Haines, Alaska’s legendary heliski industry is based around the patient art of wait-and-see. But on a recent trip to the Alaskan Panhandle, one group of Canadians found out that sometimes, those rules don’t apply.
By Mike Berard :: Photos by Blake Jorgenson
The waiting game. As skiers, we’re familiar with the anticipation-filled periods before powder days, epic trips and the winter season. But nowhere else is the waiting game more prevalent than in magazine articles and video segments of Alaska. From the first time an A-star ferried spoiled professional skiers to an Alaskan peak to the current crop of ski-film trailers, the rest of us have been inundated with B-grade stories of whiny pros talking about down-day activities and “drinking it blue.”
It’s a tired story, evoking from most an emotion more aligned with resentment than sympathy (we tend to get as tired of hearing about the waiting game as athletes get of playing it). Thankfully, this past April, MSP films and SKIER photographer Blake Jorgenson brought Eric Hjorleifson, Mark Abma and freeski phenom Sean Pettit up to Haines to prove down days aren’t always part of the Alaskan equation. The result was unlike any Alaskan trip before.
I’ve been to Alaska five times and it’s never been like this. The real magic was having 10 days in a row of sun, which is unheard of. We had time to find unique and interesting stuff, a luxury you don’t often get. —Blake Jorgenson
Alaska is unlike any other region of the United States. It could be argued that the youngest state in the union is more closely aligned with Canada, a nation that shares not only a border but the same resource-rich geography and drool-inducing topography. It’s a land of unlimited potential; a 1,717,854 km2 chunk of rugged coast, barren tundra, towering timber and, of course, mountains. The small heli-ski and fishing destination of Haines is in a seemingly paradoxical location, actually lying south of the Canadian border, with the Yukon capital of Whitehorse a mere four-hour drive north. Here, the Chilkat mountains heave out of the landscape, jutting dramatically into the almost perpetually cloudy sky. What they hold on their slopes is a goldmine of skiing.
Some Alaskan mountains can get rocky or gnarly or the slopes just run out into death traps. Haines has big, steep slopes that run out onto glaciers. It’s like the mountains here are built for skiing. —Blake Jorgenson
Hjorleifson and Abma are both familiar with the Alaskan formula. Abma, originally a bump skier from the lower mainland of B.C., made his mark on the freeski world with his landmark 2003 trip to Alaska and the resulting Best Male Performance award at the Powder Video Awards. Hjorleifson’s segments are well-known for his silky smooth, balls-to-the-walls style, perfected in the Canadian Rockies and brought to massive peaks around the world and in the 49th State. In Haines, both found an Alaska like they’ve never experienced before. Expecting the same hit-and-miss ski schedule as in former trips, the two veterans-in-the-making were surprised to find more hit than miss.
As a photographer, you couldn’t have a better crew to work with; Hjorleifson and Abma have a lot of big mountain experience, their style of skiing is amazing, they’re humble and have that blue-collar work ethic which gets shots. – Blake Jorgenson
Traveling the 60 km from Haines to the Canadian border, the spirit of true wilderness dominates everything outside the truck windows: Bald Eagles, bear, moose, wolf and whale. In the small town of 2,800, residents are an archetype of the North—no nonsense, salt-of-the-earth types. The paint-worn boats in the harbour pay tribute to the resource-based rent cheques. A short heli-flight away, peaks appear on the skyline. Bearing the distinct flutes and long straightlines witnessed in ski movies for the past two decades, these mountains are gratuitously loaded with frequent storms and the obscene amount of coastal snow they deposit. These resource-rich behemoths carry a long and well-deserved reputation in the world of skiing. A story of deep and stable snowpack. A tale of endless horizons dotted with unskied 2,000-metre descents. A place where skiers make a name for themselves, and the mountains they ski.
Sean is unique in that he is fully confident at such a young age. There’s a lot of people with way more experience that would be shaking at the knees standing on the lines he skied this trip. —Blake Jorgenson
There are skiers who have been coming to Haines for ten years that haven’t got what Pettit got on his first trip. He’s really lucky. —Blake Jorgenson
Apparently on his first trip to AK, Sean Pettit chose to stay above the snow, rather than in it. Blake Jorgenson photo
Options are a complex theme in Alaska. It’s not uncommon to go weeks on end before getting into a helicopter. It’s also not unheard of to come back without skiing at all. When the sun does shine, film crews generally move fast to bang off as much as possible. Economists would call this being efficient. Ski professionals prefer the term “milking it.” And while there’s no harm in bagging as many turns as possible, the pressure of skiing Alaska can be crippling—there’s no need to add fuel to that flame. Fortunately for the Canadians, the perfect storm of stability, snow and sun meant days on end to scope and shoot, a luxury ensuring a welcome lack of milk, both in cloud cover and the production. The MSP crew spent ten days exploiting great conditions, ending up with a crop of epic photo and video shots as plentiful as the snow the tracks they laid. The end result, witnessed in these pages and in Matchstick’s new film In Deep: The Skiing Experience, stands as evidence that Alaska’s challenges can be as rewarding as they are frustrating. – Mike Berard
Thanks to the Blake Jorgenson Gallery in Whistler for assistance with this article and for the incredible images. See more of Blake’s work at www.BlakeJorgenson.com.
Check Alaska Heliskiing for more details on how to get some of this for yourself.






