Dry Tooling
ORCA Cannery, PNH, Cordova, Alaska
Athletes: Aaron Martin and Tom Wayes
Camera: Hasselblad XPan
What makes it special: Often it's the in-between moments that count the most.
The story: "The serendipitous path finds ways to show itself; the trick is to notice. No matter how elaborately we plan, no matter how much structure we impose, how much detail we construct, if we pause long and well enough, and take a breath and just plain be, pure moments tend to lay in wait for us. It's their discovery that shows you the way; it makes the journey worthwhile. The potency of the moment is paramount.
The obvious challenge of heliskiing in Alaska is the weather. To be rewarded with the perfect day, you need perfect conditions, blue skies, no wind, and feet and feet of fresh, stable powder. For this to happen you need big storms, processes the Alaskan coastline knows so well. Sometimes it's a tall order and a long wait.
So what do you do hanging through days and days of greybird skies? The early season months of February and March are really cold, the days are very short, and ice-climbing on glaciers and icefalls entices and distracts. But, by the end of April it's too warm and it's no longer safe to climb.
I woke at midday, listening to the sound of the rain before I finally rallied towards the lodge. The boys were geared up, tooling around the old cannery with all their ice tools and crampons locked and loaded. They talked about a new variation on the old hoop game of HORSE. The rules were simple; follow the line previously laid down or fail and get a letter. Last one hanging wins. Today's court would be the grounds of the abandoned cannery. The cannery terrain was limited and the challenge was relatively uninspiring for these world class mountaineers.
I had my camera with me, but the light was flat. I looked out over the water, and an idea presented itself. I suggested that they up the ante and explore the vertical wood poles that stood isolated in the chilling waters of the Prince William Sound. In the early days of the ORCA cannery a lot was happening on this waterfront. Now all that was left from the bustling docks were a few remaining posts, decomposing natural elements to play on as the massive tides moved silently through the sound.
There was a gentle but very real commitment in stepping off the small rowboat onto the poles. Committing to your four points was very real, swimming with all the gear attached to their bodies was an impossibility, falling into the icy waters was not an option.
Suspended in time, Aaron and Tom connect the endless transition of water to sky. It's an otherworldly message...Man suspended between heaven and earth."