A chasm has opened inside me, of the sort that can never be re-filled. Brian Frias passed away last Friday, February 20, doing what he loved, skiing with the daughter he cherished. He was taken before any of us had the chance to say goodbye.
My oft-repeated sobriquet for Brian was “My IT Angel,” for it was his facility at building and maintaining the nuts-and-bolts of the website that enabled Realskiers.com to survive. (Without him, we’re now one cyber assault from extinction). But Brian was so much more than a brilliant troubleshooter; he was a collaborator and hands-on spirit guide to the mysteries of how web software works. He is utterly irreplaceable.
I first met Brian when I was working for Head and he was a rep for Jeff Brumbach’s well-respected operation. At the time, part of my job was to rep the brand in my local territory, but it was clear I needed to move in-house at Head Wintersports’ new HQ in Byfield, MA. I tapped Brian to replace me because he knew the territory well and because I knew he was a quality person, someone who could be counted on to do the right thing no matter the circumstances.
But it was Brian’s unflagging efforts to bring Realskiers’ content to life that demonstrated just how far he would go to help a friend who desperately needed his expertise, patience and above all, kindness. He was always there to help me put out fires large and small. Again, irreplaceable.
While Brian could read code as easily as an English professor reads Hemingway, it’s not his backroom navigating skills I’ll miss the most, but his good-natured, low-maintenance friendship, grounded in an old-fashioned sense of honor and mutual respect.
Somewhere I hope Brian is able to ski powder every day, but we’re more likely to find after-life Brian casting a line into pristine waters populated with notoriously elusive prey.
Cast on, my brother, cast on. I’ll see you on the other shore.
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From Fallible to Foolproof and Back
In the 1970’s, prior to the adoption of the first ski boot sole standard, boot makers were free to concoct any sort of sole they might imagine. Many skiers still used leather boots with laminated soles, even after the industry largely moved on to injected plastic, which enabled shapes and sole patterns leather couldn’t duplicate.
This incoherent jumble of boot designs showed no lack of imagination, but little consideration for how they might interact with a binding. Bindings were likewise free from any standards that might have limited the creativity of their designs, many of which were crafted specifically to reduce or eliminate the role of the boot.
The Road to Perdition
The road to hell is said to be paved with good intentions. In my experience, the friends and relatives of prospective boot buyers are a wellspring of wretched advice wrapped in bright ribbons of sincerity and concern.
(Let us pause a moment and prayerfully acknowledge the gratitude of bootfitters everywhere that the new, pandemic-driven bootfit protocol discourages the presence of a bootfit entourage composed of family, moral supporters and consiglieri.)
Back to the subject at hand, the particular nugget of advice I’m leery of is the customary admonition to avoid too stiff a boot as it will hurt, you’ll hate it eventually if you don’t detest it immediately, and it will inhibit your skills development. Get only as much boot as you need and no more, goes the conventional wisdom. Racers need stiff boots; you don’t.
The Making of a Skier, Part IX: The ASTM, Carl Ettlinger and I
One of the many hats I wore as North American binding product manager for Salomon in the early 1980’s was that of delegate to the American Society for Testing and Materials (ASTM). I believe the first meeting of F8.14 – the sub-committee on ski safety – that I attended was in Pennsylvania. I was flying under the wings of Salomon’s seer of all standards and patents, Gilbert Delouche, and the binding product manager for the North American zone at that time (and my mentor), Joe Campisi.
I was a babe in the woods, but I soon caught on to the game under Delouche’s patience guidance. I recall a debate on the binding specification then being batted around in the technical committee chaired by Carl Ettlinger. Ettlinger wanted language that would require any release/retention setting of 10 or above to be “visually distinctive” from the rest of the scale.
