After the men’s final competition was postponed Saturday, due to bad visibility, the world’s best freeride skiers and snowboarders once again took on the mythical 600 meter North face of the Bec des Rosses. In perfect conditions the 24 male riders put on the most spectacular show with the fastest and most committed edition of the 15 years of the “Xtreme”. Several first descents were opened on the face. With this high level, the battle for first was extremely tight. The breathtaking performances of Swede Kaj Zackrisson, ski, and Frenchman Xavier de Le Rue, snowboard, took them to the first step of the podium.

Final Freeride World Tour Results 2010

Verbier
View Mens Final Ski Results from Verbier
View Womens Final Ski Results from Verbier

Overall Tour
View Mens 2010 Overall Tour Standings
View Womens 2010 Overall Tour Standings

Below is Lake Tahoe freeskier Jt Holmes account of his crash at Bec Des Rosses…

The Bec Des Rosses
By, Jt Holmes

I want to share an account of my crash in Verbier. I am not sure if the word to describe it was horrendous or legendary, but I hope it’ll be considered the latter. The description got lengthy, so I apologize, but hey, it was a lengthy crash.

There was a line to the skiers left that appealed to me, gnarly, steep one with a big air. I am a firm believer in skiing a line on a mountain that speaks to you, one that you notice right away. This one did. I pointed it out to Cody and said “I think I am going over there.” Cody, without skipping a beat replied “Do you want me to be one of your pall bearers?” We have sick senses of humor, and from that moment onward, we referred to the line as “The Pallbearer.”

I liked The Pallbearer, and I chose it for many reasons. I was going second to last, so I wanted to do something creative. All of the stock lines would have bomb holes and tracks by then. After the warm storm that came through, I figured the snow up higher would be better, and I like to take big airs at the top of runs that are on big mountains, because by the time you get to the bottom of the Bec Des Rosses (which is 1000ft taller than KT22 and way steeper) your legs are spent. And most of all, I wanted to win the Verbier Extreme, dammit. I have never won a big mountain comp. What does getting 3rd or 7th do for me? It proves I can hang, that I am really good at big mountain skiing, amongst the best competitors. But, that is proven by being in the starting gate, and by having a solid career for years. I wanna prove that I am the best, dammit. I want a W, a blue ribbon, a 1st place trophy. The Pallbearer was a winning line, it appealed to me. It was on.

First, I navigated a few hundred feet of terrain that was as steep as McConkey’s at Squaw, and similarly boney with much longer exposure. Then I hucked the cliff band in the photo. I landed the cliff, just barely shorted it actually. I wanted to be a touch to the skiers left of where I landed, thus avoiding a protruding rock.. Skiing in, I was blown away at how flat light it was over there in the shade. That confused me for a sec. But more so, it took the accuracy out of take-off trajectory. Anyway, shorting was no big deal, my skis tapped rock, but it was so steep that I landed fine and was on my way, just a bit in the back seat, and still struggling to see. This may not have been a problem, I may have been able to sit up from the back seat and keep going if I did not have that mandatory left turn to negotiate in order to avoid the rocks to the right of the track. Hitting those at 50+MPH was not an option. I was really just kind of asking too much to pull off that turn on 50 degree wind buff while sitting up from the back seat. The next thing I know, I was high side catapulted after touching down for a moment and I am airborne, thinking “that…just…happened.”

Note the impressive spacing between divot mark number one and divot mark number 2, in between which my skis and a pole are seen lying there.

At this point, I proceeded to tomahawk down 45-50 degree windbuff… for days. The inertia was incredible. I wear an item of gear that when activated by pulling a handle, inflates a pillow type thing around head and neck creating an air pocket for avalanche burial survival. Amidst the tumble, I figured, “why not pull the handle?” the pillow will provide good protection. I could not reach the handle because the centrifugal force would not let me bring my arms in. My jacket was up, so I couldn’t see much. Just felt myself tumbling like someone put me in the clothes dryer.

The Bec Des Rosses is about 2700 feet from starting line to finish line. I rag dolled a good third of the face. 800ft? maybe 1000ft? Timy, who was standing at the finish line after laying down an impressive line for his first attempt at the Verbier Extreme, said to me “man, I thought your boots were gonna come off” He also estimated my tumble to be 1700 ft. I think he is wrong, I mean, we all know that Timy is at least a little bit off, right? But no one was out there with measuring tape or a laser range finder, let’s just say it was one hell of a wipeout.

To be honest, it was not that scary. I knew that it was a clean fall zone, with the exception of that one rock I tumbled over. That was of concern, but I knew it was a cliff band that I would go over, not a wall of rock that would stop me, or pin-ball me into a change of direction toward bigger cliffs. I just tried to relax because I knew there was no stopping it. I never impacted anything hard, and I walked away with an aggravated right knee and bruised/tweaked ankle, maybe a week off of snow. As soon as I was able to dig my heels into the snow and stop, I waved that I was A-OK. I kept waving over and over and over because I knew that everyone was concerned. And when I say everyone, I mean the thousand or so people that were present and watching, the people who may have been watching on live feed, the local news, Eurosport, French, Swiss and Italian TV.

I was disappointed to bail like that in front of everyone. And it was humiliating that a heli plucked me off the mountain via long line. If you look at the picture, you can see that my skis are way up the hill, in between divots 1 and 2. It would have taken me forever to climb up to them, and I was waiting for the adrenaline to subside because then I would know if I was injured or not.

In terms of the outcome, it rattled me a bit mentally more than anything else. It was humbling. I watched CR go with a much less dramatic crash, so that hit home. Being in a tumble like that, in which there is just no stopping, no matter what, you really realize that the mountains and gravity are the boss. I thought to myself mid tumble “well, I knew if I fell here I would go for a ride, now, I am going for that ride.” It was a proud line, a zero or hero scenario. I got a taste of zero, but I will be back to the Bec Des Rosses for redemption.

via dogolition
via unofficial squaw