Posts tagged ‘Snowboarding’
He may feel at home on the London art scene but could Ekow Eshun, artistic director of the ICA and a keen snowboarder, cope with a snowslide?
If you are caught in an avalanche you have a 95 per cent chance of survival – if you get help within 15 minutes. Unfortunately, the average time for a helicopter rescue crew to arrive on the scene is 45 minutes, which gives you less than a 30 per cent likelihood of making it out alive.
These kind of odds are at the forefront of my mind when I find myself buried up to my neck in snow on a remote slope somewhere in western Austria – even though it is only part of a training demonstration and help is readily to hand. The experience is still sobering and, if I’m honest, slightly scary.
One cubic metre of snow weighs 500kg and the feeling of helplessness engendered by having it piled on top of you is enough to induce rapid panic. Worse, trying to fight your way free – which feels like a rational response to such a situation – will only make things more fraught. While kicking and shoving creates marginally more space for you in the snow, in the thinner atmosphere of the mountains it proves quickly exhausting. And with each breath you take between exertions, the snow collapses further into the cavity around your body: the more you struggle for freedom the more surely you’ll entomb yourself. By the time I am dug free only a few minutes have passed, but I am eager not to repeat the exercise. It is a salutary reminder that we place ourselves in inherent danger each time we venture into the mountains. more
Ekow Eshun is known as director of the ICA, and a regular on BBC’s Newsnight Review, but beneath his sharp suits lurk the baggy pants of a snowboarder. We sent him to Japan to indulge his passion for powder
When I first took up snowboarding a dozen years ago, I was a danger to myself and others around me. Having never skied, been on a skateboard (good training for snowboarding) or indeed, even stood on a snow-covered mountain before, I was no more steady or accomplished than a toddler taking its first steps. What I was good at was falling; the performance of spectacular rococo tumbles that would launch me cartwheeling down the mountainside in a mass of flailing limbs. Small children applauded as I careered past, their cheers – and the cries of angry parents – pursuing me down the slopes. more