OK folks, day 3 of Sugarloaf week…

Each winter there is one week at Sugarloaf where all rules are off and shit hits the fan.  We’re talking drinking; we’re talking partying; we’re talking sexin’; and we’re talking drinking.  It’s called White White World Week.  All the bars send in a male/female duo to compete for the honor of King and Queen of Sugarloaf.  It’s costume parties and drinking competitions and lots of craziness.

This video doesn’t do it justice, but trust us.  It’s nutty.  Favorite White White World Week Story: in 2001 the morning after the 80’s party our high school french teacher booted in the trash can during first period.   Class dismissed.

It’s day 2 of Sugarloaf week, and we’re throwing some good old fashion beautiful Franklin County, Carrabassett Valley, Sugarloaf weather your way.  For those of you not familiar with Sugarloaf, please know there’s less than a 1% chance you’ll ever see it like this.

Also, please note that “perfect” is used relatively loosely at Sugarloaf.  Other things that could be considered perfect: sleet, 1 inch of wet snow, any temperature over 15F, any woman less than 20lbs over weight, any beer for less than $2, etc. We’re not a particularly picky people…

Big news here on shredheadcrew.com this week: we’re paying homage to our old stomping grounds — Sugarloaf.  All week long (assuming something wicked rad doesn’t happen) we’re dedicating the daily dose to something Sugarloaf-related (and if we’re being honest, probably just pulling stuff from Sugarloaf’s video page…).

And because the Loaf has never been graced with too much natural snow, the first installment will be a sneak peek into the lives of the snowmakers; those dirty, stinky, pot-smoking, guys who climb around the mountain all day.

One thing…  When asked “what’s the best part of your job?” not a single snowmaker answered “coming to work stoned.”  Weird.

This was forwarded to us earlier in the week and we couldn’t help but notice the corollaries between the science/art/spirituality of skateboarding and science/art/spirituality of skiing.  Yes, there are some differences, but at the end of the day we’re both standing still while managing to move very fast throughout space.  Take a few and give it a read…

Also, does it bother anyone else that we have to repurpose other sports stuff to make ourselves feel cool?  ’Ol Two Step may be right about the hierarchy of coolness amongst sports…

From Arthurmag.com

“Advanced Standing” by Greg Shewchuk

Arthur Magazine No. 29/May 2008

Anyone who claims to know what skateboarding is “all about” is full of shit. To define it as sport, art, science, transportation, play, culture, lifestyle, or anything else is to minimize the unlimited potential within the form. Skateboarding is inherently meaningless. Its lack of meaning is what allows it to be such a progressive and influential experience.

The origin of skateboarding cannot be localized to any single point. The skateboard was never invented; it was discovered by children across America simultaneously as apple-crate scooters of the 1940s and 50s were broken down and converted into the legendary 2×4″ with roller-skate trucks. Thus, the skateboard has no intention behind it: no inventor, no purpose, no ownership, no goal, no rules. Nothing in the creation or design of the skateboard assumes any meaning or value. It is a perfectly uninhibited vehicle of action-oriented possibility.

As the skateboard was refined with technical advancements (urethane wheels, slight changes in board and truck design) and influenced by surf culture and technique, it evolved and attracted the daredevils and visionaries who crafted the form as we recognize it today. The terrain of streets and sidewalks led to ramps and pools and drainpipes, and eventually begat massive concrete skateparks. Journalists and photographers and filmmakers developed a symbiotic relationship with the athletes, documenting the physical forms and commenting on the culture and surrounding artworks and personalities.

The masters of the form, the leaders and great events of skateboard history, the varied terrain and infrastructure: all of this has been documented and pored over by an appreciating audience. And yet, for all of the journalism and vicarious entertainment that surrounds skateboarding, there’s never really been a deeper examination of the form— specifically the subtle internal and energetic processes—of skateboarding itself.

The technique of actually riding on a skateboard is not that different than standing still. The skateboard is a vehicle, with wheels and axles and a platform to stand upon, but there is no drivetrain. A skateboard moves by the kinetic energy of being pushed, or by taking advantage of its potential energy positioned at the top of a hill or transitional wall. Once the skateboard is up to speed, the majority of the techniques start and end with simply riding along—standing still on the platform of the skateboard, while the world rolls beneath one’s feet, occasionally in excess of 40 miles an hour. In this standing position, the skateboard and rider may cover larger distances, they may roll up and down steep inclines, they may ride up circular transitions above and beyond the vertical axis, they may launch into the air and cover great distances through empty space before returning to solid ground. The skateboarder, more than anything, must shift his or her weight and stance to accommodate these changes in trajectory. The technical aspects of contemporary trick performance include a lot of board flipping and body spinning and sideways sliding and shifting and grinding, but the foundation of riding a skateboard in a casual, two-footed stance remains.
The standing skateboarder experiences dramatic changes in acceleration and frame of reference. Dropping into a ramp or bowl sets the rider off on a path of varying degrees of linear and radial acceleration. Physics students are aware that radial acceleration—the way a skateboarder will circumnavigate a bowled transition, or a planet will orbit a star— results in acceleration towards the center of the curve. This curious feature of Newtonian physics segues neatly into Einstein’s theory of relativity, involving acceleration along the curvature of space-time. Einstein postulated a geometric interpretation of the “force” of gravity, and this revelation completely changed the way we view and understand our world.

This means that the skateboarder, in his ongoing dance with gravity and acceleration, can use the fine instrument of the central nervous system to examine the most dramatic and fundamental forces in the universe. This movement affects physiological change, in the form of blood flow and oxygenation and chemical release and so on, but also affects awareness and psychological change. Finding the center in these dramatic curves, attaining balance in the midst of this tremendous spiraling movement, is as much an internal discipline as an external one.

Over the past ten years I have considered skateboarding in the light of two disciplines which are often grouped together as “mind-body” practices, Taiji (also Taijiquan, T’ai Chi) and Yoga (specifically Hatha Yoga). While the comparisons have been made before, a deeper investigation is overdue. Taiji and Yoga are physical practices with corresponding philosophies that have endured for literally thousands of years, drawing from the sophisticated and profoundly spiritual cultures that spawned them: Taiji evolved with Chinese Taoism, and Yoga evolved with Indian Hinduism and Buddhism. A greatly simplified explanation of their intention is to prepare the human participant for the discipline of deep meditation.

Taiji and Yoga use the body-mind correlation to enhance and actualize the understanding and expression of spiritual connectedness. In Yoga, the intention is to “yoke” or unite with the divine through mental refinement and physical alignment in the flow of universal energy. The intention of Taiji is to follow the way—the Tao—by “uniting heaven and earth”, balancing the opposing forces of the universe internally and externally. The famous “yin yang” symbol is actually called the Taiji—it means supreme ultimate, and is intended to suggest that the universe in its true state is in perfect balance.

Considering skateboarding as a mind-body activity and relating it to Yoga and Taiji can allow insight into the less than obvious internal processes at work. It is not sheer athleticism—strength, endurance, etc.—that make a good skateboarder; a good skateboarder must be a master of balance, focus, perseverance, creative ingenuity, and fear management. It takes heart and vision (and a good sense of humor) to ride a skateboard, not muscle. Cultivation of the heart and vision are among the primary intentions of a traditional mind-body activity, and they do not involve a painstaking enhancement of the ego, but quite the opposite. Skateboarders have as much to learn about the physical aspects of their craft from these ancient disciplines as they do about the internal, mental, and spiritual aspects.

Regardless of whether these systems are studied or adopted by skateboarders, the point is that there is an opening here for some higher purpose. When you are skateboarding, any goals or obligations are self-created. The intention of your skateboard practice is up to you. For someone who has been skating for 20 or 30 years, the reasons for skateboarding have probably changed greatly. What begins as sport, art, play, a job, etc. can become an opportunity to merge a physically balanced form with open-minded spiritual potential. This can take place by studying Yoga or Taiji, or by incorporating another religious philosophy (Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Zen Buddhism, and so on) into the mix. It is certainly not necessary, but the choice is yours.

Whatever you choose, you will not be alone on your path. In 50 years skateboarding has developed into a worldwide culture with millions of participants, growing and evolving at the speed of life, and every flavor of humanity and human achievement is accounted for. This progressive, diverse living community is more available to spiritual development than perhaps any other group of people in the history of the world. In America, where freedom of such pursuit is a constitutional right, we have a unique opportunity to follow our own path and uncover personal insight into the deepest workings of the universe, a balanced experience that might as well take place while standing on a wooden plank with trucks and urethane wheels.

I don’t want to try and define skateboarding, nor do I want to attach any extra importance to it. Its meaninglessness is its ultimate value, and any rewards are up to the invididual to discern. That said, the internal processes of skateboarding are available for anyone at any level to explore—but to do so you will have to see beyond the obvious, and you are well-advised to take a cue from some ancient wisdom. Skateboarding goes deep, and it can be about a lot more than fame or success or being cool; it can quickly transcend any imaginary differences between human souls. Skateboarding is a real, life-long spiritual trip, a profound relationship with a higher power. Skateboarding will require you to open up to the unknown, and confront it without fear or judgment. Then you may bear witness to the freedom within the form.

Greg Shewchuk is the director of the Land of Plenty Skateboard Foundation.www.thelandofplenty.org

Pep Fujas and No Poles went on a peacekeeping mission to Kashmir earlier this winter.  While they were unable to broker and fair and lasting peace, they were able to get some good skiing in.  All in all, a successful trip.

Actually, Gulmarg Heli Guides had the boys over to show them the subcontinental goods, though, they had a pretty hard time finding it.  Regardless, it looks like a sweet trip, skiing outside the realm of wealthy white anglo-saxons must be a nice change of pace.  Someday the Crew will get over there.

Fowler’s a near and dear friend of the Crew so we’re beyond happy to see him getting the respect he deserves.  Ironically, this is the second major publication to the feature Don.  The first?  None other than Playboy.  We shit you not.

From the Boston Globe

Passion for runs hasn’t run dry

Ski bums never lose their get-up-and-go

By Tony Chamberlain, Globe Correspondent

If you want to catch up with Don Fowler, a 68-year-old attorney in Kingfield, Maine, you either have to get up around 5 a.m. or wait for a while.

Fowler works in his office through dawn, then most days hangs a figurative sign: “Gone Skiing.’’

It takes Fowler less than a half-hour to get from his office to Sugarloaf, and most midweek days he has the place to himself. The crowds usually don’t start to back up on the Superquad until the weekends and holidays.

So Fowler enjoys doing what he loves most on one of the country’s great ski mountains before heading back to his office with a spring in his step. And then he does it the next day. And the next, and the next. As long as there’s snow on the slopes and the weather is tolerable, Fowler will be up there.

He knows that the term “ski bum’’ is probably “not the best marketing image for your law practice,’’ he said, “but yes, I ski all the time. Every day when I can.’’

The one day this season his ski outing was threatened was when there was a scheduled meeting of the Bar Association. But Fowler was relieved to find that a 4-inch snowfall forced a cancellation. So, of course, he went skiing.

Having a passion for skiing his whole life, and having shaped his professional life to maximize his love of the sport and Sugarloaf, the term “ski bum’’ resonates with Fowler in its most positive and iconic sense.

For Fowler, a native of Cape Elizabeth, Maine, who began skiing around 5, that commitment meant making some compromises. Easy ones, though. “I probably skied more at Sugarloaf than any other Harvard Law School student before or since, though that’s probably not an academic distinction,’’ he said.

One of Fowler’s good friends, John Christi, had a passion for skiing at a young age and ended up running Sugarloaf in its early days, along with nearby Saddleback in Rangeley, Maine.

Now 72, Christi still shapes his life goals in terms of the sport he loves.

“I have two goals,’’ Christi said. “One is to ski my age [years equal to number of days on the slopes per season], and the other is to climb Mount Bigelow at least once every year. It’s my favorite place to climb, and I said to myself 27 years ago that if I could do it every year, I’d know I was still alive.

“The term ski bum is not pejorative in any way. I just found early, back in 1942 or so, I just loved to ski, loved the feeling of it. Everything about it. I was just bitten in those days.’’

As a student at Bowdoin, Christi spent his summers on Mount Hood, where the season extended well into June. “Then, I’d stay there into September, where I could ski, and then by the time I was back east in October you could always find someplace to walk up and put on a pair of skis,’’ he said.

But Christi found that such an extreme devotion had its price. In 1977, he went to Sun Valley for the winter, but when he returned to Maine, Christi put his skis away and didn’t go near them for 15 years.

At Saddleback, business had gone bad. “I didn’t have much money to lose, but I lost other people’s money,’’ he said. “I had a wife and two small boys for whom it was very difficult to live with a guy who was facing failure for the first time in his life.’’

When he divorced from his first wife, “I blamed the ski business for that whole chain of events, and in my mind the sport got intertwined with the business to the extent that it all just soured,’’ Christi said.

But after achieving success in non-ski-related businesses and with a new family at age 50, Christi found that he couldn’t stay away from the sport.

“I always cross-country skied, but for me the sheer exhilaration of [downhill] skiing, especially if you get to do it well enough so it’s second nature, the sheer physical joy, and the camaraderie of it, I couldn’t stay away any longer,’’ he said.

In the Colorado Rockies, one of the most famous ski bums near the Arapahoe Basin area was also reunited with skiing after a 61-day separation caused by jail time for, according to him, sticking to his principles.

Since the ’70s, Charlie Toups, 63, has lived in his truck in a parking lot near Loveland Pass, from which Toups could easily access the high country.

Untouched by developers and beloved by locals for its rugged purity, Arapahoe draws lots of ski bums like Toups, but he remains unique. He worked odd jobs like shoveling snow to make enough money for skiing. But after making a run last fall, Toups was greeted at the base by a Forest Service agent and was arrested for failure to pay off a number of parking tickets and possessing marijuana, and was jailed.

“I’ve lived this life for 33 years,’’ Toups told a reporter, “and now I’m supposed to admit I’m guilty? I can’t do that. I don’t know what changed after the Forest Service tolerated me for all these years. I thought we were just respecting each other.’’

Two weeks ago, Toups was freed on two conditions – that he obey laws regarding camping on federal lands, and that he admit his guilt.

“He never was a danger to anyone,’’ said Kathryn Stimson, the public defender assigned to Toups’s case. “He’s just a skier, and he’s a really great guy. It’s a shame this resolution wasn’t reached the day he was arrested so he didn’t have to spend half the ski season in jail.’’

As his story circulated, Charlie Toups became the center of an enormous outcry, with thousands offering support to a colorful relic of a fading era.

When people would come to interview him in his jail cell, Toups would often end the conversation with a plaintive change of subject befitting his lifelong devotion.

“Just let me ask you one thing,’’ Toups would say. “Is it snowing?’’ 

This has been a long time coming…  Salomon Freeski TV, I need to have a few words with you.

Listen, I respect what you do — and as I’ve said repeatedly, I’m very, very jealous.  Sure, some of the stuff you do drives me crazy (i.e., Abma’s mindless quotes, Douglas’ creepy voiceovers, over glorification of your accomplishments, etc.) but I’ve tried hard to keep my mouth shut.  Hell, I never said anything when you posted this five months after we posted this (we’re still talking to our lawyers about that, something definitely smells fishy…).

But your most recent episode pushed me over the top.  First, you take a bunch of bro-brahs down to Chile to ski inside a volcano, like I’ve never thought about doing that.  Then, instead of flying there in a heli like you normally do (spoiled pricks), you decide to venture into the wilderness on horseback.  Safe to say it’s not exactly a secret that one of my life goals is to be an “adequate horseman.”  What’s next — is that handsome horse named Zodiac?  That’s when I realized, I’m singlehandedly responsible for every sweet episode you’ve put out this year (I believe there have been three).  Somehow, and this is the part I’m still figuring out, Douglas and Co have figured out a way to hack into my dreams and rummage through the bizillions of radically awesome ideas that call my head home.

So what am I doing about it?  Aside from not sleeping, I’ve constructed a tinfoil fort above my bed — reminiscent of a NASA-style whack shack — where no mind reading powder skiing gypsy can pillage my inner most thoughts.  We’ll know next Tuesday if it has worked…

Until then, check out the totally sweet trip I had been planning on taking for, like, ever…

Throughout the past several days Cottonwoods has been hit with consecutive dumps and it is not showing signs of quiting.  This is a good thing considering the snowfall totals for January are about 200” behind where they were at this time last year.

http://www.wrh.noaa.gov/slc/snow/mtnwx/mtnForecast.php

And now a brief synopsis on how we have felt about the weather as of late:

The first two weeks of January, and pretty much all of December for that matter brought not much more to the SHC than drunken expeditions to PC and arguments about who had the sicker tall hat ( Nute won, his shit’s like 10 inches high).  And of course the daily trip to the bird to work on our GS turns, I think my GS may be more dialed in right now than it ever was during my 15 year racing career.  That being said it is safe to say that the general morale of the crew was reaching dark places, really dark, like “Hey, go fuck yourself, so what I moved to Salt Lake to ski and there’s no snow, I enjoy the culture too” dark.  Whatever, thankfully mother nature threw us a bone and its been blower overhead pretty much all week.  Now we can bask in our newly gained stoke and look forward to a potentially epic late January.  I just wish ‘ol two steps was here to enjoy it with us.

Also, anyone should feel free to submit photos and stories about storms in your neck of the woods, where ever the hell you are.

Jay R. Fitzgerald

Henrik Windstedt, the back story.  Check out a great interview with the Swedish mountain man.

Windstedt teaser vid below…

If you read a ski magazine last year than you’re familiar with the North Face ad of Sage [COWBOY!] on a seemingly vertical wall of spines.  TGR just put up the video behind that shot, and it’s super [COWBOY!] impressive.  Watching Seth and Sage climb out at the top of that [COWBOY!] ridge provides a nice little tightening in the nether regions…

The terrain is really [COWBOY!] gnarly, so Sage has to billy-goat [COWBOY!] down it a bit; looking at the ad I’d always wondered how he exited, this now shows us (and shows how fast he exits).  Very cool [COWBOY] video.