A Tribute. Thanks, Quino.

February 22, 2005

Skiing is a safe sport. We wrote about that last year – Is Skiing Dangerous?  And the data hasn’t changed since then. Studies have shown that the injury rate is roughly 2-3 injuries for every 1,000 skier days. The most common injuries are those to knee ligaments and head injuries. Fortunately more than 80% of skiers are wearing helmets in recent years, so the severity of head injuries had dropped.

Yes, there are some deaths every year in the skiing population but the numbers are very small. Over the last decade the number of deaths every ski season are in the mid 30s to low 40s. Given the millions of skier days per year (roughly 60 million in recent years) this puts the death rate at less than one for every million skier days. And the deaths do not come from extreme skiers hucking off cliffs. If you are between 30-45 years of age, male, an intermediate skier, ski fast on groomed trails with trees on the sides… SLOW DOWN! You are in the highest risk category for a catastrophic injury.

All of the above relates to in bounds skiing. Backcountry skiing is a different sport with higher risks. Of course there has been no avalanche control work done in the backcountry; the snowpack will clearly be more variable; the terrain tends to be gnarlier ; and the hot chocolate type comforts and safety systems available at a ski resort are distantly in the rear view mirror. Despite all that, if done in a prudent manner by educated and experienced skiers, even the backcountry can be reasonably safe.

While reliable statistics on the risk of in-bounds skiing exist, statistical analyses on the dangers of backcountry skiing are harder to calculate. This hasn’t fazed Bruce Temper at the Utah Avalanche Center. Both in the Center’s blog and an excellent book (Staying Alive in Avalanche Terrain), he has tried to quantify the risks of backcountry skiing. His analysis determines that backcountry skiing is safer than driving in a car for eight hours, and the risk is about equivalent to the hour it takes to drive to the trailhead.

Despite all of the above, the snow gods remind us occasionally that mother nature rules, and we are thrown a curve ball. Unfortunately, we experienced this reality earlier this month when our favorite backcountry guide was lost in an avalanche in Big Cottonwood Canyon in the Wasatch Mountains in Utah.

Ninety-nine percent of our skiing is done in-bounds, but we love the backcountry. We think we are book smart having taken courses for us as humans and with our dog Rumble (See Rumble Does Avi Training). Knowing that book smart people get into trouble, we typically hire a guide when we want to venture deep into the Utah backcountry. Our guide of choice has been Higinio Gonzalez; aka Quino; aka Quinoa (my nickname for him). When the Utah Avalanche Center released its final report on an avalanche in Big Cottonwood Canyon that occurred on February 8th and identified Quino as the one person who died we were thunderstruck.

It is as hard to capture Quino on paper as it was to catch him in the wild. We, of course knew him as a ski guide in the Wasatch range. But, truthfully his skiing always left us scratching our heads. He very capably got down everything but it wasn’t pretty. Despite that, he always calmly let you know he was in charge and you were in good hands. He was known in the international climbing (ice and rock) world for his expertise and as a lead on numerous international climbs. Despite that, he never boasted about his climbing skills and accomplishments, and we had to pry out of him the highlights of his career. He never presented himself as the typical macho man that his resume would support.

I have been pondering why the news of Quino’s death pierced our veil of normalcy so much. Of course the death of anyone you know should knock one off kilter. But it wasn’t like we were close friends with Quino, and, at its core, I suppose the relationship was a professional one. But after pondering it for a week I have come to this. The combination of his low key but compassionate personality combined with spending time in the mountains with a real pro left a deep impression on us. He had a quirky smile, liked to laugh, and settled easily into the banter in which our group usually engaged. But all that was combined with a serious technical side of him from which we benefitted greatly and always made us feel safe in the backcountry. He allowed us to feel comfortable and special in one of our favorite spots in the world. And for that, Quino, we can’t thank you enough.

On my morning walks with my dog I would often run into Quino as he was preparing to take groups into the backcountry. I had such a chance encounter with him a day or two before he died. I was driving back to my house in Little Cottonwood Canyon and saw him on the side of the road. By the time I realized it was him it was too late to stop. I remember thinking I will catch him another time, but instead I decided to loop back to chat. His group was getting together so we had some time to catch up. We chatted; we laughed; we chatted some more; we laughed some more…

So…next time circle back and chat with that friend you see on the side of the road.

Be Well; Ski Well

By Kevin Dennis

conSKIerge co-founder

Kevin Dennis is a life long ski bum with a 34 year legal career on the side. Now retired, he skis 80+ days a year. While he lives in Alta UT in the winters, he has traveled extensively through skiing and has skied almost every major resort in North America (and many you have never heard of). He continues to hit the road often throughout the western United States and Canada and trips over the last several years have included ventures in British Columbia, Montana and Colorado. Whether you want to know about the behemoths like Aspen or Squaw or are interested in the road less travelled (Lost Trail Powder Mountain in Montana or Whitewater in BC anyone?), Kevin has been there, has an opinion and you will most likely have to tell him to shut up after a half hour!