the movie but nothing that I was writing to Basti claiming about. Blair tested out his no-board, Sani’s sled broke down, and Bjorn wore his Ninja suit for 17 days straight. Kalle ate boxes of cinnamon toast crunch and Jordan took lots of photos but never admitted to liking any of them. Ok…that’s not entirely true. He liked a couple.
Basically, everyone did their thing and then the trip hit the 3-week stretch, and people started looking towards other locations and upcoming plans. Energy started moving elsewhere and the routine may have started to suck. I’m having a hard time remembering if our “Man-tana” routine sucked or not because the bumps on the snowmobile trail jarred that part of my memory. I have a blank spot.
Just in case you have never set up a routine like this, here is an example you could easily follow: GO! Wake up to Best Western waffles and weak coffee. Gas up, drive to the spot, start your sled (don’t forget oil!). Ride over some bumps (and maybe up or down something scary). Look at potential spots to shred, and as a group try to pick one out. Shovel or find an excuse not to. Hit the spot, do or do not get shots, and then try to find another one. Enjoy the colors of sunset from the seat of your snowmobile before enjoying the bumps on the way out. Load the sleds on your truck or trailer, and head back to home base. Take off your gear, and hope that it decides to dry out. Treat yourself to some dinner, go wild on the web, and then dream your way towards groundhog day…
See you in Europe!
Text by J-Holiday
Photos by Justin L’Heureux, Jordan Ingmire, Sani Alibabic, Jeff Rhyner, Bjorn Hartweger
