When snow has begun to fall again after a fairly long dry spell, my heart flutters at the change in weather. Snow is my love, and I’ve spent close to 30 years shooting video and photos of skiers and snowboarders in the backcountry.
There looks to be a break in the storm a couple days away with forecasted sun, so I line up a trip with two trusted friends and athletes, Andrew Orlich and Griffin Biancucci, to head into the backcountry and document the day from start to finish. Andrew is a seasoned vet skier—he could’ve been a pro, but chose otherwise. He is kind, hard-working, has a strong knowledge base in snow science, and is highly talented. At just 20 years old, Griff is a young snowboarder, yet we work well together because of his ability to send it off of anything, to collaborate, work hard and have a positive attitude. Shooting in the backcountry isn’t easy by any means. The conditions, communication, timeliness and effort go beyond just trying to have a “fun day in the snow.” We are out there trying to create incredible imagery together. I work well with others who understand this and want to get after it.
Since 1994, I have been acquiring knowledge about Oregon’s backcountry, which has created quite a library of locations to choose from. On this trip, I want to take Andrew and Griff to an area that has volcanic terrain on steroids. The zone has everything from pillow stacks and massive volcanic archways to volcanic tunnels, hefty cliffs and tight, technical lines. I call Griff and Andrew, explain the location, time and assignment. They are stoked and are in.
Sleds Before Sunrise
At 4:30 a.m. my alarm goes off and I wake up excited, with gear prepped and a bit of nervousness—you never know if the sun will show, how good (and safe) snow conditions will be and how the day will go. The number of times I have been shut down by weather, shitty snow or tricky athlete dynamics, and failed to get a shot, is beyond counting, but I always hope for the best and continue to try. Even “failing” in the snow is where I want to be.
I arrive at the sno-park under the star-filled dark sky before the 6 a.m. call time. I am always early. Griff and Andrew arrive early, too, and we are off to a great start. We load the three snowmobiles (or sleds) up with gear, do beacon checks and head out to get our first pre-dawn shots as we head out to the location with incredible snow.
The next step will be punching a trail in on the sleds to our transition point from where we start our touring/splitboarding. Getting there takes effort in skill, guts and navigation. Griff, unlike me, is an animal on the sled and leads the way. We arrive at the transition point as the sun begins to rise, and begin the tour. Vibes are high and the crew is gelling.
Setting the Scene in the Backcountry
We arrive at the location to set up the angle we will be working from and to dig an avalanche pit. The information from the pit is good, indicating the snow should be stable and give us the opportunity to create the shots we’re visualizing. I’ve witnessed avalanches take athletes out, and I’ve been hit by avalanches while shooting. Say what you want about my risk-taking, but I take precautions and try my best to be safe, but even then, things happen in the snow.
Andrew and Griff attack the zone all day long, totaling over a dozen lines/hits a piece. They love the dynamic range, and I am loving the photos we are capturing. As days like this transpire, I am filled with elation. We are three humans intertwined with the earth, using our passion to experience epic moments while creating beautiful imagery. This was a 10/10 day.
Not much else brings me the level of joy I feel by being in the snow with a camera.
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