Friend and internationally renown big-mountain shredding savage Ptor Spricenieks, seems to know everyone in the line, and takes a quick break from his conversation to mention to me how busy it is today. “Busy?” I repeat back to him. A hush comes over the 20 or so now gathered as the head patroller steps out of the tram cabin. Now this guy is truly burley, and in a sober and incredibly thick French accent he proceeds to addresses the small crowd with today’s avalanche conditions and safety concerns. This…is not like home.











The night before was the first big storm that France had seen this year, leaving behind 45cms of minty fresh pow. Normally, if I’m at a resort, 45cms means a carefree and full-bore assault of glorious safety-controlled inbounds terrain. But from what I strain to decipher from the patroller’s morning speech, this would not be the case.











The Telepherique de la Meije, rising out of the small village of La Grave, France, is notoriously dangerous. Not the Telepherique itself, but rather the 6300-foot descent from the top of the lift. Massive icefalls, huge exposure situations, steep ice couloirs, mandatory airs and exits, hanging convexities, looming terrain traps, bridged crevasses and rapidly changing weather make for an authentic big-mountain-survival experience.






“For anyone ‘oo iz not knowing…” the patroller continues, “der iz no control ‘ear at La Grave. All terrain is off-piste, and each of you are responsible for your own safety on the mountain.” AKA: No groomers, no ropelines, no signage or warnings of hazard, no avalanche control, no nothing! Basically get dropped off at 10,000ft, in the middle of heavily glaciated backcountry,…and enjoy!










The 20 veteran euro-gnarlers didn’t blink an eye at the “Considerable” avalanche rating and proceeded to cram themselves into the lift cabins. After all, it was January 3rd, and this was basically the first snow of the season. The timing of my arrival was impeccable, and the local’s thirst for pow was tangible in the air. Raging cabins lauded the first-in-liners, and at the top and as soon as the doors cracked there was no hesitation to begin our feast.






Judging from the taste of fear and excitement in my mouth, I knew I would have to keep my backcountry safety etiquette running full tilt. I found that if I skied just beside their tracks, keeping Ptor in view and others at a safe distance, I could remain as safe as possible, and still get a good run. And by “good run”, I mean to say -- THE MOST PROLONGED, SICKITATING AND SAVAGLY EPIC POW EXPERIENCE OF MY ENTIRE LIFE!!! A 6300 foot pow run top to bottom is really, in reality, pretty stinkin’ AMAZING to say the least.















Lap after lap we insatiably feasted, but with my heavy camera bag packed with lenses and avi gear, my legs began to burn. Ptor took me to stash after stash, and I nervously picked down pinner couloirs and past crazy exposure. Holy bay jezus was it ever amazing though, and the risks were paying off as one of the best days everrrr!










People die every year here, including some of the greatest ski mountaineers of our time. If you hadn’t heard of Doug Coombs by 2005 you didn’t know anything about Big Mountain skiing, and that was before he died tragically in a couloir at this telepherique with his friend and skilled AMGA ski mountaineering guide Chad Vanderham. Since then the stories of their amazing lives have been shared worldwide, and so too has the dark and mysterious reputation of La Grave. It almost seems that there is a merciless indifference that the mountain personifies, and no matter who you are, or how experienced you may be, this mountain can take you down.










Almost everyone I know who has come here has had or seen something crazy happen, and guess what?..I was to be no exception. At least I was not as unfortunate as a friend of mine who got caught in a size 3.5 avalanche on his very first run off the lift – he was just plain lucky to survive - but his injury would be the same as mine. He tore his ACL in a 2500 foot high-velocity terror-ride down a massive alpine flank, and I tore my ACL making a dinky little straightforward pow turn in shallow snow. Goes to show that having your guard up for all the technical exposed moments cant help if you just let it down for a single simple moment. BLASTED!!! Last run of the day, low on the mountain, 40cms of pow on bare ground, catch a stump under the snow, twist leg, hear pop, tomahawk once, then swear and whack pole in the snow with anger. Pretty simple really, and boy did it ever happen quickly. Hero to zero. The pain wasn’t really that bad, but it was the knowledge of the repercussions that really stung.










I was staying at a wonderful little Sheppard’s house with Ptor in a village called La Terrace about 20 minutes walk straight uphill from La Grave. There are these tiny little villages peppering the terraced valleys there, and you can really feel the great heritage and beauty of the place. The Sheppard Matthew and his wife Charlotte turned out being two of the most hearty and wonderful people I’ve ever met. I was stranded there for weeks before arranging transport back to Canada. Matthew caked my knee up with this weird healing mud that he puts on the broken legs of his sheep, and Charlotte would make up the most amazing French food, bread and wine for me to heal with – both mentally and physically. I was getting stronger just by trying to cut the humongous rock-hard loaf that lived permanently on the dinning table – a little butter and it was the best bread I’ve ever had.










All in all it was a phenomenal trip, and Ill be back in a heartbeat. I don’t mean to scare you away from the place, it’s a phenomenal place, but it is definitely hardcore, and it does deserve a level of respect and concentration not normally required by a single gondola. Even I, who got bucked down on my first day there, had an amazing trip: hanging with chilled out locals, soaking in the scenery, experimenting with making time-lapses on a still camera, eating unreal food, and yes, partying up a one-legged storm all made it well worth the journey. I definitely learned a thing or two, and perhaps with my new knowledge I might make it be like one of those aging mountain gurus from the tram line - looking way out of fashion...and living the true, honest, and utterly pure mountain dream everyday.

Now that’s sexy.
www.la-grave.com
www.rockymountainsherpas.com (Dave Mossop Photography)