The Edge of Never

"...as a skier I know that taking control requires moving toward the thing you most fear. On very steep terrain, everything in your being screams, Back off! Get away from the edge! But you learn to ignore those voices and move toward the emptiness because if you lean away from the void and into the slope, your ski bases tilt and you lose your edge--the only thing holding you to the hill. Lose your edge at the wrong moment, and it could be the last thing you ever do. Control comes from squaring your shoulders, reaching out and planting your pole down the hill, and moving with complete conviction toward the abyss. It's a thrilling, counterintuitive, high-stakes dance, and it's become my one enduring faith."

William "Bill" Kerig's The Edge of Never was to me a retrospective look at the extreme ski industry. He tries to tackle tough questions in his own life; questions that are important for anyone who has fun in the mountains to ask themselves. Why do we ski? What is the limit to which I can push myself?

The book chronicles Kerig's pursuit to make a ski documentary that will answer these questions to a wider audience. The thread that will hold it all together is a father-son story of Kye Peterson and his father Trevor. Trevor was killed in an avalanche in Chamounix. Kye has become one of the rising stars in the Canadian ski circuit and Kerig wants to take the 15 year old kid to Cham and film him retracing his dad's footprints or, more appropriately, his ski tracks. Through the mentorship of Anselme Baud, author of the Chamounix skiing "bible", Kye learns to ski the steeps becoming a man in the eyes of the filmmakers and guides. He becomes himself, gaining an identity separate from his father's. The kid ultimately skis the Exit Couloir where Trevor was killed, putting a finality on his graduation into the ranks of elite skiers like Glen Plake and Mike Hattrup.

Kerig questions himself the entire book on his role as a film director and the responsibility he has over the lives of the skiers he is wanting to shoot. He skied professionally and so understands the other side of the story. Skiers (and anyone for that matter) act differently and do things they wouldn't normally do while being filmed. Is this fair to put people's lives at risk in attempts of making a ski movie? He ends the narrative describing a day skiing with his family. You have to find a balance, he says, between acceptable risk and responsibility. It's up to each one to find where they are comfortable, but they should at least confront the question at some point in their lives. For me, I'm definitely on the conservative side, but I'm still trying to find that balance. It helps by finding authors like Kerig and Steve House who are willing to tackle some of the same questions that I struggle with.

"There are no guarantees. This is a lesson that the mountains teach. Humility and gratitude are the benefits of such an education and may be the best reasons for sharing this life with others. I think Anselme was right. It's beautiful, sometimes, and anyway, the mountains are here. We must take the best of the mountains and follow life."

Note: If you have seen the movie Steep, which Kerig co-produced, you may be asking why you never saw any of this story in the footage. That's because a tragic accident during the filming causes a lid to be put on the project, and ultimate control of the film in another director's hands. You'll have to read the book to find out what happens, or watch the film of the same title which was finally made recently. I for one am now hungry to see the footage that the book talked about so in depth.