The First Chair

On Killington’s opening weekend I rode my first chair alone. As I headed up the front of the snow-less slope on the old triple chair I thought back to all the past seasons. It’s hard for me to take my mind off of my everyday chores. Life seems so rushed. Skiing is my time. It’s my time to detach from the noise of society. As skiers, we are individuals who live for a challenge and for personal achievement. In freeskiing there are no losers. There are no teams. It’s every man for himself, its us versus the mountain in a never-ending battle. At the end of the day, the mountain always wins. There is always a line we could have skied faster, or a trick we should have stomped cleaner. Somewhere in the midst of this daily defeat is a bit of success and a taste of personal achievement. This is what drives us all as skiers. Whenever we push our limits or learn something new we win our own personal battles. We gain a little more confidence, and leave the mountain ecstatic, fueled by personal achievement and eager for the next day on the mountain, for next challenge in life.

We move through life lured by thoughts of success as we search for our own self-actualization. To achieve self-actualization one needs to live life at their fullest potential, many may never achieve this. When I think of living life at the highest potential, I think of my brother Jim.

For Jim, achievements were his great journeys, his adventures, his crazy stunts, and his skiing. Jim had a craving for adventure and an unstoppable desire to push the limits He had incredible talent and unbridled confidence in everything he did. He lived outside the boundaries set by society, the boundaries that keep us from our fullest potential. He walked through life on a path less traveled, a path that he created. With personal achievement as his fuel Jim set his own limits and carved his own tracks not only on the mountain, but also in life. Jim loved life everyday and he helped us all realize that life can be whatever we want and that true success is to love the lives we live. During his 21 years Jim touched the lives of many people and left his mark on this earth. I do not feel sorry for the life Jim lived. I do not look back in regret; instead I look forward to each day I get to live on this earth that was Jim’s playground. He lived with the heart, the soul, and the confidence to lead the life he loved. The life Jim lived is a lesson to us all that we carve our own tracks in life. I realize now that Jim lived in the realm of self-actualization.

The passing of 2 seasons have erased Jim’s last ski tracks from the snow. A granite plaque secured in the rocks near where Jim had laid is all that remains, however Jim lives on in my mind and in the minds of the ones who knew him. When I ride up the mountain in that lonely first chair at the dawn of another personal battle I now see the life I want to live. I now know that I will never really ride a chair lift alone again. I will ride with Jim this day and forever.

In Honor of Jim Franklin… 1983-2004

Another Day, Another Core Shot

September 14th, the day that my brother Jim died one year ago, in a strange way turned out to be a peaceful day. A day of success for Jay and I accomplishing what we had traveled so far to do. A day that I fulfilled a promise. I had promised Jim in my dreams that I would ski the line down to the rocks where he had passed one year before.

On September 11th Jay and I traversed below the famous Cerro Martin Peak in the Las Lenas backcountry. Guided by Jose from the Las Lenas ski patrol we approached a wind swept pile of snow and rocks. In a backpack we carried a granite plaque created by my father John, my uncle Shawn and myself; it read:

James W. Franklin
Jimmer
1983-2004
Another Day, Another Core Shot

My uncle had told me that there was something special about a person's name carved in stone, he was right. Jay and I had traveled to Las Lenas Argentina to deliver the stone to this spot.
The weather was deteriorating quickly, the great peaks of Cerro Entre Rios and Cerro Martin were not visible, the wind was increasing and it was snowing moderately. We built a rock platform at the base of a large boulder that would act as a shield from any wind or avalanches. We placed the stone plaque and began our 3 mile journey down the canyon to the base of the mountain with intentions of returning on the 14th. By the time we reached the base the storm was in full force. The wind howled outside the hotel all night into the next day. The storm pounded the mountain for more than 30 hours, this storm was not predicted or expected. With the increased avalanche danger and poor visibility the Las Lenas backcountry was inaccessible for the next 2 days. I hoped the weather would clear for us to return to Jim's spot on the 14th.

The morning of the 14th the skies were finally clear. The storm had dumped tons of new snow and the wind had blown the snow into the chutes, bowls and pockets.
We met up with 3 of Jim's friends from the year before, Dave, Skyler and Raja. Skyler's first line of the morning was sick, a steep line, almost too steep for the snow to hold. A 15 foot drop at the entry down a narrow chute to a 15 huck and mandatory rider right turn on exit with at least 600 vertical feet of snow and rock below. We watched from the canyon floor, I have to say it was one of the craziest lines I have ever witnessed. He exited the chute with his arms in the air and dedicated the line to my brother Jim.

At noon time we headed to the Marte chair once again, this time armed with a bottle of champagne, a Cuban Cigar and intentions of summitting Cerro Martin. The weather was perfect, sunny and clear, but chilly. The air was so still, Dave had been up there many times and he said that he had never seen it so calm, it was silent. From the top of the Marte chair Cerro Martin peak is accessible by about an hour hike to 11,200 feet. The hike was brutal for Jay and I coming from sea level the air was so thin. My lungs and leg muscles ached with every step. We walked the edge of the ridge, off to the right was more of the Argentine Andes and to the Left was Chile. 800 vertical feet below I could see where Jose, Jay and I had traversed a few days before. When we finally summitted Cerro Martin I could see down to Jim's rocks where we had placed the plaque on the 11th. Across the bowl to skiers right was the cliff line that Jim had thrown the infamous front flip off last season. Jose and Mike were already waiting at Jim's rocks. I raised my arms in the air and yelled, "Jimmer", it echoed quietly off the distant peaks. The snowfall and base depths were so large this year that everything looked different than I had seen in photos. We scoped the lines off the lip and down the bowl, all of them steep lined with rocks and filled with wind packed snow for the first 15 meters, pure untouched powder after that. Right then as we stood on the thin ridge a breeze broke the silence and one lone cloud rose from the valley behind us. It passed right through us and rose into the sky. I knew that it was Jim just letting us know he was there with us in this moment.

One at a time we slipped off the small cornice and down into the open bowl. The snow slid around my skis, I rode the small slide down as I turned. The last 400 vertical I finished with 4 large turns. All I could hear was my skis cutting the fresh snow. The decent to Jim's rocks meant something different to all of us. We all skied and rode it like it was our last run, for me it was the fulfillment of a promise, a promise I made to Jim.
We all gathered at the rocks, I felt so small surrounded by such large peaks and so grateful to be there with these people who were Jim's friends. We brushed Jim's plaque off that was covered with blown snow from the last 2 day's storm. We all sat for a while, drank champagne and poured some on the rocks, smoked a cigar and enjoyed each others company. Everyone said their words to Jim and started their journey down the valley. Jay and I stayed behind. One at a time we each left a picture there with Jim's plaque, a picture that we had treasured. The rocks where Jim had lay one year before were about 30 meters from the plaque and were buried this year because of the huge snowfall. We carried two large rocks to this spot and put our skis in a cross. I knelt in the snow there and looked up at the peaks above. The spot truly was blessed with beauty that is unexplainable. I could feel the power of the mountains that Jim loved so much. I felt so lucky to be there in that moment.

As we headed across the snow fields towards the valley I looked back to the spot that my brother Jim had never left alive, he did leave today with us in spirit.
September 14th 2004, the day that Jim left this world on his greatest adventure. Jim has cleared the path for us to someday follow. He will be waiting for us and until then he will be alive forever in our hearts and in our memories.
Another day, another core shot, another day of life, a gift to do as we want with. I don't intend to waste it.
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Jim's Memorial Featured on BigTrix.com