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| Courtesy of Nicolas Müller |
 Pro snowboarders Nicolas Müller and Travis Rice, snowboard photographer Jeff Curtes and Alaska Heliskiing guide Ted Purdy pose for a group photo in April 2006. |
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A typical spring day for Seandog is waking up early, looking out the window to see what the weather's doing. If it's clear, he'll rally the troops. If it's stormy, everyone goes back to sleep.
Sean Brownell, a.k.a. Seandog, is in the business of adventure heliskiing. He owns Alaska Heliskiing, which he's run for 15 years, seven of them out of Haines. His operation overlooks a valley at the foot of the Chilkat Mountains, on the Klehini River.
His job is to fly people into the snowfields for daylong skiing and snowboarding experiences in some of the steepest, gnarliest terrain in the world.
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| Courtesy of Teri Tibbet |
| An Alaska Heliskiing chopper loads up. Middle right, Purdy adjusts gear at the guide shack. |
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"We're not your typical heliski operator," Seandog said. "We get high-end, talented clients that can do just about anything. ... We go and ski it like we want to ski it. It's a totally different way of doing it."
Seandog arranges for the helicopters and the pilots. He hires and trains the guides and manages the daily operations. His partner, Vicki Gardner, does the booking and the accounting.
On flying days the crews rally early. At the landing zone at 33 Mile, Seandog organizes the groups and assigns the guides. People move in all directions. Skiers, snowboarders, film crews, base crew and guides gather gear, fill out paperwork and stand around waiting to get airborne.
Micaela Bauer, who worked for Alaska Heliskiing the last couple of seasons, held down operations at any one of three landing zones as the self-described "base babe."
"Basically, what I do is hang out, a lot," Bauer said. "You just kind of wait for all the action to clear out. You're trying to help people get in the gear they might need - freeskiers sometimes need harnesses, or beacons or shovels and probes. ... We kinda back up Seandog by cracking the whip and helping people get their junk shows together," she said.
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| Courtesy of Alaska Heliskiing |
| From left, Tim Thomas, Seandog and Fishbone take care of daily operations at the shack. |
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Part of the job is keeping track of locations. The guides communicate to her and with each other about where they are, snow stability, weather and good places to ride.
Bauer said she and her co-workers work like a family. Seandog and one of the guides, Fishbone, have been friends of her father, Bruce, since she was young, she said. Bauer grew up in the scene.
When they're out in the field, she worries about them all.
"Like, OK, it's my uncle Fishbone out there and I need to make sure that I know where they're all at 'cause I want all my buddies to come home," she said.
When the riders and skiers are in the mountains, that's when the magic happens. The experience of gliding through cream, dropping in over cornices, sliding on spines and falling gracefully for a thousand meters is why they come back year after year.
On down days, when it's raining or low visibility, people either wait for it to get better or give up and go back to their digs, where there's always something else to do. Skateboards, guitars, iPods and movies fill out the list.
Big-mountain snowboarding legend Axel Pauporté has been riding and filming in Alaska since the mid-1990s. He is known for dropping in on peaks so chiseled and pointed that a helicopter can't even land; he has to jump onto the puffy apex.
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| Courtesy of Alaska Heliskiing |
| Purdy adjusts gear at the guide shack |
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Last season when Pauporté was in Haines, he and his wife, Flora, were making a movie about big-mountain snowboarding.
The documentary, called "Lines," was completed in January and features some of snowboarding's biggest names ripping it up on the mountain and talking about it in behind-the-scenes footage.
He collaborated with Justin Hostynek and Patrick Armbruster, co-owners of Absinthe Films, whose archives contributed largely to the project.
Pauporté said that some days can be a little "iffy" for shooting. On these days, they might load up and drive to 33 Mile and hope for the best.
It's stressful because you're always in a state of getting ready, then not, he said.
"If we don't fly, then it saves money for another day," he said.
Besides weather, snow conditions are also a mutable factor.
Avalanches are always looming. The factors involved in triggering one are unpredictable, and precautions are mandatory. Wearing a beacon transmitter/receiver aids in finding a buried victim. A shovel and probe can save a life. Alaska Heliskiing guides are well trained in avalanche safety and rescue; the operation even offers a guide course.
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| Courtesy of Alaska Heliskiing |
| A group of clients prepare to drop in on a shoulder in the Chilkat Mountains. |
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Swiss-born Nicolas Müller was Snowboard Magazine's Rider of the Year in 2005. He returns to Haines every spring, lured by the Chilkats.
As a rider in Absinthe Films' productions, sponsored by Burton Snowboards, his precise and talented riding is covered heavily in magazines, film and TV.
Müller said he loves snowboarding in Alaska's mountains and likes the way Alaska Heliskiing makes it happen.
"The great thing about everybody there is they know what we're after, what we're looking for. And there just never really is a problem," he said. "Those people know exactly what we're looking for and they know us."
At the end of the day, the helicopters return, one by one, hovering before landing. The pilot steps out and others follow, one by one, smiling and red-faced, caught in the glow.
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| Courtesy of Scott Sullivan |
| Nicolas Müller doing a frontside grab in the Chilkats near Haines. |
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Winding down, they stand around looking at footage and recounting peak experiences. Some change out of their gear behind open hatchbacks. Others gather for a game of hackysack or modified soccer, waiting for the last groups to return.
"We all wait until the last person comes home," Seandog said. "Nobody cracks a beer or does anything until the last person comes home."
Last year, at the end of the season, a crowd of like-minded people gathered on a Monday night at the P-Bar in downtown Haines. The place filled with snowboarders, skiers, filmmakers, guides and locals who hung together like a tribe.
On stage, snowboard photographer Scott Sullivan played guitar and whipped everyone up with his spirited songs.
Seandog stood at the bar with his hand wrapped around a beer, smiling, wearing his ball cap, long hair and signature ear-to-ear grin.
Everything was under control.
COVER: Pro snowboarder Nicolas Müller does a frontside air in the Chilkat Mountains outside of Haines.
• Teri Tibbett is a writer, photographer, musician and snowboarder living in Juneau.
