With ski halfpipe’s inclusion in the 2014 Olympic Games looking more and more likely, the voice of opposition, once a murmur, has begun to ring out. Conventional wisdom would seem to suggest that a nod from the Olympic Committee would only accelerate freeskiing’s meteoric rise from laughingstock of the action sports world to fastest growing segment of the snowsports industry. However, many of the freeski elite seem to be concerned about the larger implications of just such a shift.
Hey skiing. It’s me. Listen, I wrote you some long, stupid letter about how your choices have affected me, and how I won’t support you unless you make some changes. But the truth is that I’m going to be there whether you choose to associate yourself with shitty music or not. I know, I know, I’m an enabler and I’m ruining the intervention, but I’m just being honest.
I’m not going to preach to you, or plead. I’m just here to share a little bit of my experience, strength, and hope as a recovering shitty music fan.
Anyone even passingly familiar with European history knows all too well how our glorious sport of skiing came to be. With that, I’ll spare all 6 people reading this a detailed account of the events that ultimately culminated in Leif Erikson chopping down a tree with his bare hands and fabricating the first pair of gnar-sticks with no tools save telekinesis and stem cells.
Within hours after completing the first descent of K2—switch, mind you—Leif was pouring the tears of his close friend, Baby Jesus, henceforth from the Holy Grail all over Cleopatra in what is believed to be the first wet t-shirt contest ever held.*
Those divine tears that did rush over Cleo’s supple, supple bosom that fateful day were later mopped up by a lowly bar back by the name of Sir Shane McConkey. In what is inarguably the second most important step in the evolution of ski culture (the first being the development of a reliable treatment for syphilis), Shane combined BJT (Baby Jesus Tears) with Hi-C’s Ectocooler to give birth to what we have come to know as “PBR”, or Pabst Blue Ribbon. While the naming of this heavenly mixture was curious to say the least, Shane had, in a single stroke, concocted the official refreshment of skiers the world over.
Let’s get this out of the way up front—in case my clever, witty pun of a title wasn’t clear—I didn’t like PBP’s latest offering, Revolver.
That’s not to say that it didn’t have its moments, or even that most people won’t like it, but I just wanted to be up front in case you’re the sort that takes other people’s opinions personally, or if you have a woefully short attention span. Feel free to proceed directly to the comment box and tell me how wrong I am if that be you.
This might the first honest to god sentimental ski edit ever, and it’s damn near perfect. The skiing isn’t necessarily groundbreaking, the editing is far from revolutionary, but yet the feel and the mood it conveys are unmistakable. All the more surprising is the fact that it’s the brainchild of Ian Compton—a skier better known for silly shenanigans and…uh…well, a big mouth and big teeth. The song accompanying Ian’s skating and skiing is written and performed by Ian’s dad John, and was inspired by Ian’s mom. Corny or not, it’s touching. Thanks, Ian.
It’s no secret that the BroBomb collective was less than blown away by Nimbus Independent’s 2009 project Contrast—a difficult admission as the Nimbus crew’s attitudes towards skiing and ski culture are so in step with our own. Where Contrast was overly-long and mired in philosophical meanderings of the “skiing as life” variety, En Route Nomads is a lesson in film making brevity and, fortunately for us, the shots themselves do all the necessary talking.
When images of Trew Gear’s ’09-’10 line made their way online sometime last year, I wasn’t exactly blown away. I was a fan of the brilliant thumbs-up logo immediately, but nothing else struck me as particularly original. I thought the colors were fairly similar to what companies like SAGA and LDC were producing, and the fit appeared to be thugtastic. Essentially, I assumed that Trew was another fledgling outerwear startup that unabashedly placed “form” miles ahead of “function.” What I didn’t know, was that the masterminds behind Trew Gear were 100% committed to producing some of the most technical gear this side of those brands your dad swears by and that you wouldn’t be caught dead in.
TREW promised us no cheeseball ad campaigns.
Any other reservations I had about Trew were totally laid to rest upon seeing and touching the 2010-2011 line, and talking with the guys behind the wheel. While the designs and colorways of last year’s line were cool—if not exactly groundbreaking in my estimation—this year’s stuff is top notch in both style and quality. Trew appears to have set their sights on a slightly wider audience, while still retaining an undeniable freeride influence and styling. For guys looking to steer clear of skittle steeze and yet still look the part, Trew is positioning itself as a viable alternative.
Thanks to the guys at TREW for taking time out to chat with us, and be sure to check their site for updates.
Three consecutive days of wandering aimlessly around the Denver Convention Center for SIA (stands for Snowsport Insiders and Alcohol) left many in attendance clamoring for something to do other than shake hands and flex skis. Luckily, the brilliant minds behind The Rail Yard at Ruby Hill Park—minutes from downtown Denver—hosted a rail jam on Saturday night.
So, two bored BroBombers, a circus clown, a Garrett Russell, and a charmingly jaded filmer decided to head for the best damn free-public-park-hikable-rail and box-garden-thing known to man.
Courageously shot on two budget point and shoots by Matt Barber and edited (sloppily on iMovie) by yours truly, we present a look at The Rail Yard, and a potential sneak peek of Traveling Circus Episode 5.
Look out for an article and interview with the founders and organizers of the incredible Rail Yard in the next week or so. Simply put, it’s the coolest thing I’ve seen in a long time. For now, head over to their site for more info. Big thanks to Tim Hutchens for being so cool about the whole thing.
SIA is fast approaching, and here at BroBomb we’re kicking off our event coverage with an interview with Mike Waesche of RMU Skis. Mike is a Summit County local, and his special-order-only boards are making waves in the crowded pool of independent ski manufacturers.
Check back over the coming days as we take a good look at what RMU and some other companies have in store for ’10-’11.
BroBomb: Hey Mike, thanks for taking time out to chat with us. You guys just got back from a few days on the road right? What’d you get into?
Mike Waesche: Thanks, Chris. I’m stoked for the opportunity.
Yea, we were down in SOCO for a few days, started out in Telluride, then headed to Silverton. It snowed two feet over night in Telluride, and Silverton received over 50 inches…to say the least: Epic.
Was that trip business, pleasure, or both….and more importantly will we be lucky enough to see any footage?
That there is the grey area…who would of thought skiing powder could be a tax write off!? We are working on a new edit to show off our new pow ski, the Professor, and it should be up around the 15th of this month.
The Professor. RMU’s powder whip. Early rise, and 122mm underfoot.
Oh, the wonders of capitalism…How did RMU come to be? Who are the key players?
RMU was the search for a better way, it was about the product. My good buddies Chris, Ocho, and Alex were all down for the cause from day one. I think Ocho’s exact words were, “Drink beer and build skis?…I’m in”.
My life. How good do I look?
If I gave one worthwhile suggestion in my previous Disabled List entry it was this: find a way to be on skis post-injury, pre-surgery. I did just that this past Sunday when I rode at Angel Fire Resort in NM. I headed up to AF with a couple of pals with the intention of just cruising a few groomers in order to beat back my obnoxious ski cravings. I convinced myself in the car that simply sitting on the chairlift with headphones on and straight-lining flattish runs would be a nice little treat before the cutting—and, right up until I found myself at the top of the most meticulously maintained baby shred park known to man—it was. Needless to say, I unleashed my entire trick catalog on a number of ride-on, buried features. It took roughly two runs. While I probably looked ridiculous and gapertastic trying to spin onto ride-on flat boxes, I had an absolute blast. It was warm, sunny, dead, and most importantly…free (titans of ski media don’t pay for lift tickets). It was exactly what I needed to reconnect with why I love skiing so much. To be honest, nearly a year of living ski-free with NS as my only real source of, ahem, “ski culture”, I was growing more and more cynical by the article. You probably noticed.
So, Tuesday the Doc finally fixed me up.
What they allegedly did.
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