During the week-long 1999 World Extreme Skiing Championships, the hotels buzzed with amplified restlessness, fueled by the excess energy of uncarved turns. The competitors hungered for an outlet. Due to bad weather, world class athletes pitted their skills instead at bar stooling, pool sharking, hackey sacking, fine dining, reading and donut buffet sampling, while the Valdez Sock hung silently gripping the Chugach.

"A distinct cry (in the family of huck, duck, puck and truck) echoed down the natural amphitheater...."

Many of the best freeskiers from around the world waited to compete in the world's most intense heli-accessed ski competition. This was to be the 9th Annual World Extremes, but would nature permit it?

On day one, sunrays pushed through scattered cloud cover and the sound of whirring heli rotors filled the valley surrounding Mt. Francis. Overlooking Valdez, the mid-mountain landing zone lay on a plateau below the rising ridgeline to Franny's towering summit.

	Carving Odyssey

The course boundaries contained approximately 1800 feet with 45-55° slopes and an abundance of air, pencil chutes, exposed lines and variable snow with slide debris to spare. Terrain landmarks were difficult to find and made for many a frustrated and cursing skier, but, nevertheless, the show went on.

First into the deep box was Cory Baker, an Alaskan local who returned to satisfy his burning powdie lust in a more competitive level. By the time he started, lines perceived as possible were left humbly unseen by the cloud layer. A distinct cry (in the family of huck, duck, puck and truck) echoed down the natural amphitheater. His line, turned scouting mission, led to an exit up and skier's right, traversing to the only visible line.

The second runner inside the bowl of confusion broke the great ski commandment: thou shalt never trust another's ski track. A series of interesting sounds and possible words spewed from the fog, followed by the soon to be perfected, high traverse off-ramp shuffle.

	Astar Liftoff

From the women's contingent came a balance of grace and seriously aggressive skiing. Despite low numbers, the six ski divas more than made up for the imbalance of the sexes, and many a male ego was humbled by their fast and clean lines.

Francine Moreillon, of Coppet, Switzerland, defended her championship title, winning, for the second year in a row, with 33 points. Another European, Anne Cattelin of Courchevel, France, followed, in second place with 32.4. Winner of the US National Championships in Snowbird, Utah, Jennifer Berg, was third with 31 points.

More Europeans dominated the top spots for the men, with Guerlin Chicherit from Tignes, France winning the men's title with 40.4 points in his first visit to WESC. Seb Michaud, of LaClusaz, France, was second with 40.0 and Jim Morrison from Olympic Valley, CA was third with 38.2. Last year's champion, Arnaud Adam, of Chamonix, was fourth with 36 points.

Guerlin Chicherit took the highest points for his fast, open turns to a sick double drop and then down to the lower cliff band in total control, for a taste of more air and exposed turns.

Jeff Holden, a Whistler, BC local and overall IFSA points champion, opened up huge arcing turns into the middle cliff section. Pausing in the small bowl above the serrated rock, he searched for his landmark where now only chaos of rock and snow were visible. With only a few moments to see his line, he was forced to ski his backup route, a super exposed and technical line that proved to be a substantial gamble as the chances for the title slipped away.

Dave Richards, a veteran skier, entered the course in moderate light conditions. Just traversing out of the gate, he was seen hitting a buried obstacle but recovered and continued on. Into his first turn it was clear he was suffering serious pain, but he continued. At the bottom, he was quickly diagnosed with a fractured tibia, just above the boot cuff. His said his reasons for skiing the course were to protect the safety crew from the exposed area he was skiing and to keep the contest alive. A piece of avalanche debris was to blame for the jarring impact.

"World class athletes pitted their skills instead at bar stooling, pool sharking, hackey sacking, fine dining, reading and donut buffet sampling..."

Dean Cummings and Shane McConkey placed well with lines of grace, rhythm and style and both dropped substantial air. McConkey dropped into a tight waterfall at the bottom to woo the crowd after ripping the top of his run. After the closing party, Shane was off for Norway, in hot pursuit of epic turns.

Day one was shut down after one run, and the waiting game was back on. Mornings of sky scoping finally ended in one more possible window a few days later. All the women and first few men were sent in good visibility, but during McConkey's second run of the contest, as he headed for the Bowl of Chaos, the clouds rolled in from the west. After losing a ski in an unfriendly place, he slowly made his way down through a whiteout, along with another victimized mono skier in the same predicament.

No breaks were visible and after a long wait, and skiers were sent in groups of four to negotiate the zero vis through the many cliffs, rollers and exposed features. Yeehaw!

So after one glorious run, a bomb threat, many nights spent at the Sugarloaf Saloon, miles of pacing and much sleep, the competition drew to a close and focused on one great party. Through the efforts of many volunteers, the largest heli-operated international event was to close for another season. At the center lay the champion, Guerlin Chicherit, falling off his stool and happily drooping off many beautiful girl before being assisted to his quarters. Jeff Holden and Arnaud Adam took turns on the mike while the legendary Alaskan Photon Band rocked the house.

— Jonathon Stanton, Mountain Zone Correspondent