The Avalanche Heckler – Part 1

By Brendan Martland

This article was initially published in The Avalanche Journal, Volume 133, Fall 2023

Editor’s note: The article below does not represent the view of the Canadian Avalanche Association. It is being published because I always enjoy a good debate on language. ~ Alex Cooper, Managing Editor, The Avalanche Journal.

AS AN AVALANCHE INDUSTRY PROFESSIONAL, I regularly hear and read all the same terms that you do. As an increasingly salty mentor, ITP instructor, and CAA committee member, I regularly have stimulating conversations about how some of these common terms are actually completely incorrect, misguided or misleading.

Over the next few issues, you will find a list of some of the terms that come up regularly, with some insight on how I feel they are being misused. This is an opinion piece, but it has been populated from conversations with senior course instructors, textbook authors, lead avalanche forecasters, researchers and (perhaps all of the above) well-intentioned ski bums.

With the addition of the CAA Level 3 course in 2010, many professional members suddenly found themselves learning a new set of terms in order to speak the same language as other risk management professionals worldwide, such as geotechnical engineers and scientists. We now use these terms widely and they serve a great purpose for our community. As we continue to strive for perfection (well, improvement at least…), we need to regularly re-evaluate how and why we do things in our profession.

The Conceptual Model of Avalanche Hazard has us all speaking the same appropriate language, so if I start talking about grunty windslabs, spicy conditions, and spooky facets (all terms I have used before), I will likely be encouraged to join the party, drink the Kool-Aid, and speak in an agreed upon universal lexicon that captures and communicates these avalanche problems better. The following list is my informal extension of the Definition of Terms for Avalanche Risk Management.

And please, heckle away, folks!

“Settled”

(To sink gradually; To become compact)

Yes, it’s just semantics, but it’s important! We need to be using the right terms. Even the Right Honourable Doctor of Avalanches, Bruce J., thinks so. Surely you all know better? My sarcastic reply to fellow colleagues who misuse this term usually goes something like this: [Well educated professional]: “We were skinning up into the bowl and had a huge settlement all around us!”

[Sarcastic unprofessional heckler]: “Fascinating. How long did you camp at that location, and what was the settlement rate over a 24 hour period?”

This term is actually quite rampant, which is why it appears at the top of this list. The InfoEx is littered with this profanity almost daily. Shame on us all. Here are some helpful terms that correctly describe the physical properties of the event being discussed:

• Collapsed (Oh right, that’s what happened to that layer under the slab that made the dramatic sound and gut-wrenching drop in my stomach.)
• Whumpfed (Not to be confused with the physical properties occurring within the stomach when a widespread collapse occurs. Also, very difficult to spell, so let’s stick with collapsed, shall we?)

“Slackcountry”

(“Slackcountry is Canadian slang for ‘easy-to-reach backcountry’, the off-piste area just beyond the fences and ropes of a resort’s boundaries.” The Independent.co.uk)

“Slack” (Not taut or held tightly in position; loose) As most of you are painfully aware of, educating certain user groups about the dangers of the winter backcountry is an ongoing crux for our association. Many avalanche near-misses and serious accidents occur within several hundred metres of ski resort boundaries. There’s nothing slack about it.

By using the term slackcountry to define an area that holds a high probability of producing an avalanche involvement at some point over the winter, we are doing a disservice to all the AST instructors, ski patrollers, search and rescue volunteers, and professional rescue specialists who would all rather be skiing pow then running out to help with yet another preventable mishap. Outside the resort is the backcountry. Black and white. The ropes are there for a reason, so let’s keep that message going.

[Well educated professional]: “Oh man we got ‘lanched in the slackcountry today.”

[Sarcastic unprofessional heckler]: “Looks like your slacks need changing today.”

Lift-accessed backcountry can be a very scary place, more often than most people might think.

“Tightening up”

(To increase grip or pressure; to pull and make straighter; to have more control over)

They LOVE this term in the Rockies—can’t get enough of it. Use it all the time. Now I hear it spreading further west, too. It goes something like this:

[Well educated professional]: “Everything’s tightened right up—no results with control work.”

[Sarcastic unprofessional heckler]: “Were you spinning the right way? Because for most things it’s clockwise to tighten, but with propane it’s actually counter-clockwise, did you know that? So how do you know what snow is? I can’t find it anywhere in the Avalanche Handbook that I read to sleep every night.”

Maybe because it gets so cold in the Rockies, it’s just too awkward to legibly verbalize the molecular dynamics at play when snow crystals and grains are faced with a significant, but not too sudden, drop in temperature, thereby slowing their molecular little heartbeats and reducing the sensitivity to triggering, which is what we’re really talking about here, isn’t it? That rings a bell… It’s become more stubborn and may even be unreactive.

That’s all for now. Stay tuned for Part Two, where I take on beacons, ski cuts, and more. I welcome your replies. Like any good heckler, I can take as much as I give.

Editor’s note: If you’d like to reply to Brendan or make your own contribution to this series, please email acooper@avalancheassociation.ca.

Click here for Part 2.