When I went to Momentum (formerly SMS) in 2001, the crazy kid in my group was a ripper that barely said anything but was throwing Lincoln loops over the big jump and schooling the entire under-16 population of the camp. He then got caught smoking weed in his room right after he smoked me in the camper slopestyle contest. I got moved into first place by default, but it more firmly established his reputation as the camp crazy. The other option was to scorpion yourself, by repeatedly trying backflips, whenever Sarah Burke could see you. During my session, George, the British socialite from Hong Kong who only skied at Vail, did just that.  Unfortunately, his accent and social pedigree deep-sixed his possibility of becoming a true badass, and his efforts to destroy his body were completely for naught.

Fortunately, there are several ways for the visiting pros to notice you that have little to do with skill (which is way too much work these days anyway).  As long as you have a decent 540 under your belt with some bang to it, several options exist to bolster your personality cult at Windells, COC, Momentum, or any of the other glacier camps.

-Don’t talk to anyone.  Ever.

-Endure plenty of physical pain: masochism ensures external curiosity.

-NEVER complain.

-No sun screen: Commit the patron sin of glacier skiing and get a healthy sunburn the first day. Refuse to treat your charred, peeling skin with any ointments or anything that says “SPF” on it.  Never complain.  All the pros wrapping their faces in t-shirts all summer will feel their nuts shrink, even if you can only manage to lip-slide the flat box.  Remember, none of the black people in those rap videos you emulate ever wear sunscreen; why should you?

-No shirt:  Glacier camps require one key element that often goes unnoticed: to keep the jump line fresh and shredable in 80-degree weather, the diggers must throw bags upon bags of  salt each day on the snow, keeping your speed up at the same time as it pollutes the ground water.  Bailing on a trick in anything less than a one-piece can expose your body to the worst rug burn known to man, followed up by the smooth aftertaste of stinging salt in your wounds (did you catch both the literal and literary use of the phrase?  Good, we’re training you well).

Try the halfpipe.  This terrain feature requires more salt than anything else in the park, which means prime pain potential.  After scarring and bloodying yourself on your flair attempt, go back up shirtless (it’s covered in blood now anyways) and curse at odd intervals as you hike the pipe.  As you ready to drop in, give yourself a good curse-laden pump-up speech that includes a few punches to the head.  Fall again and repeat, and land the trick once at the end of the day just so Sammy C knows you have a little bit of talent. This options permits the use of sunscreen, as it will surely blend in with the melting and increase the content of cancerous heavy metals in your bloodstream, cementing your place among Hood’s most core.

No gear: Show up with a duffel bag full of candy and absolutely no ski gear, having not even looked for the camp shuttle bus from the airport, preferring hitch-hiking instead.  This will get the camp staff riled up before they even meet you.  Spend the first day or two walking around the camp begging people for gear.  Prefer single skis and boots of different sizes and make, and no goggles.  Land your best trick the first hit, and then spend the rest of the camp hiking the jump with the really fucked-up takeoff, the rail that’s not all the way in the ground, or the ungroomed landing.