It’s over. Or close enough. A handful of resorts are still spinning lifts on a prayer and a north-facing pitch, but for most of us the season ended a few weeks ago, whether we were ready or not.

That post-season feeling is its own thing. Part relief, part grief, part already-thinking-about-next-year. If you’re in that headspace right now, here’s how to close out the season like someone who’s done this a few times.

1. Tune and store your board the right way. Don’t lean it against the garage wall and walk away. A proper end-of-season hot wax seals the base and keeps it from oxidizing over a Utah summer. A lot of shops run storage tune specials right now when they’re not slammed. Get it done while it’s still on your mind.

2. Assess your gear honestly. That binding that was “probably fine” all season. The boot liner that’s been packed out since January. Now is the time to be real with yourself. Buying in the offseason means actual selection, not whatever’s left on the rack in November when everyone else woke up at the same time.

3. Lock in next year’s pass before prices go up. Ikon and Epic early renewal windows are either open or opening soon. This is the lowest price you will pay, full stop. The people complaining about pass prices in October are the people who didn’t buy in April.

4. Book early-season trips now. If you’re the type to chase turns in November, accommodations near Mammoth, Keystone, or Loveland are bookable now at prices that won’t exist come fall. And if you want to go full lifer about it, both Chile and New Zealand open in June. Valle Nevado and Cardrona are calling.

5. Write down what actually mattered this season. Best days. Worst gear decisions. Runs you want to hit again. It sounds unnecessary now but it’s genuinely useful when you’re staring at gear pages in August trying to remember why you were so done with your setup. Future you will appreciate the two minutes it takes.

The offseason is already underway. Might as well make it count.

Three weeks in April, and the snowboard industry quietly went sideways.

Not sideways like a laid-out heel-side carve. More like a wobble you don’t notice until you’re already going down. In the span of a few weeks, the world’s largest snowboard company lost its CEO, the last major board factory in America changed hands again, and a beloved brand’s parent company continued its slow-motion identity crisis in plain sight. If you only read about snowboarding to find out what gear to buy next season, you might have missed all of it. You shouldn’t have.

Here’s the rundown.

John Lacy Is Out at Burton

After nearly 29 years with the company, Burton CEO John Lacy is leaving. He started in 1997 answering phones in rider services, worked his way through product development and global sales, became president in 2015, and stepped into the solo CEO role in February 2020, just months after Jake Burton Carpenter died. He ran the company through a pandemic, a gear-buying boom, the inevitable hangover that followed, and everything in between. Now Donna Carpenter, widow of Burton’s founder and chairman of the board, is stepping back in as interim CEO while the company searches for a permanent replacement.

The official word from Burlington is that this is a mutual decision, a planned leadership transition, not a response to business performance. And maybe that’s true. Burton is a private company, so the actual financials stay close to the vest. What’s publicly known is that 2023 sales were expected to top $352 million and the brand controls an estimated half the market share in snowboarding worldwide. That’s not a company in freefall.

But context matters. Lacy took over under the shadow of Jake’s death, navigated one of the most disruptive stretches in the outdoor industry’s recent history, and now exits without a named successor. The search is on. Donna holds the wheel in the meantime, which is not nothing. She’s been deeply embedded in this company for decades, and Burlington knows her. Still, a CEO transition at the world’s dominant snowboard brand is not a small thing, and the question of who comes next and from where will say a lot about where Burton thinks it’s going.

Mervin Gets a New Owner. Again.

On April 10th, Mervin Manufacturing, the Sequim, Washington maker of Lib Tech, GNU, and Bent Metal, announced it had been acquired by Spring Capital Group, a private investment firm based in Eugene, Oregon. Altamont Capital, which bought Mervin out of the wreckage of Quiksilver back in 2013, has exited.

For those keeping score, this is ownership change number three since Mervin’s founders Mike Olson and Pete Saari built the place. Quiksilver, then Altamont, now Spring Capital.

The new owners make a point of not being traditional private equity. Spring Capital describes itself as “a private investment group started by two brothers and a partner who are still in the business,” Shop Eat Surf Outdoor and their pitch is “patient capital.” Their portfolio includes BlackStrap, UBCO Electric Bikes, New Seasons Market, and Elmer’s Restaurants, which is an eclectic mix, but also suggests they’re not in the habit of flipping assets for a quick return. Mervin CEO Anthony DeRocco stays in place, the existing leadership team stays in place, and the factory in Sequim, still the longest-running snowboard factory in America and one of the last making boards on domestic soil, stays in Sequim.

The “business as usual” line is the same one Mervin put out when Altamont bought them in 2013. And to be fair, that turned out to be mostly true. The brands kept their identities. The factory kept running. But the fact that Mike Olson and Pete Saari’s company is on its third set of private equity owners is its own story. Mervin has always represented something specific to the snowboard world: independent, weird, technically ambitious, made in America. Those things can survive ownership changes. They can also quietly erode under enough of them.

GNU co-founder Pete Saari recently acknowledged in a trade publication that the market felt like it was “still recovering from a post-Covid extended hangover and challenged snow years.” Boardsport SOURCE That’s the environment Mervin just navigated under Altamont. Whether Spring Capital brings the runway the brand needs to come out the other side is genuinely unknown. The optimistic read is that a patient, long-term investor with regional ties is exactly what Mervin needs. The skeptical read is that every private owner of Mervin has said roughly the same things at the press release stage.

The Arbor Situation Is Complicated

This one is the least definitive of the three, but the rumblings are real. Arbor itself, the snowboard brand, is not in obvious distress. New GM Matt Patti came aboard in early 2024, the company has been hiring aggressively across sales, marketing, and product, and the 25/26 line is solid. Patti told trade press that the brand’s financials are “not bad today” while acknowledging there are significant untapped opportunities in DTC and international distribution.

The more interesting story is at the parent company level. Arbor is owned by Kent Outdoors, a Park City, Utah-based platform backed by private equity firm Seawall Capital. And Kent Outdoors has had a busy, unsettled couple of years. They moved their headquarters from Ohio to Utah in late 2023, brought in a new CFO in April 2024, secured a $100 million credit facility from Eclipse Business Capital around the same time, and brought in a new CEO, Randy Hales, shortly after. They also sold off the Kona Bicycles brand following a strategic review.

That’s a lot of change at the top of a company that also happens to own your snowboard brand. A new credit facility and a leadership overhaul can mean a company is getting its house in order for growth, or it can mean the house needed some serious work. Both things can be true at the same time. What’s notable is that while Arbor the brand is pressing forward with genuine investment in people and product, the corporate structure around it is clearly in flux. The relationship is described publicly as Arbor “managed by agreement with the Arbor Collective,” which has always been the somewhat unusual arrangement. How that agreement holds up through parent company transitions is worth watching.

What It All Means

Zoom out and these three stories point to something larger. Snowboarding is not immune to the same forces grinding on every other specialty industry right now. Post-pandemic inventory corrections, rising lift ticket costs suppressing participation, compressed retail margins, and the ongoing pressure of warming winters have made the board business harder than it looked during 2021 when everyone bought a snowboard in a panic. The brands still standing are either big enough to absorb the hits, independent enough to stay nimble, or lucky enough to have the right ownership at the right time.

Burton’s transition is significant because Burton is not just a company. It is the market. Whoever eventually takes the CEO chair there sets a tone for the whole industry. Mervin’s sale is significant because Lib Tech and GNU have always been an ideological counterweight to the corporate end of snowboarding, and every new private equity layer makes that position harder to hold. And Arbor’s situation is a reminder that a brand can be doing everything right at the product level while the financial scaffolding around it quietly shifts.

None of this is necessarily bad news. Business is business, and companies get bought and sold. But snowboarding has always had a particular allergy to the feeling that the people running things don’t actually ride, don’t actually care, and are just here for the exit. Right now, a lot of the people running things are in transition. That’s worth paying attention to.

The Last Word

The best outcome in all three of these scenarios is that the riding stays good. That the boards stay innovative, the brands stay weird in the right ways, and the people who actually built these companies still have a voice in how they’re run. That’s not guaranteed. It rarely is. But it’s worth saying out loud, and it’s worth asking about, because the snowboard industry doesn’t get to be what it is without the culture that built it. That’s not something you can acquire in a term sheet.

If you’ve been paying attention to snowboarding for any stretch of time, you know John Jackson. “John J” has been one of the sport’s most respected names for the better part of two decades, with a film catalog that reads like a greatest hits list: early breakout parts in “Hifi” and “The Empire,” iconic work with Standard Films and Brain Farm, plus “That’s It, That’s All” and “The Art of Flight” cementing his place in the upper tier of snowboarding’s all-time greats. More recently, the Red Bull series “The Book of John J” offered a more personal look at the man behind the riding. He lives in Verdi, Nevada, with his family, and he’s still very much out there chasing it.

So when Gordini announced this week that John J has joined their athlete roster, it makes sense on every level. Vermont-based and independently owned since 1956, Gordini has quietly built a reputation for serious handwear and performance socks without a lot of noise. They’re not the loudest brand in the room, but riders who’ve spent time in their gloves tend to stick with them.

John J currently runs three Gordini pieces, and they’re worth knowing about.

Gordini Polar Glove

The Polar is Gordini’s coldest-day weapon. Built around 700-fill DownTek insulation on the back of hand, Megaloft synthetic in the palm, a goatskin leather grip, and an extended gauntlet cuff with drawcord closure. AquaBloc waterproof/windproof insert keeps things dry when the weather gets nasty. This is a proper big-mountain glove.

MSRP: $142.99 | gordini.com

Gordini Front Line Midi Glove

The Midi is the versatile layer you reach for when you don’t need a full gauntlet but still want real warmth. Primaloft 100g insulation, 4-way stretch softshell, and a Kevlar palm that actually holds up. Works as a standalone on cold-but-manageable days, or layers under a shell mitt when conditions turn. Packable and low-profile.

MSRP: $60.99 | gordini.com

Gordini PYCO Sock

The PYCO is an ultralight, over-the-calf ski sock designed to perform without bulk. For a brand that’s been at the sock game long enough to win an ISPO award for their Winhall construction, the PYCO is a solid pick for riders who want a thin, precision fit inside a stiff boot.

MSRP: $27.99 | gordini.com

The Last Word

Gordini adding John Jackson to their team roster alongside Julian Carr, Delilah Cupp, and Michael “Bird” Shaffer signals something intentional. This isn’t a brand throwing money at a big name for visibility. It’s a brand that makes serious handwear pairing with a rider who takes the mountains seriously. Fits.

Spring contest season just delivered its two most culturally vital events of the year, and the takeaway couldn’t be clearer: the snowboard world doesn’t need a stadium, a massive title sponsor, or a broadcast deal to throw an unforgettable party. It just needs riders who care, mountains that deliver, and a crew willing to show up for each other. From Vermont’s rich heritage roots to Utah’s raw, send-it energy, Homesick at Stratton and the Bomb Hole Cup at Brighton reminded everyone why grassroots events remain the beating heart of snowboarding.

Homesick at Stratton Mountain, Vermont (March 20–22, 2026)

East Street Archives and Stratton Mountain teamed up for the fourth annual Homesick festival, cementing its place as the East Coast’s premier celebration of snowboard culture. Founders Gary Land — legendary photographer — and Barry Dugan built something authentic that riders actually look forward to, rather than something manufactured for clout.

The three-day on-hill program united legends, current pros, up-and-comers, and everyday shredders across every age and ability:

• Friday, March 20 – Planet Zebulon Rail Jam (Lower Suntanner): Hosted by Zeb Powell (Stratton Mountain School alum and one of snowboarding’s most creative forces), this event featured expanded pro men’s and women’s divisions alongside open and grom categories.

• Saturday, March 21 – Powers Retro Pipe (East Byrneside): Olympic gold medalist Ross Powers returned to help judge on a throwback halfpipe carved by Stratton’s Parks crew on a slope that hadn’t seen one in decades. The session perfectly blended early-2000s nostalgia with modern progression.

• Sunday, March 22 – OG Downhill (Suntanner): The weekend closed with head-to-head dual slalom racing straight out of snowboarding’s raw origins. This year introduced a dedicated adaptive athlete division — a long-overdue and widely praised addition.

Off the hill, Homesick’s cultural programming was just as strong. Pioneer rider and artist Jamie Lynn made a major appearance, teaming with his 1910 brand (co-founded with artist Schoph) for the 1910 Print Show at the Burton Store in Stratton Village. The exhibit featured collaborative limited-edition prints, graphics, and apparel that beautifully captured snowboarding’s artistic heritage. It fit seamlessly alongside the Dawning Exhibit, Vintage Board Room, book signings, live music, and endless community hangs. Jamie Lynn’s presence alongside figures like Shannon Dunn, Ross Powers, and Zeb Powell created an atmosphere thick with legacy and inspiration — proving snowboarding culture isn’t a side attraction; it is the main event.

The Bomb Hole Cup at Brighton Resort, Utah (March 28–29, 2026)

Out West, the fifth annual Bomb Hole Cup proved that low snow can’t kill good vibes when the community steps up. Brighton’s park crew and the Bomb Hole team built two ripping snake runs despite lean conditions, and the energy never dipped.

Day One – March 28: Banked Slalom + Splitboard Race
A massive, inclusive field of riders, groms to veterans, pros to adaptive athletes, snowskaters to vintage setups, attacked two berm-filled courses.

Pro Banked Slalom Results:

• Pro Men: 1st Grey Katko (fastest run of the day at 23.75 seconds), 2nd Hunter Goulet, 3rd Sawyer Reivich.

• Pro Women: 1st Freya Hammerlein (25.075 seconds), 2nd Emily O’Connor, 3rd Mela Stalker.

Notable Winners:

• Splitboard Race: Shane Campbell (his third consecutive victory). Standouts also included Noah Gates (Super Grom Boys), Airish George (Grom Girls), and Jason Walker (Adaptive).

Day Two – March 29: Park Showdown (Freestyle/Slopestyle)
The event flipped to pure creative chaos on Brighton’s park features. Pros opened with mandatory 900s, then unleashed all-out attacks on rails, boxes, jumps, and the infamous limo launch. The format rewarded style, progression, and big energy.

Overall Bomb Hole Cup Champions (combined performance):

• Pro Men: Grey Katko

• Pro Women: Mela Stalker

Grey and Mela’s dominance across both natural terrain racing and technical park riding made them clear, well-deserved weekend warriors.

The Last Word

Two mountains. Two completely different vibes. One undeniable truth.

Homesick honored snowboarding’s East Coast soul by bringing icons like Jamie Lynn and 1910 into the fold while growing organically. The Bomb Hole Cup kept it raw, ridiculously fun, and deeply inclusive despite thin snow. Neither chased mainstream approval. Both were built by riders, for riders — with community as the core principle, not a marketing angle.

These are the events worth showing up for: the ones that look and feel like snowboarding actually looks. Two down, both absolute bangers. The community is alive and thriving.

See you at the next one.

We’re thinking about launching a quarterly digital mini-zine — a proper PDF, designed and curated, landing in your inbox four times a year. Gear deep-dives, cultural takes, photography, the kind of content that deserves more than a scroll-and-forget feed.

The ask would be $5 a month for paid subscribers. That’s it.

But before we put the work in, we want to know if it’s worth it to you.

Drop your vote and feel free to leave a comment. Your honest take shapes what we build next.

There’s a specific type of person who walks into the coffee shop after a morning session and looks like they actually belong in a mountain town. Not the resort tourist in rental gear, and not the guy who overdressed for après. Just someone who looks like they live there, move around in whatever weather shows up, and don’t spend a lot of time worrying about it.

That’s the look. And it’s harder to pull off than it seems.

Mountain streetwear in places like Park City, Telluride, and Crested Butte has always carried a working-town undertone. A little utilitarian, a little worn in, nothing too precious. The people who actually shred for a living don’t walk around in technical outerwear 24/7, but they don’t exactly swap into khakis either. There’s a middle ground that acknowledges the environment without advertising it.

SPC/LST, out of California, gets this right. The Encounter_01J ($365) is a British Millerain® waxed bomber with Primaloft® insulation and YKK® Excella zippers. It looks like something a working man in 1965 would have worn, except it’s warm, weather-resistant, and machine-washable. The boxy drop-shoulder fit works over a sweater or flannel equally well. If you want something lighter and slightly more streamlined, the Cognis ($275) is a Cordura® crinkle insulated jacket with a military-pocket vibe that pairs just as naturally with the Civilian pant ($110) - a stretch twill chino cut from organic cotton and recycled Repreve® that travels clean and moves freely. SPC/LST makes everything in the USA with a lifetime warranty, which is a statement most brands aren’t willing to make.

Finisterre is a UK-based brand primarily known in the surf world, but their approach to cold-weather technical clothing translates directly to mountain life. The Firecrest Jacket in Deep Sea ($205) is a lightweight recycled poly insulated layer that sits under a shell or stands alone on a mild afternoon. The Barents Sweater in Pecan ($160) is a proper wool knit that looks right in a bar or on a chairlift. The Bolster Full Zip Fleece in Buckwheat/Navy ($180) rounds out the layering system with a recycled-poly construction and a colorway that doesn’t scream anything in particular. All three have a salt-air, weather-beaten aesthetic that reads as understated even when it’s doing a lot of work.

For Reals: Every serious snowboarder has a bag problem. The Brown Buffalo Duffalo ($295+) is a 50L duffle built from Cordura® 1050D ballistic nylon with full-grain leather handles, a butterfly-style opening, and a dedicated shoe compartment that fits boots or dirty kit. It’s a gear bag that doesn’t embarrass you at the airport. Pair it with the Concealsling ($155+) for daily carry - a compact 2.8L cross-body in the same materials, tight enough to not bounce around, organized enough to actually be useful.

And then there’s the pop. The Party Shirt International Surf Southwest Stretch Tech ($59) is a four-way stretch, moisture-wicking button-up with a print that reads somewhere between desert and lineup. It’s not a snowboard brand making a party shirt. It’s a party shirt company making something you can actually move in. Worn open over a tee at the right spot, it’s the only piece in this lineup that announces itself.

The Last Word

Mountain town style isn’t about trying to look like you ride. It’s about looking like you do, whether you’re on the hill or not. These brands understand the assignment.

Back in August, we laid out the case for why letting kids ride free isn’t just good PR, it’s the only real play the industry has if it wants a future. The argument was simple: cost is the single biggest barrier to getting young people on snow, and if resorts actually care about growing the sport, they need to act like it. We called it a disruptive campaign to reignite the soul of winter sports. You can read that piece here.

Well, somebody was listening.

Mont du Lac Resort, sitting right on the St. Louis River in Superior, Wisconsin, just announced that starting with the 2026/27 winter season, every skier and snowboarder 15 and under rides free. No asterisks. Free season passes, free lift tickets, for all youth in that age group. The resort expects to open the door for more than 1,500 youth during the coming season alone. That’s not a marketing stunt, that’s a genuine commitment to pipeline development, and it deserves recognition.

Now, MDL isn’t Whistler. The resort runs 11 scenic runs and a terrain park with over 20 rotating features, situated right along the St. Louis River near the Minnesota border. It’s a family mountain in the truest sense, the kind of place where someone gets their first chairlift ride, links their first turns, discovers that snowboarding is actually the greatest thing on earth. Those hills matter, probably more than the big-ticket destination resorts ever will, because that’s where the next generation actually starts.

The economics of snowboarding participation have been broken for years. Lift tickets at major resorts have spiraled to the point where a family day on the mountain competes with a car payment. The sport has quietly been pricing out exactly the demographic it needs most, kids. MDL is cutting through that noise with a policy that’s hard to argue with.

The program is expected to become one of the most accessible youth ski programs in the Midwest. For a region with a deep, cold-weather culture and no shortage of stoke, that’s a meaningful distinction.

The question now is whether other resorts are paying attention. A regional hill in Wisconsin just raised the bar. What’s the excuse for everyone else?

The Last Word

Programs like this don’t just fill chairs on slow Tuesday nights, they build riders for life. Every kid who gets their first real season on snow without their parents having to sweat the ticket cost is a potential lifer, a future gear buyer, a season pass holder, a person who passes it on to their own kids someday. MDL gets it. The sport needs more of this energy, and it needs it fast.

Full disclosure upfront: this isn’t a lap or two around the block take. I’ve been riding the Jones Howler and Mercury FASE bindings all season at Park City Mountain Resort, in everything from early corduroy to wind crust to the powder days the Wasatch actually delivered this winter. So here’s where things actually land after some real mileage.

The Howler

The Howler is a new model for ‘26, a directional freeride board designed in collaboration with Victor de Le Rue and Elena Hight, and it shows. This thing was built with serious terrain in mind, but the design stops short of being a dedicated freeride sled. It’s got a blunted, minimally tapered shape that keeps switch riding honest, and a high full-camber profile that gives the tail real authority at takeoff and genuine stability on landing. The mid-stiff flex (think a 4 out of 5) is in that sweet spot where the board doesn’t feel locked up but will absolutely hold an edge when you ask it to.

What’s notable is how well it actually carves for a directional shape. The thing rips a clean turn on hardpack and groomers without feeling twitchy or demanding. The construction deserves some credit here: Koroyd in the nose section kills swing weight and keeps the front end from getting wobbly in variable snow, while Bcomp Carbon/Flax stringers under the bindings suck up chatter and add the kind of torsional stiffness you want when the mountain gets sketchy. The core is a triple-density bamboo, paulownia, and poplar mix that keeps the board lively without making it nervous.

The tapered directional shape means the nose has more real estate than the tail, which is the right call for float, but the tail is still kicked up enough that riding switch is a non-issue. This is genuinely a quiver-killer for the rider who wants one board to handle all-mountain duty, park laps, and the occasional steeper excursion. Jones built it to be ridden shorter than a traditional freeride board, too, which gives it an agility you wouldn’t expect from a board with this kind of stability at speed.

MSRP: $699.95 | jonessnowboards.com

Mercury FASE

The FASE system is Jones’ answer to a question the industry has been fussing over for a while: how do you get the locked-in feel and performance of a traditional two-strap binding without the chairlift shuffle and morning-cold fingers struggling with ratchets? Their answer is the FASE Fast Entry System, and it’s a legitimately clever piece of engineering rather than a gimmick.

Here’s the honest truth though: there’s a break-in period. Out of the box, the entry and exit feels a bit stiff and deliberate. It takes a few sessions before the mechanism loosens up and the whole slide-in, snap-down motion starts to feel as quick and natural as Jones promises. Once it clicks, though, it actually does what they say. Getting off the lift and dropping in without stopping to strap your rear foot is one of those small quality-of-life things that you don’t fully appreciate until you go back to a traditional binding and realize you’ve been wasting time for years.

Performance-wise, the Mercury FASE is a solid all-mountain binding. Medium-stiff flex (4/5), asymmetrical AsymFlex highback that gives you edge drive on hard carves but enough give to tweak a grab without feeling like you’re fighting the setup. The Fusion XR baseplate sits low-profile and has a natural flex underfoot that doesn’t kill the board feel. The DualFlex ankle strap is one of the better ones out there, stiff enough in the core for responsiveness, softer at the edges for all-day comfort. Weight comes in at 895 grams for a medium, right in line with other premium two-straps.

The universal mount disc works with 4x4, 2x4, and channel setups, so it pairs with anything. The FASE system itself comes with a lifetime warranty.

MSRP: $369.95 | jonessnowboards.com

The Last Word

Paired together, the Howler and Mercury FASE make a genuinely capable all-mountain setup. The Howler is confident enough to point it somewhere serious but forgiving enough that you’re not fighting it when the terrain gets casual. The FASE bindings reward patience out of the box; put in a few days and you’ll wonder why strap-in systems took this long to evolve. Both pieces are built with real material and construction thoughtfulness, not just marketing copy, which matters when you’re evaluating gear from behind thirty-plus years of industry experience rather than a press release.

Milan-Cortina 2026 is in the books, and depending on which slope you were watching, you either witnessed snowboarding at its most compelling or a soap opera masquerading as a ski competition.

Let’s start with the mess. Freestyle skier Hunter Hess kicked things off by announcing to a press conference that representing the United States gave him “mixed emotions.” The resulting firestorm consumed the opening days of the Games, triggered a presidential broadside on Truth Social, and turned Hess’s family into targets of harassment and death threats. To his credit, Hess qualified and competed. But the self-inflicted wound was hard to watch. You want to make a political statement? Fine. But maybe not at the opening press conference of the most-watched Winter Games in a decade, when your job is to go ski a halfpipe.

Then there was Eileen Gu. Born in San Francisco, raised in America, educated at Stanford, and competing once again under the Chinese flag. The Wall Street Journal reported that the Beijing Municipal Sports Bureau paid her and fellow American-born-turned-Chinese-athlete Zhu Yi a combined $6.6 million in 2025 alone to qualify for these Games. Gu finished with two silvers and a halfpipe gold, became the most decorated female freeskier in Olympic history, and managed to avoid answering a single question about human rights in China. She said she hadn’t done the research. You either buy that or you don’t.

Meanwhile, over on the snowboard side of Livigno Snow Park, the riders did what snowboarders do: they put their heads down and rode.

Chloe Kim showed up with a torn labrum, won silver in the halfpipe, and pulled 17-year-old Gaon Choi in for a hug after the Korean phenom dethroned her. Jake Canter threw a double underflip and a massive backside 1980 on his final run to bronze in men’s slopestyle when it counted. Japan dominated the park and pipe in a way that was impossible not to respect. And through all of it, there was no controversy, no press conference theater, no distractions. Just snowboarding.

The cherry on top came from the ice. The USA men’s hockey team won their first gold since the 1980 Miracle on Ice, with Jack Hughes burying the overtime winner against Canada in a game that Connor Hellebuyck essentially won by himself with 41 saves. And the women backed it up, going undefeated through the entire tournament, with Hilary Knight tying it in the final minutes and Megan Keller ending it in overtime. A clean double gold in hockey felt like the right punctuation mark for an American team that just wanted to compete, not perform.

The Olympics are done. The FIS circus has packed up its judging panels and subjective scoring and headed home. Now it’s just snowboarding again: Natural Selection, banked slaloms, the Bomb Hole Cup, and the season still running hot through spring. No politics. No press conference theater. No flags of convenience.

That’s the sport we signed up for. Go shred!

Back in January, I wrote The Olympic Illusion, arguing that the Olympics had never fully figured out what to do with snowboarding. That the sport’s biggest stage was still, after nearly three decades of Olympic competition, fundamentally broken. Two weeks into Milano Cortina 2026, I wish I had been wrong.

I wasn’t.

Across every judged snowboarding discipline at these Games, something went sideways. Not once, not in a single controversial call that could be dismissed as a fluke. Over and over, across halfpipe, slopestyle, big air, and snowboard cross, the judging either sparked outrage, defied logic, or raised questions the sport has been unable to answer since the day FIS took over the program in 1998. The thread connecting all of it isn’t bad luck. It’s a broken system that nobody in power has the will to actually fix.

Let’s go event by event.

Snowboard Cross: The Call That Broke the Internet

If you only followed one moment of Olympic snowboarding this cycle, it was probably Nathan Pare.

The 21-year-old American from Maine was in his Olympic debut, and he ran one of the great quarterfinal comebacks in snowboard cross history. Dead last coming out of the start, Pare fought his way forward, got tangled briefly with Spain’s Lucas Eguibar on a turn, and then launched off the final jump to cross the line in first place. The kid thought he had won. NBC cameras caught his pure, unfiltered joy. And then the judges reviewed the footage and handed him a red card, ruling the contact with Eguibar “intentional.”

“That’s insane,” Pare told a nearby judge, and you could hear every bit of it on the broadcast.

It was insane. The NBC broadcast team said it didn’t look intentional. The contact was the back of Pare’s board clipping the front of Eguibar’s as he squeezed through a turn, moving from fourth to third, already ahead in the corner. The rule book in snowboard cross defines interference across three categories: intentional, involuntary, and incidental. Only intentional contact triggers a red card and disqualification. Involuntary and incidental result in a yellow card at most. The jury looked at the same footage the rest of the world saw and saw intentionality where almost no one else did.

What made it worse was what happened next. Two French snowboarders, Jonas Chollet and Loan Bozzolo, advanced to the semifinals in Pare’s place. Eguibar, who had every right to be frustrated, defended the ruling. But even his defense made the sport’s problem clear. “The rule is really clear,” he said. And maybe it is, written down. The problem is that “intentional” is a judgment call, and judgment calls at the Olympics carry enormous stakes. One jury’s reading of “intentional” cost a 21-year-old his shot at an Olympic medal in his first Games.

This is what happens when the adjudication of human intent is treated as a straightforward factual matter.

Women’s Halfpipe: When the Hardest Trick Loses

Chloe Kim landed a double cork 1080.

For those who don’t ride halfpipe, here’s the context: the double cork 1080 is the hardest trick in women’s halfpipe. Kim put it down on her first run and scored an 88. South Korea’s Gaon Choi, who did not attempt that trick, won gold with a 90.25. Japan’s Mitsuki Ono took bronze.

Kim got silver. She was gracious about it. She congratulated Choi and said nothing publicly about the judging. Which is exactly what you’d expect from Kim, who understands the sport’s culture better than most. But the quiet debate that followed her run was anything but quiet online, and it pointed at something real.

The halfpipe scoring system doesn’t reward individual tricks with point values. Judges assess the entire run as a package using criteria that include difficulty, amplitude, variety, execution, and progression, then assign a single number from 1 to 100 based on an “overall impression.” Those judges eliminated the high and low scores, averaged what remained, and arrived at 90.25 for Choi, who posted bigger amplitude on her best hits, around eight inches higher than Kim’s peak air.

So who was right? That’s genuinely debatable, and that’s precisely the problem.

When a scoring system produces outcomes where the athlete who lands the most technically demanding trick in her discipline loses to someone who didn’t attempt it, the sport cannot clearly defend its own results. Not because Choi didn’t deserve the gold, she may well have, but because the framework for explaining why has so much room for interpretation that it invites lasting skepticism. Amplitude vs. difficulty. Overall impression vs. trick hierarchy. The sport has been arguing about this for 30 years and has never landed on an answer that sticks.

Kim never said a word about it. That kind of grace is part of snowboarding’s culture. But silence shouldn’t be confused with the problem not existing.

Men’s Snowboard Slopestyle: When Qualifying Means Nothing

If the Pare DQ was the moment that broke the internet, the men’s snowboard slopestyle final on Wednesday was the moment that broke the sport’s own internal logic.

Here’s what happened in Livigno: New Zealand’s Dane Menzies led qualifying with an 86.06. Norway’s Marcus Kleveland, two-time world champion, was second at 81.86. Canada’s Mark McMorris, the most decorated slopestyle rider in Olympic history with three consecutive bronzes, qualified third at 81.81. Those were your three favorites going into the final.

None of them medaled.

China’s Su Yiming, who qualified eighth with a 72.78, won gold with an 82.41 on his opening run. Japan’s Taiga Hasegawa, who also qualified outside the top five, took silver with 82.13. Jake Canter of the United States, the ninth qualifier, claimed bronze with a 79.36 on his final run. The 8th, 9th, and 10th place qualifiers finished 1st, 2nd, and 3rd in the final, in exactly that order. The top three qualifiers went 7th, 4th, and 8th respectively.

That kind of qualifying-to-final inversion doesn’t happen in well-designed systems. It happens when the judging is so volatile that the numbers in one round have almost no predictive relationship to the numbers in the next.

The score compression in the middle of the final standings told an equally troubling story. The riders who finished 5th through 10th, names including Red Gerard, Romain Allemand, Dane Menzies, McMorris, and 17-year-old Ollie Martin, were separated by less than two points. Gerard finished 6th with 76.60. McMorris finished 8th with 75.50. Cameron Spalding was 10th with 75.13. Over a point and a half separated six of the best slopestyle snowboarders alive. At that margin, a single judge’s read of how clean a tail grab looked can change the leaderboard by three positions.

The cruelest moment went to Kleveland. A two-time world champion who had never managed an Olympic medal in three attempts, he put down what riders and commentators acknowledged was a serious final run, a Cab butter 1620 and double Todeo 1080 combo that looked like podium material. Then he waited. The scoring took what felt like an eternity. When it finally came back, he had 78.96. He missed bronze by 0.40 points.

Marcus Kleveland, one of the most technically creative riders of his generation, left his third Olympics without a medal because of less than half a point in a scoring system that can’t explain its own decimals.

McMorris was equally philosophical about it. Still recovering from a concussion, pelvic bone bruising, and strained abdominal muscles after a crash in Big Air training earlier in these Games, he put together clean runs and still couldn’t find the scoreboard. “I’m proud just to have made another final,” he said. There was no spin in it. Just a legend who understands better than most that the judging at the Olympics is not a reliable translator of what actually happens on the mountain.

Su’s win, for what it’s worth, has an almost poetic dimension to it. At the 2022 Beijing Games, he was widely considered to have been robbed of slopestyle gold when judges missed a glaring error by gold medalist Max Parrot, failing to catch a missed grab that the head judge later admitted cost Su the top spot. Su went on to win Big Air gold that week and left Beijing with two medals, but the slopestyle injustice stuck. Four years later, he came back and won it cleanly. The judging finally got one right for him, at least.

But the 2026 final as a whole was hard to defend. Winning scores hovering in the low 80s while the field collapsed around a punishing course with undersized jumps, scores ranging from 82 down to 75 across the bottom half of a twelve-man Olympic final, and the complete irrelevance of qualifying performance to final outcomes. The system didn’t malfunction in a single moment here. It just consistently failed to tell a coherent story about who rode best.

The Systemic Issue That Nobody Wants to Name

Here is the thing I want you to understand: none of what happened in Livigno this February is new.

At Beijing 2022, judges admitted they had made a mistake in a slopestyle event after a television replay showed a rider failing to complete a grab that had already been credited in the score. The admission was remarkable in its honesty. It was also remarkable because it confirmed what riders, coaches, and anyone who has watched competitive snowboarding for more than a few seasons already knew: the judges are working with incomplete information in real time, making irreversible calls on tricks that happen in fractions of a second at 50 miles per hour.

In halfpipe, slopestyle, and big air, the judging framework is built on something called “overall impression.” The acronym coaches use is DAVE-P: difficulty, amplitude, variety, execution, and progression. But here’s the honest truth about DAVE-P. Those five criteria aren’t weighted against each other with any transparency. There’s no formula. There’s no published rubric that tells you how much more a triple cork outweighs perfect amplitude, or whether variety trumps execution when a rider goes for broke. It’s gestalt scoring, which is another way of saying it’s a feeling, and feelings at the Olympics have consequences.

The men’s slopestyle and big air events here were no different. Riders who spent years designing run strategies around what they thought judges wanted still walked away uncertain whether their reads were correct. The halfpipe men’s final produced its own debates about whether the panel was rewarding height or trick complexity. Big air, which reduces the equation to essentially two or three tricks and a final score, remains arguably the most nakedly subjective event on the snowboard schedule.

None of this is the judges’ fault as individuals. Most of the judges working these events know snowboarding. The problem is structural. The framework they’re working within is built for a different era of the sport, when the trick ceiling was lower and the performance gaps between runs were larger. In 2026, when the top twelve halfpipe finalists are all capable of putting down elite runs, the margin for error in judging has essentially disappeared. And the system has not kept up.

FIS and the Ownership Problem

I’ve written about this before, and it keeps being worth saying: FIS controls Olympic snowboarding, and FIS has never fully understood what it governs.

The International Ski Federation took over the Olympic snowboard program in 1998, effectively pushing out the sport’s original governing body, the ISF. That takeover was never about improving snowboarding. It was about control, about who got to put their name on the sport when the television cameras showed up every four years. The result has been 28 years of a sport administered by an organization whose primary competency is alpine ski racing, attempting to apply judging frameworks borrowed from gymnastics and figure skating to a culture that grew out of skateparks and backcountry powder.

The judging controversies at Milano Cortina 2026 are downstream of that. When Pare got DQ’d, when Kim’s double cork 1080 wasn’t enough to win, when every scored run produced a result that someone could reasonably question, those weren’t isolated errors. They were the predictable output of a system that was never built to handle what snowboarding has become.

What Actually Needs to Change

The sport needs two things, and it has needed them for a long time.

First, adjudication transparency. For judged events, the scoring breakdown should be public and immediate. Not just the final number, but how each judge weighted each criterion, what triggered score reductions, and what specific elements pushed a run above or below comparable scores. Gymnastics publishes this. Figure skating publishes this. There is no reason snowboarding should still be operating on numbers that appear from nowhere and require faith rather than explanation.

Second, snowboard cross needs an explicit standard for what constitutes intentional versus involuntary versus incidental contact, with video examples published before every major competition. The category of “intentional” should require clear evidence of deliberate redirection toward another rider. A board clip in a turn is not that. Nathan Pare did not deserve to go home.

The Part That Doesn’t Change

I’ll say what I said in January, because it’s still true: snowboarding is better than this.

The riding in Livigno was extraordinary. The progression in every event has been extraordinary. Watching riders push the limits of what’s physically possible on a snowboard, at the Olympics, in front of the largest audience the sport will ever reach, that part is real. That part is worth caring about.

But the Olympic stage will keep failing snowboarding as long as the structure around the riding remains frozen in place. Judging reform isn’t a conversation for after the medal ceremonies. It’s the conversation that should have happened years ago, and keeps getting deferred until the next controversy forces it back into view.

Milano Cortina 2026 forced it back into view. Again.

The question is whether anyone in a position to actually change something will still be paying attention in four years.

As the world turns its attention to the Winter Olympics, feeds will flood with glossy montages of gold medals and perfectly groomed halfpipes. But for those who know where to look, the real story isn’t happening on the podium. It’s unfolding on the wind-whipped trails of Sugarloaf.

For champions, snowboarding is less about being noticed and more about being forged. It’s built through environments that demand obsession, focus, and relentless time on snow. And when the world watches the best drop in this month, the conversation inevitably circles back to Carrabassett Valley Academy (CVA).

CVA has become synonymous with a certain kind of mastery. Riders who emerge from its ranks carry an edge not measured in social media likes or sponsor contracts, but in precision, intelligence, and an instinctive understanding of their equipment. This is where talent meets infrastructure, and ambition meets opportunity.

Alumni Spotlight: The Maine-Forged Edge

While Olympic broadcasts highlight flash and spectacle, insiders know where true technical riders are bred: The Loaf. CVA alumni don’t simply appear on podiums. They’re built from years navigating some of the most variable, unforgiving terrain on the East Coast. From legendary pioneers to era-defining icons like Seth Wescott, the CVA lineage is defined by precision, resilience, and a relentless attention to detail.

“CVA isn’t just about learning how to win; it’s about learning how to ride. When you spend your formative years negotiating Maine’s fickle snow, you develop a level of edge control and spatial awareness that becomes a permanent advantage,” says one alumnus.

It’s a distinctive philosophy. Riders learn to read conditions, anticipate changes, and respond in real time. They don’t chase trends—they chase excellence.

Shaping the Sport: The Jeremy Jones Proof Point

CVA’s influence on snowboarding isn’t limited to start gates and finish lines. It extends into the very way the sport understands terrain, consequence, and responsibility.

Jeremy Jones ’93 is one of the most consequential snowboarders in the sport’s evolution. An 11-time Big Mountain Rider of the Year, Jones helped define what technical mastery looks like in consequential terrain. His riding elevated big-mountain lines from spectacle to discipline, emphasizing preparation, line choice, and respect for the mountain.

Jones is also the founder of Protect Our Winters (POW), one of the most influential climate advocacy organizations in action sports. Through POW, he’s connected the technical understanding of snow and terrain with stewardship, ensuring those who follow have winters worth riding. His path underscores a broader CVA truth: mastery doesn’t end at the podium. It extends into leadership, longevity, and responsibility. The same technical foundation that produces Olympic champions also produces riders capable of shaping the culture itself.

Beyond the Podium: The CVA Difference

CVA is more than a school. It’s a high-fidelity training ground for athletes serious about their craft. While the world waits for the Olympic cycle to care about snowboarding, the crew in Maine is grinding, season over season.

At its core, this is about community. A binding culture that understands the importance of roots and lineage. CVA stands as the Independent Guard of competitive snowboarding, guided by three core pillars:

1. The Laboratory of Sugarloaf
   Riding the Loaf demands a level of precision and articulation that is unmatched in softer Western resorts. Here, the mountain is the ultimate arbiter of skill. It doesn’t care about followers or highlight reels. It only cares about the edge you hold, the line you carve, and the control you exhibit.

2. Academic Rigor Meets Alpine Grit
   This isn’t a casual gap year or some dirtbag sabbatical. CVA offers a college-prep curriculum alongside a world-class training program. The mind and body are sharpened simultaneously. Riders emerge not just as athletes, but as disciplined, well-rounded individuals capable of performing under pressure.

3. The Technical Craft
   At CVA, gear isn’t fit and drip; it’s an extension of the rider. Understanding sidecut radius, core profiles, and base structure isn’t academic. It’s functional. Mastery of equipment translates directly to control, speed, and performance. It’s the difference between a podium finish and a DNF.

The Chess Match at Speed: The SBX Factor

Halfpipe and slopestyle earn the slow-motion replays, but for those who value pure technical truth, Boardercross (SBX) is the ultimate test. It demands explosive power, carving finesse, and tactical intelligence all at once. Every race is a chess match at 50 mph. CVA riders spend their seasons learning to maintain control on firm, variable terrain, threading lines that would unseat lesser competitors.

SBX is objective. The clock and the finish line do not care about popularity, style points, or social reach. Riders who have mastered the line and found the gap move forward. It’s a meritocracy built on performance, not perception.

The Hole Shot: By the Numbers

Olympic dreams are often sold as lottery tickets … a world of subjective judging and sponsor influence. In freestyle, the field is crowded, trends shift, and “flavor of the week” tricks dominate. SBX offers a different path. The high barrier to entry and the emphasis on technical skill make the field smaller, more focused, and more meritocratic.

Training at an academy with a dedicated track and elite coaching doesn’t guarantee fame—it guarantees preparation. CVA athletes take the hole shot knowing they own their path to the world stage.

CVA’s Snowboarding Lineage

If the hole shot represents control over your own destiny, CVA’s Olympic history shows what that control looks like over time.

CVA’s impact on Olympic snowboarding didn’t happen overnight. It was built turn by turn, season by season, on firm snow and harder lessons. Long before snowboard cross became a headline event, CVA riders were already shaping what competitive snowboarding would look like on the world stage.

The academy’s Olympic history reflects both the evolution of the sport and CVA’s ability to stay relevant over decades:

• Mark Fawcett ’90 | Olympic competitor in 1998 and 2002, representing the formative period of snowboard racing and competitive progression.

• Adam Hostetter ’93 | 1998 Olympian, part of the first wave of CVA riders translating East Coast discipline to the global stage.

• Jeff Greenwood ’94 | 2002 Olympian, known for speed, consistency, and race intelligence.

• Seth Wescott ’94 | Olympic gold medalist in 2006 and 2010, the most visible proof point of CVA’s foundational approach paying off at the highest level.

From the sport’s early Olympic days to the modern era of snowboard cross, CVA’s riders share a common thread. They aren’t relying on subjectivity or timing. They’re prepared to perform when the gate drops.

And when the next heat loads, that lineage isn’t history. It’s live.

Boardercross at the Winter Olympics: West / East Coast Viewing Schedule

For fans on the West Coast, catching the SBX action live requires some early mornings—but it’s worth it.

Here’s the lineup:

• Men’s Boardercross Qualifiers: February 9, 7:00 AM PST / 10 AM EST
  The first rounds set the tone. Watch carefully to see which riders take the early “hole shots” and assert control through the variable courses.

• Women’s Boardercross Qualifiers: February 10, 7:30 AM PST / 10:30 AM EST
  A tight field and lightning-fast pack racing. Ideal for studying line choice and edge precision in real time.

• Men’s Boardercross Finals: February 12, 6:00 AM PST / 9:00 AM EST
  The elite riders clash head-to-head. Expect split-second decision-making and textbook edge control under pressure.

• Women’s Boardercross Finals: February 13, 6:30 AM PST / 9:30 AM EST
  Where speed meets strategy. This is the moment to see which athletes have honed both precision and power throughout the season.

• Mixed Relay SBX: February 15, 8:00 AM PST / 11 AM EST
  Teams combine explosive starts, carving finesse, and tactical intelligence. Watch the gap strategy unfold as athletes push to the finish line.

Pro tip: Set DVRs or streaming reminders. Boardercross moves fast, but the lessons in line strategy and control are worth the early wake-up call.

U.S. SBX Athletes to Watch at Milano-Cortina

With Olympic rosters set, snowboard cross at Milano-Cortina will showcase the sport’s full spectrum: legacy racers, proven contenders, and the next generation of precision athletes. Each of the riders below arrives at the start gate with a background built for speed, consequence, and control.

• Nate Pare (*CVA Post-Graduate Class of 2024)
  Competing at the 2026 Winter Games, Pare represents the newest generation of U.S. snowboard cross athletes. His inclusion signals continued momentum as the discipline evolves on the world stage.

• Nick Baumgartner
  A four-time Olympian (2010, 2014, 2018, 2022) and mixed team gold medalist, Baumgartner remains one of the most battle-tested racers in snowboard cross. His longevity and race intelligence continue to define elite SBX performance.

• Faye Thelen
  A four-time Olympian (2010, 2014, 2018, 2022), Thelen brings unmatched experience to the women’s field. Her sustained presence at the Olympic level reflects durability, composure, and technical discipline under pressure.

• Liam Moffatt (*CVA Class of 2015)
  An Olympic competitor in 2022 and returning in 2026, Moffatt spans Olympic cycles with consistency and control. His trajectory reflects adaptability across changing courses, formats, and race dynamics.

• Jake Vedder
  A 2022 Olympian known for explosive starts and calculated line selection, Vedder represents the modern SBX racer. His approach balances aggression with precision in head-to-head competition.

• Cody Winters
  Also a member of the 2022 Olympic team, Winters adds depth and intensity to the U.S. field. His reputation for attacking variable terrain makes him a constant presence in fast, physical heats.

• Stacy Gaskill
  A 2022 Olympian, Gaskill exemplifies the strength of the U.S. women’s snowboard cross program. Her racing emphasizes speed management, tactical awareness, and execution when margins disappear.

• Hanna Percy
  A member of the 2026 U.S. Olympic team, Percy enters the Games as part of the next wave of American SBX talent. Her rise reflects consistency, edge control, and decision-making at speed.

• Brianna Schnorrbusch
  Selected for the 2026 Olympic roster, Schnorrbusch brings a composed, analytical approach to pack racing. Her progression highlights the importance of precision and patience in high-variance competition.

Join the Ranks

Enrollment at Carrabassett Valley Academy is more than a choice; it’s an invitation into a lineage. It’s for riders who understand the Chairlift Code, respect the craft of their kit, and value days on snow above everything else.

From judged formats to head-to-head competition, snowboard pathways diverge quickly. CVA has long aligned with the path where preparation and execution decide the outcome.

The roster is set. Twenty-four American snowboarders are heading to Milan-Cortina next month, and this squad tells a story that’s equal parts legacy, youth movement, and redemption. The Games kick off February 6, and for the first time in over two decades, we’re watching a U.S. team that doesn’t include Shaun White. What we do have is something potentially more interesting: a mix of established champions, teenage phenoms, and riders who refused to quit even when everything told them they should.

Halfpipe: History in the Making

Chloe Kim is attempting something no snowboarder has ever done. Not Shaun White. Not Kelly Clark. Not anyone. If she wins gold in Milan-Cortina, she’ll be the first to three-peat. She’s 25 years old, took two years off after Beijing 2022, came back and immediately reasserted dominance. Just this month, she won her eighth X Games SuperPipe title, tying White’s record. She’s landed a 1260 in contest (first woman ever) and joined teammate Maddie Mastro in landing double cork 1080s. According to her coach, she’s landed a 1440 in practice but hasn’t attempted it in contest yet.

The women’s pipe squad also includes Mastro, a two-time Games veteran with 18 World Cup podiums, 19-year-old Bea Kim making her debut, and Maddy Schaffrick, whose story deserves its own telling. Schaffrick retired from competitive snowboarding at 20 years old. Not because her body gave out, but because her mind did. She was riding internationally at 14, burned out hard, and walked away for nearly a decade. She was coaching the halfpipe team at Beijing 2022. Now, at 31, she’s riding in Milan-Cortina. She’ll be the oldest American halfpipe rider to make a debut. Her second-place finish at the U.S. Grand Prix in Aspen wasn’t just a good result. It was proof that sometimes the long way around is the only way forward.

On the men’s side, 17-year-old Alessandro Barbieri from Portland is Team USA’s best shot at challenging the dominant Japanese and Australian riders. He became the first American ever to land a triple cork in contest this season, and he’s already got two World Cup podiums. He’s joined by Jake Pates, who rode at PyeongChang 2018 then stepped away for years before mounting a comeback, veteran Chase Josey, and first-timer Chase Blackwell. It’s a young squad going up against established international powerhouses, but Barbieri’s progression suggests the U.S. pipe program has legitimate medal potential.

Slopestyle: Youth Movement Meets Redemption

Red Gerard won gold in slopestyle at 17 years old in 2018, becoming snowboarding’s youngest-ever champion. He finished fourth in 2022. Now 25, he’s back with something to prove and the skills to back it up. He won X Games slopestyle gold in both 2024 and 2025, throwing down runs that included a switch backside triple cork 1620 and a backside 1800. He’s not the kid who stumbled into gold anymore. He’s a veteran looking to reclaim what he knows he can do.

Gerard is joined by Sean FitzSimons, a 2022 veteran from Hood River, Oregon, Jake Canter, who just clinched his spot with his first-ever World Cup victory at the Aspen Grand Prix, and 17-year-old Ollie Martin from Colorado, who earned two bronze medals at World Championships and a World Cup win to punch his ticket.

The women’s slopestyle roster is where things get really interesting. Lily Dhawornvej and Jess Perlmutter are both 16 years old. They’ll be the youngest U.S. snowboarders in Milan-Cortina. Both made their marks on the Nor-Am circuit with podiums in big air and slopestyle. They’re joined by Hahna Norman, also making her debut. This is a complete generational reset for U.S. women’s slopestyle. Two-time champion Jamie Anderson didn’t make the roster. The era that belonged to her is over. What comes next starts with these three.

Snowboard Cross: The Old Guard and Fresh Blood

Nick Baumgartner is 44 years old. This is his fifth Games. He spent the better part of two decades chasing a medal, coming close repeatedly, getting knocked out in controversial situations, watching younger riders claim the podium spots he wanted. Then in 2022, at 40 years old, he won gold in the inaugural mixed team event alongside Lindsey Jacobellis. Now he’s back for one more run, the oldest U.S. snowboarder ever. Again.

Baumgartner leads a men’s squad that includes Jake Vedder (Beijing 2022 veteran), Cody Winters (who also competes in parallel giant slalom), and Nathan Pare, the 2023-24 FIS Rookie of the Year making his debut.

On the women’s side, Faye Thelen is competing in her fifth Games. She’s been to Vancouver, Sochi, Pyeongchang, and Beijing. Now Milan-Cortina. She’s joined by Stacy Gaskill (Beijing 2022), and rookies Hanna Percy, just 18 years old from Truckee, California, and Brianna Schnorrbusch. This is a discipline where experience matters enormously, but fresh talent keeps the established riders honest.

What This Team Represents

The 2026 U.S. snowboard team is 24 riders strong across halfpipe, slopestyle, and snowboard cross. What makes this group compelling isn’t just the medal potential, though there’s plenty of that. It’s the range of stories. Riders like Baumgartner and Thelen who’ve been doing this at the highest level for over a decade. Legends like Chloe Kim attempting to make history. Comebacks like Schaffrick and Pates who walked away and found their way back. Teenage talent like Dhawornvej, Perlmutter, Barbieri, and Martin who represent where snowboarding is heading.

The U.S. leads the all-time medal count with 35. At Beijing 2022, American snowboarders brought home a significant portion of Team USA’s total haul. The expectation in Milan-Cortina is more of the same. But beyond the medal counts and podium predictions, this squad matters because it shows every possible path a snowboard career can take. The prodigies who make it look easy. The grinders who chase it for years. The burnouts who come back. The veterans who refuse to quit. The next generation pushing in.

Opening ceremonies are February 6. Competition starts shortly after. And for these 24 riders, everything they’ve worked for comes down to the next few weeks in northern Italy.

No pressure. Just opportunity.

Red Gerard, the slopestyle gold medalist who famously overslept before winning at the 2018 Olympics, now has his signature order available as a digital menu item. Starting January 15, you can fuel up like Red through the app and website with The Red Gerard Bowl.

What’s in Red’s Go-To Order?

The Red Gerard Bowl packs 48 grams of protein into a straightforward combination: chicken, extra white rice, tomatillo-red chili salsa, cheese, sour cream, and lettuce. It’s a simple, high-carb setup that makes sense for someone spending all day on the mountain.

This partnership is part of “Team Chipotle 2026,” which also features U.S. hockey players Matthew Tkachuk, Brady Tkachuk, Hilary Knight, and Taylor Heise. Red’s the only snowboarder in the lineup, which tracks with his position as one of America’s most recognizable riders.

Why Non-Endemic Sponsors Matter

Here’s the reality: most snowboarders can’t make pro-level money from board companies, outerwear brands, and boot manufacturers alone. The industry doesn’t have the financial depth of stick-and-ball sports. To actually earn a living, riders need partnerships outside traditional snowboard sponsors.

Red’s Chipotle deal represents a smarter direction than the energy drink route that’s dominated action sports for decades. While Monster and Red Bull have pumped serious cash into snowboarding, partnering with a fast-casual chain that actually serves real food feels more authentic. Chipotle is arguably the healthiest major fast-food option out there—fresh ingredients, no artificial additives, customizable nutrition. Plus, the food is legitimately good.

Behind the Scenes

The brand released an “Unwrapped” video series featuring Red and other Team Chipotle athletes discussing how they reached the top of their sports. You can watch Red’s episode here:

They’re also bringing back gold foil-wrapped burritos starting February 6 at all U.S. locations while supplies last—a nice touch for anyone looking to celebrate like they just landed a winning run.

The Last Word

Athlete partnerships with fast-casual chains aren’t new, but seeing a snowboarder get the same treatment as hockey players and tennis pros signals mainstream appeal. Red’s been a superfan for years, and this collaboration feels genuine to anyone who’s grabbed a burrito bowl on the way home from riding.

If you want to try The Red Gerard Bowl, it’s available now exclusively through the app and Chipotle.com.

The 2026 Winter Olympics kick off in Milan Cortina in less than a month, and if you’re expecting snowboarding’s judging controversies to have been resolved since Beijing 2022, I’ve got some disappointing news for you. We’re about to watch this broken system play out on the world’s biggest stage, and the riders who’ve dedicated their lives to progression deserve better.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: Olympic snowboarding has been fundamentally flawed since day one, and the people running the show either can’t fix it or don’t want to. The International Ski Federation (FIS) has been snowboarding’s reluctant guardian for nearly three decades, and their track record speaks for itself. Missed grabs scored as perfect executions. History-making runs underscored by points that would be laughable if the stakes weren’t so high. Athletes forced to land the best run in halfpipe history twice just to get the score they deserved the first time.

And yet, here we are again. Milano Cortina 2026 is three weeks away, and the core problems haven’t changed.

The Same Script, Different Olympics

If you watched the Beijing 2022 Olympics, you witnessed what might be the most egregious judging failure in snowboarding history. Max Parrot won slopestyle gold with a run that included a glaring mistake: he grabbed his knee instead of his board on his final triple cork 1620. The judges didn’t catch it. Head judge Iztok Sumatic later admitted the panel made a mistake, blaming inadequate camera angles and the pressure to score quickly for live television.

But here’s the thing: Sumatic is a good dude who genuinely cares about snowboarding. The issue isn’t individual judges making honest mistakes under pressure. It’s a framework that sets them up to fail. Four years later, identical infrastructure issues persist. Judges still work under intense time constraints. Camera coverage is still dictated by broadcast requirements rather than judging needs. And FIS, the governing body that’s supposed to advocate for snowboarding, continues to prioritize Olympic tradition and television schedules over getting it right.

Meanwhile, Ayumu Hirano had to land the greatest halfpipe run in history twice because the judges underscored his second run by over four points. Think about that. An athlete risking catastrophic injury had to repeat a historic performance because six professionals couldn’t get the numbers correct the first time. That’s not sport. That’s absurdity.

Mark McMorris, who’s lived through multiple Olympic judging controversies, put it bluntly in Beijing: “FIS doesn’t take care of us as much as they maybe should. They’re not caring about the snowboarding.” He’s correct. And nothing meaningful has changed since he said it.

The Chloe Kim Situation: A Microcosm of Everything Wrong

Two weeks ago, Chloe Kim tore her labrum during a training run in Switzerland. She won’t be able to snowboard again until right before the Olympics begin on February 6. Kim, who’s chasing history as the first woman to win three consecutive halfpipe golds, now faces the prospect of showing up to the biggest contest of her life without adequate preparation.

This isn’t bad luck. This is what happens when the Olympic qualification structure forces elite athletes to compete in a grueling circuit of World Cup events, X Games, and training camps, all while managing injury risk and trying to peak at exactly the right moment. Kim already pulled out of the U.S. Grand Prix in December with a shoulder injury. Now she’s racing against the clock to recover from a torn labrum.

The woman has won eight X Games golds and two Olympic golds. She’s proven everything there is to prove. And yet she’s required to keep grinding through qualifiers and tune-up events that add risk without adding value to her preparation. It’s broken, and everyone knows it.

Kim will likely still be the favorite if she makes it to the start gate healthy. But she shouldn’t have to navigate this obstacle course to defend a title she’s already earned twice.

FIS: The Wrong Organization Running Our Sport

Here’s a fact that should make every snowboarder uncomfortable: the organization running Olympic snowboarding is the International Ski Federation. Not a snowboard organization. Not a body created by snowboarders for snowboarders. A skiing federation that was handed control of our sport when the IOC decided to include snowboarding in the Olympics back in the ‘90s.

The cultural disconnect is real and it matters. FIS operates with a skiing mentality applied to a snowboarding context. They prioritize things that work for skiing but make zero sense for snowboarding. They answer to the IOC first and the snowboard community second. And when push comes to shove, broadcast television requirements and Olympic tradition win every single time.

Mark McMorris nailed it when he said judges are “doing this almost as a hobby” because they’re not compensated adequately for the pressure and responsibility of Olympic-level judging. How can we expect professional-caliber judging when we’re not providing professional-caliber support, training, and compensation for the judges?

The answer is simple: we can’t. But FIS has shown no meaningful interest in fixing this. An entire Olympic cycle has passed, and identical systemic issues remain.

The Natural Selection Alternative

The timing of Travis Rice’s Natural Selection tour makes the Olympic situation even more frustrating. Here’s a contest format that works: natural terrain, rider-focused judging, production values that enhance rather than compromise the competition, and an emphasis on the kind of snowboarding that actually matters to the community.

Natural Selection isn’t perfect, but it represents what snowboarding contests can be when snowboarders are running the show. Riders want to compete in it. The judging makes sense. The terrain showcases skills that translate to real-world snowboarding. And there’s genuine excitement around the events because they feel authentic to what our culture is about.

The Olympics should be learning from Natural Selection. Instead, we’re stuck with a format that’s more about television spectacle than authentic riding. FIS could implement better camera systems for judges. They could adjust time constraints to allow for more accurate scoring. They could compensate judges professionally and provide better training. They could listen to the athletes who are putting their bodies on the line.

But they haven’t, and there’s no indication they will.

The Women’s Snowboarding Paradox

Here’s where this gets complicated: for all its flaws, Olympic snowboarding matters more to women’s progression than anyone wants to admit. Research by Darrah Reid-McLean found that less than one percent of video parts in major snowboard films featured women. Meanwhile, at the Olympics, exactly 50 percent of the spots go to women.

The Olympics provide a platform, funding structure, and career pathway for female snowboarders that simply doesn’t exist to the same degree in video-based snowboarding. Events like the Uninvited Invitational and women’s divisions at Natural Selection are closing this gap, but the Olympics remain the most reliable platform for female riders to build careers and gain recognition.

So while men’s snowboarding might not need the Games, women’s snowboarding absolutely does, at least for now. That’s frustrating because it means we can’t write off this platform entirely, even when it repeatedly fails our riders.

The solution isn’t boycotting the Games. The solution is demanding they serve the athletes and culture rather than using us for television ratings.

What Needs to Change (But Probably Won’t)

The fixes aren’t complicated. They require FIS and the IOC to care about getting it right:

Give judges access to multiple camera angles and slow-motion replay. The technology exists. Use it.

Eliminate time pressure to score quickly for television broadcasts. Accuracy matters more than speed.

Compensate judges professionally and provide ongoing training and accountability.

Include rider representatives in decisions about contest format, judging criteria, and rule changes.

Design qualification systems that don’t force elite athletes to risk injury in meaningless tune-up events.

Prioritize rider safety and fair competition over television schedules and traditional Olympic protocols.

These changes would dramatically improve Olympic snowboarding. They would reduce controversies, increase fairness, and create contests that better represent what we’re about. None of them are technically difficult. They require FIS to prioritize snowboarding over their other interests.

And that’s precisely why they won’t happen.

The Last Word

I want to be excited about Milano Cortina 2026. I want to watch Chloe Kim chase history and see the next generation of riders push progression on the world’s biggest stage. I want Olympic snowboarding to be a genuine celebration of our culture.

But I also know what we’re walking into. Flawed judging infrastructure. FIS leadership that treats snowboarding as an afterthought. A disconnect between what the Olympics pretend to be and what they deliver.

Riders will put down incredible performances. New heroes will emerge. Progression will happen despite the system, not because of it. And when the judging controversies inevitably surface, we’ll have identical conversations we’ve had after every Games since snowboarding was included.

Our culture built this from nothing and deserves contests that reflect those values rather than compromise them for television ratings. The athletes risking everything on that halfpipe wall or launching off those jumps require infrastructure that works.

Until FIS and the IOC fix the fundamental issues with Olympic snowboarding, we’re not watching the sport’s pinnacle. We’re watching a flawed approximation, dressed up with pageantry and broadcast production.

The riders will show up and throw down anyway, because that’s what they do. But three decades into Olympic snowboarding, we shouldn’t still be having these conversations about these issues. The fact that we are tells you everything you need to know about who’s really running this show.

Spoiler alert: it’s not the snowboarders.

What separates a $75 Wildhorn from a $283 Smith I/O Mag when they both use magnets? Everything.

Magnetic lens systems have revolutionized goggle technology, but the gap between budget and premium engineering is massive. This guide explains what you’re getting at every price point and why interchangeable lenses fundamentally change how you ride.

Why Lens Swapping Actually Matters

Light conditions change constantly on the mountain. That perfect 15% VLT bluebird lens becomes dangerously dark when clouds roll in. Your 60% VLT storm lens turns the world into an overexposed mess when sun breaks through.

Riding with the wrong tint isn’t just uncomfortable; it’s dangerous. In flat light with a dark lens, you can’t see terrain variations or ice patches. Storm lenses in bright sun cause eye strain and reduced peripheral awareness. With quick-swap capability, you optimize vision in real-time instead of compromising for two-thirds of your day.

Traditional clip-in systems were such hassles that riders never swapped lenses. Magnetic technology takes 3-5 seconds even with gloves, which means you’ll actually use your spare lenses and experience the vision benefits interchangeable systems provide.

How Magnetic Systems Work

Premium systems like Smith’s MAG use 8 magnetic contact points plus dual mechanical locks. Even if magnets fail, side levers keep lenses attached. The magnets are N52 grade, the strongest available.

Anon’s Magna-Tech uses fewer but more powerful magnets. Dragon’s Swiftlock combines magnets with a single release lever. Budget brands like Wildhorn use rare-earth magnets with side-clip locks for reliable retention at accessible prices.

The difference isn’t magnet count. It’s magnetic field strength, manufacturing precision, and backup systems. Entry-level prioritizes value; premium adds engineering refinement for bomb-proof retention.

Safety note: Four years ago, snowboarder Shelby Perry’s magnetic lens popped off during a tree crash, resulting in permanent eye injury. Modern systems have dramatically improved with mechanical backup locks and stronger magnets. Budget goggles today are far safer than early implementations.

The Price-Performance Breakdown

Budget ($75-$100): Wildhorn Roca & Pipeline Wildhorn earned its US Ski Team supplier status by delivering legitimate performance at accessible prices. The Roca Pro ($79, spherical) and Pipeline ($89) feature rare-earth magnets with clip locks, Aurora lens technology with anti-fog coatings, and triple-layer foam. These provide honest optical performance backed by lifetime warranties. Perfect for riders logging 10-30 days who want magnetic convenience without premium investment.

Mid-Range ($99-$200): Where Value Lives The Wildhorn Maxfield Pro L ($99) delivers 185° Outlook field of view and Fenom lens technology, enhanced clarity and contrast through custom tapered design. Double anti-fog coating offers 3x effectiveness. At this price, you’re getting optical tech that typically costs $200+.

The Maxfield Pro L Photochromic ($160) is Wildhorn’s flagship, adding auto-adjusting lens technology to the same platform. The photochromic range covers wide VLT from bright sun to low light. This competes with Glade’s Fathom+ ($175-200) and costs half what Smith charges for photochromic models.

Glade Fathom+ ($199) features award-winning REVEAL technology that adjusts in 15 seconds with premium toric optics. The 4K upgrade delivers exceptional flat-light performance.

Premium ($250-$350): Engineering Excellence Smith I/O Mag ($283) is the gold standard. Eight magnetic contacts plus dual levers create bomb-proof retention. Spherical ChromaPop lenses filter wavelengths that cause color confusion, revealing terrain details other goggles can’t render. Available in three sizes plus low-bridge fits.

Anon M5 ($315) features flat-toric lens design with Perceive technology rivaling ChromaPop. The smoothest magnetic operation; lenses twist out and snap back with precision. Includes magnetic face mask for extreme conditions.

Dragon NFXs Mag OTG ($260) offers frameless design with Lumalens optics and Over-The-Glasses compatibility. The Solace IR lens blocks 99% of infrared rays, reducing eye fatigue on bright days.

What to Buy

Best Overall: Smith I/O Mag ($283). Unmatched ChromaPop optics, flawless magnetic system, inspiring build quality.

Best Value: Wildhorn Maxfield Pro L ($99). Professional-grade 185° FOV and Fenom optics at a price that challenges anything under $200.

Best Photochromic: Wildhorn Maxfield Pro L Photochromic ($160). Auto-adjusting lens tech, premium field of view, for less than competitors charge for standard magnetic systems.

Best Budget: Wildhorn Pipeline ($89). Functional magnetic swapping, comfortable fit, massive cylindrical field of view. Real value from a US Ski Team supplier.

The Last Word

Interchangeable lenses change your riding experience. Optimizing vision for conditions makes you faster, safer, more confident. Magnetic systems make this actually usable.

For 30+ day riders, Smith or Anon deliver optical advantages that compound over thousands of turns. For maximum value, Wildhorn redefined accessible pricing. The Maxfield Pro L competes with $200-300 goggles. The Photochromic brings premium tech for less than most charge for basic magnetic systems. The Roca and Pipeline prove quality doesn’t require premium pricing.

Choose the price point matching your budget, but don’t compromise on the core benefit: swapping lenses when conditions change. That’s what makes modern goggles worth the investment.

The final weeks of December delivered legitimate snowboard news across competition, product development, and unexpected brand partnerships. Here’s what actually happened while most people were focused on holiday travel.

Park Contest Format Works

The inaugural Rockstar Energy Open wrapped December 21 in Breckenridge, proving that head-to-head bracket formats can deliver genuine entertainment. Dusty Henricksen took the men’s parkstyle final over Norway’s Øyvind Kirkhus, who earned his spot through the video qualifier series rather than a guaranteed invitation. That detail matters because it demonstrates the format allows unknown talent to advance based on performance rather than social media followers.

Telma Särkipaju won the women’s final against Jamie Anderson in what Anderson herself called a highlight, sharing the podium with riders significantly younger than her 34 years. Särkipaju competed through bruised heels from the previous week’s big air event in Steamboat, adding context to her performance.

The event succeeded by mixing established contest riders with street specialists and powder enthusiasts, creating legitimate variety in riding styles rather than the usual homogenous slopestyle approach. Whether this translates into ongoing viability for similar events remains unclear, but the first iteration worked.

Olympic Season Competition Begins

Japan reasserted halfpipe dominance at the Secret Garden World Cup on December 12, sweeping the men’s podium with Olympic champion Ayumu Hirano leading Yuto Totsuka and Crystal Globe holder Ruka Hirano. This marked Ayumu’s record 22nd World Cup podium, moving him ahead of American legend Ross Powers in FIS Park & Pipe history.

Korea’s Choi Gaon won the women’s event, building momentum after her Secret Garden victory heading into Copper Mountain the following week. The absence of American riders at Secret Garden set up an interesting dynamic when Chloe Kim returned to competition at Copper December 17-19, qualifying second overall behind Gaon’s 93-point run.

These early-season results establish baseline expectations heading toward Milano Cortina 2026. Japanese men continue their seven-year podium streak across 30+ consecutive events. American women showed depth with four qualifiers advancing at Copper despite sitting out Secret Garden. The Olympic qualification window is narrow, making these December events critical rather than ceremonial.

Soccer Meets Snowboarding

Nitro partnered with Italian soccer club Inter Milan for a limited-edition Team board, announced December 30. The collaboration places Inter’s blue-and-black colors on one of Nitro’s most versatile all-mountain models, available in four sizes.

This represents straightforward brand extension targeting casual riders who follow soccer more than competitive snowboarding. Nitro founder Tommy Delago cited Inter’s international identity and teamwork values as alignment points, which reads like standard partnership PR but isn’t wrong. The board uses 20+ years of Nitro Team development for versatile performance across terrain types.

Whether soccer fans actually buy snowboards remains questionable, but the move costs Nitro minimal risk while potentially reaching audiences outside traditional snowboard marketing channels. It’s harmless product diversification that won’t affect core riders either way.

Binding Technology Diversifies

The FASE (Fast Entry System) binding platform gained significant adoption with ThirtyTwo, Jones, Bataleon, and Rome all confirming integration for upcoming seasons. This matters because it challenges Burton’s Step On monopoly on quick-entry systems while maintaining compatibility with standard two-strap configurations.

FASE works with existing boots rather than requiring proprietary footwear, removing the $380+ barrier that Burton’s system demands. Riders preferring traditional strap feel can access faster entry without completely abandoning familiar binding mechanics or boot investments.

Our coverage positioned FASE as a “game changer,” which overstates impact but correctly identifies meaningful competition in a category Burton has dominated since 2017. Union already partnered with Burton for Step On compatibility, and now Nitro announced Step On bindings as well, creating an interesting dynamic where multiple brands support Burton’s proprietary system while others back FASE’s more open approach.

The binding category hasn’t seen this much genuine innovation activity in years. Whether FASE delivers on promised performance remains to be tested through full seasons, but increased options benefit riders regardless of which system ultimately proves superior.

Read: FASE Binding System Review

Snow Conditions Expose Western Fragility

Colorado resorts closed out December with concerning totals. Not a single Colorado operation surpassed 70 inches of season snowfall heading into year’s end. Christmas brought warm temperatures and rain to multiple areas, with Vail hitting 43 degrees on Christmas Eve.

Utah faced similar struggles. Park City Mountain Resort showed bare trails through late December, with three resorts unable to announce opening dates through the holidays. The Christmas Eve storm that forecasters predicted turned into rain at base elevations. Only aggressive snowmaking during brief cold windows kept limited terrain accessible.

Idaho reported snowpack at just 31 percent of normal, with only 12 of 19 ski areas operating during the holiday period. Bogus Basin managed just 18 inches of base depth by December 22, while Tamarack opened limited runs on bare minimum coverage. Idaho, Oregon, and western Colorado recorded their warmest Novembers on record.

This isn’t breaking news to anyone paying attention over the past decade, but the trend keeps accelerating. While Canadian resorts like Lake Louise set December records, American operations confronted another reminder that reliable winter conditions are increasingly unreliable. Resorts responded with aggressive snowmaking infrastructure, but manufactured snow only delays fundamental problems.

What This Means

Competition formats are experimenting beyond traditional slopestyle structures. Japanese halfpipe strength shows no signs of weakening heading into another Olympic cycle. Brand partnerships are reaching into unexpected sports territories. Binding technology is finally evolving beyond incremental strap improvements.

But climate reality overshadows everything else. The industry keeps innovating products and refining contest formats while the fundamental resource supporting all of it becomes less reliable each season. Snowmaking infrastructure provides temporary solutions, but warm December temperatures and rain at 8,000-foot elevations expose limits to manufactured snow strategies.

Nothing here represents revolutionary change, but collectively it demonstrates an industry functioning in recognizable patterns while testing new approaches where opportunity exists—all while carefully avoiding direct conversation about whether that opportunity will exist long-term.

All hail Ullr. Pray for snow.

After six days on snow wearing the Strafe Nomad Jacket and Nomad Bib in everything from 10-degree bluebird mornings to 25-degree snowstorms with wind, I can confidently say this kit represents one of the most reliable outerwear combinations available for serious mountain use. That’s not marketing speak. This assessment comes from someone who’s designed technical outerwear for Burton, Helly Hansen, 686, Neff, K2, Grenade, Kemper, and my own Jib Hunt line. I know what goes into building proper shells, and more importantly, I know what fails in real conditions.

Strafe supports legitimate riders, not just lifestyle influencers. Their ambassador roster includes splitboarders like Sadie Ford and Christopher Logan, along with snowboarders Shane Serrano and Molly Glassman who are putting this gear through proper mountain abuse. That matters when evaluating whether a brand understands what riders need versus what marketing departments think they need.

The Jacket: Dialed for Mountain Reliability

The Nomad Jacket ($679) uses Pertex Shield 3L construction with a 20K/18K waterproof/breathability rating. At 22.9 ounces, it’s substantial enough to handle abuse without feeling like you’re wearing a tarp. The relaxed fit allows proper layering without restricting movement, which matters when you’re skinning uphill in the morning and bombing runs by afternoon.

From a design perspective, Strafe got the details right. The helmet-compatible hood features three-point adjustment that works while wearing gloves, something I’ve spent countless hours refining in my own pattern development work. Underarm vents are properly positioned and sized for dumping heat when you’re working hard. The pack-friendly chest pockets sit high enough that they don’t interfere with hip belts, and one includes an interior mesh sleeve for electronics.

After testing through multiple temperature swings and weather conditions, the jacket’s Endurance DWR coating continues shedding moisture without issue. The membrane performed comparably to what I’ve seen in Burton’s AK 3L Gore-Tex lineup, which starts at $890 for their Acamar jacket. Arc’teryx’s Rush series runs $899, Patagonia’s PowSlayer hits $799, and The North Face Summit Tsirku GTX Pro sits at $850. Strafe delivers equivalent technical performance at a lower price point, which reflects their direct focus on mountain sports rather than lifestyle brand positioning.

What impressed me most: the fit. I’m wearing a large, and it’s perfect. The 31.25-inch center back length (medium spec) provides adequate coverage without excess material bunching at the waist. The quick-dry thumbhole cuffs seal properly without riding up, and the adjustable powder skirt with gripper elastic and YKK snaps keeps snow out during deeper days. This is fundamental pattern work done correctly, the kind of attention to fit that separates functional technical gear from catalog filler.

The Bibs: Performance with One Fit Caveat

The Nomad Bib ($619) matches the jacket’s technical capabilities with the same Pertex Shield 3L fabric and 20K/18K ratings. At 24.9 ounces, these bibs deliver proper protection without the weight penalty of heavily insulated pants. The fixed bib design with 4-way stretch fabric provides mobility where you need it most, and the covered 2-way center front zipper makes bathroom breaks manageable even when wearing multiple layers.

Storage is excellent. The zippered chest pockets are genuinely useful and each includes a mesh electronics sleeve. The right thigh cargo pocket easily swallows skins, and the hand pockets are sized for gloves and other essentials. Exposed hamstring vents work effectively for temperature regulation, and the CORDURA scuff guards at the hems still look fresh after six days of use.

Here’s the honest assessment on fit: the waist runs snug for a large. I’m between medium and large sizes without a belly, and the large bibs feel noticeably tighter at the waist than I’d prefer. This isn’t a dealbreaker, particularly once you’re moving and the 4-way stretch fabric does its job, but it’s worth noting if you’re between sizes or prefer more room in the waist. Having spent years grading size runs, I’d recommend Strafe add an extra inch or two of ease through the waist band in their next iteration. The adjustable elastic suspenders help compensate somewhat, but proper waist comfort shouldn’t require suspension adjustment.

The 32.5-inch inseam (medium spec) works well for my height, and the zippered hem gussets provide adjustment options for different boot heights. For context, Burton’s AK Gore-Tex 3L Freebird bib runs $700, The North Face Summit L5 bib hits $700, Patagonia’s Untracked bibs land at $649, and Arc’teryx Sabre bibs reach $700. All offer similar technical specifications, but you’re paying a significant premium for those established brand names. The Strafe Nomad Bib delivers comparable weather protection and better pocket configuration at $30 to $81 less than competitors.

Weather Performance

Testing through 10-degree cold snaps and 25-degree storms with wind confirmed what the specs promise: this kit handles serious weather. The Pertex Shield membrane kept me dry during sustained snowfall, and the PFC-free Endurance DWR treatment continued beading water through multiple days of use. Temperature regulation worked well across the range, with vents providing adequate cooling when needed and the shell offering solid wind protection when sealed up.

The PFAS-free construction matters for environmental reasons, and it’s worth noting that Strafe achieved this without compromising performance. Having worked with various membrane suppliers throughout my career, I can confirm the hydrophilic PU membrane technology performs on par with what you’d find in products costing 30 to 40 percent more. Six days represents a good initial break-in period, and both pieces show no signs of degradation or water penetration.

Competitive Value Assessment

At $1,298 for the complete outfit, the Strafe Nomad Jacket and Bib represent a significant investment. However, comparable kits from established brands run substantially higher. A Burton AK Gore-Tex Acamar Jacket and Freebird Bib combination would cost $1,590. Arc’teryx Rush Jacket and Sabre Bib totals $1,599. The North Face Summit L5 kit is $1,550. Patagonia’s PowSlayer Jacket and Untracked Bibs hit $1,448. Strafe delivers equivalent technical performance, comparable build quality, and superior pocket configurations while undercutting competitors across the board.

This pricing advantage reflects Strafe’s operational focus. They’re designing and testing in Aspen’s Highland Bowl rather than funding global lifestyle marketing campaigns or supporting extensive team rider programs. The value proposition is straightforward: you’re paying for technical performance and mountain-specific design, not brand cachet.

The Last Word

The quality justifies the cost for riders who prioritize reliability and technical performance. The jacket fits exceptionally well with proper attention to mountain-specific details that only come from designers who actually spend time in the mountains. The bibs deliver comparable technical performance with excellent storage and mobility, though the snug waist fit in large sizes deserves consideration when ordering.

For serious mountain use across variable conditions, this combination works. That’s the assessment after six consecutive days of testing from someone who’s built technical outerwear for nearly two decades, not a single afternoon at the resort. Strafe competes directly with Burton AK, The North Face Summit, Arc’teryx, and Patagonia offerings at a more accessible price point, which makes the Nomad collection particularly compelling for riders focused on performance over prestige.

If you’ve looked at the SNOTEL maps for Colorado and Utah this week … you know the vibe. Statewide snowpack is abysmal and temps are hovering around the mid-50s; with the front side of Vail currently looking more like a gravel quarry than a world-class resort. For those of us unwilling to spend another day in the base-lodge desperately attempting to lower the cost basis of a season pass and listening to tourists complain about the lack of the white stuff, it’s time to lean into the only logical solution: skitching dirt.

Enter Scree-Slide Granite-Glaze—The official polymer for the 2025 early season offering in the West. We’ve been testing this stuff for the last 72 hours on a 2012 Liberace Technologies Slippery Banana Peel that has more core-shots than a firing range gong, and the results are surprisingly dusty.

The Tech

Unlike traditional fluoros meant for “frozen water,” Scree-Slide is a high-density, lithophobic (rock-repelling) polymer. It’s infused with sagebrush extract and a proprietary blend of “hop-and-pray” resins designed specifically for the sharp shale of the Wasatch and the abrasive granite of the Rockies.

• Friction Coefficient: Tested on 100% dry dirt at Brighton. We found it reduces “shale-drag” by nearly 30%, allowing for a sustained glide across moderate mud patches and small-to-medium decorative landscaping.

• Spark Suppression: One of the biggest dangers of rock-boarding is the literal sparks. Scree-Slide features a fire-retardant additive that keeps your base from igniting when you gap a gravel cat track.

Slope Testing: The Colorado Skidmark Audit

Our lead tester took a fresh coat of Scree-Slide to a south-facing aspect in Summit County.

“Normally, when you hit a patch of exposed pine needles and frozen mud, the board just sticks. With Scree-Slide, I actually accelerated through the dirt section. I didn’t make a single turn, mostly because there was no edge-hold, but the speed was exhilarating.”

The Pros

• Aroma: Smells like burnt pine and desperation.

• Durability: Lasts for approximately 150 yards of pure scree before you need to re-apply (or buy a new board).

• Price: Retails for the cost of a single “Epic-Day” parking spot, but provides infinitely more soul over rented asphalt.

The Cons

• Health Hazard: Inhaling the dust generated at high speeds may cause “The Brown Lung.”

• Optics: You’ll look like a lunatic. (Then again, you’re snowboarding in 50-degree weather on a pile of rocks, and many of you paid for an Epic or Ikon pass … so that ship has sailed).

Rumor Mill: Is the “Epic Dry-Slope Season” Coming to Colorado?

While most of us are checking NOAA like every 15 minutes, rumors are swirling out of Broomfield that Vail Resorts is looking to “climate-proof” its flagship properties by doing the unthinkable: Installing wall-to-wall dry-slope matting.

An “internal memo” (which may or may not have been found on a cocktail napkin at Pepi’s) suggests that if the 2025 snowpack doesn’t hit 70% by mid-January, the company will begin a pilot program to cover the entirety of Mid-Vail in “Epic-Turf”—a proprietary, recycled-plastic bristles system designed to mimic the feeling of 40-degree boilerplate ice, year-round.

The Corporate Pitch: “Why rely on the volatility of the jet stream when you can have the consistent, friction-rich experience of a 1980s UK leisure center? Epic-Turf™ allows for a 365-day operating season, zero water consumption, and an incredible exfoliation experience every time you catch a toe-side edge.”

The Reality Check: While the company is officially doubling down on their “Commitment to Zero” (zero natural snow, apparently), locals are already calling the proposed mats “The White Ribbon of Death 2.0.” If this goes through, your rock board won’t just be an early-season necessity—it’ll be your daily driver for the next decade.

Read: Let The Kids Ride Free

The Fine Print: A Primer on the Epic Refund Policy

As the dust settles on a brown December, many pass-holders may be looking for an “eject” button. However, if you’re hoping for a prorated credit ’cause your favorite run currently looks like a mountain bike trail in July, you haven’t been reading the Epic Coverage terms.

Here’s the accurate, no-nonsense breakdown of why Corporate isn’t cutting you any slack:

• The “Snow Guarantee” (Or Lack Thereof): Vail’s policy is explicitly clear: Snow conditions are not a covered event. “Poor snow,” “lack of terrain opening,” or “weather-related closures” (unless they reach a specific total-season duration) do not qualify for a refund.

  While volcanic eruptions and earthquakes are covered, the “natural disaster” of a 50-degree Christmas in Vail is considered a “Guest Experience” issue.

• The “Core Season” Trap: Epic Coverage is tied to a “Core Season” (typically defined as early December through Easter). To trigger a “Pro-Rata” refund based on weather, a resort must be 100% closed for a specific number of consecutive days. If they have one lane of manmade mayhem and a lift spinning, they’re technically “open,” and your refund claim is dead on arrival.

  As we’re seeing right now at Stevens Pass (dealing with Highway 2 washouts) and across the Rockies, Vail maintains that as long as the resort is “operational” (even if inaccessible or down to one trail), it is not a “Qualifying Resort Closure.”

• Seasonal Operating Policies: Vail Reserves the right to “adjust operating dates and hours” based on conditions. This means they can close entire peaks, wind down lift operations, or delay openings indefinitely without triggering a “Resort Closure Event” under the insurance policy.

• The “Personal” vs. “Resort” Clause: You’re covered if you become ill or lose your job. You’re not covered if the mountain isn’t sick …

The Bottom Line: You bought the ticket; you’re riding the ride—even if the ride is currently 90% mud.

The Takeaway: In the corporate era, the risk has been shifted entirely from the operator to the consumer. They get your money in April; you get whatever winter decides to deliver on in December.

Read: Policies, Terms, And Conditions

The Top 5 Boards for the “Epic-Turf” Era

If you’re going to ride the plastic fantastic, you need a base that can take a beating.

1. The Liberace Technologies Slippery Banana Peel (The Original Rock-Star): There’s a reason this is the most common board found in UK dry-slope parks. The LTSBP contour keeps the tips up (essential for not snagging a mat), and the Grit-Grip™ Serration edges give you the only prayer of a grip you’ll have on synthetic bristles. Plus, it’s virtually indestructible.

2. The CRAPiTA Basement Dependent: As the name suggests, this deck was engineered specifically for those who failed to launch and artificial environments. It features a 'New Age' radial sidecut—tuned not for the freedom of the backcountry, but for the low-speed maneuverability required when navigating a stagnant holiday lift line or your own carpeted downstairs hallway.

3. The Combataleon Devil Twin (3CBT Technology): Dry-slope is the ultimate test of “edge-catch” anxiety. Combataleon’s Triple Base Technology (3CBT) lifts the contact points, making it the safest bet for sliding plastic without a trip to the ER. It turns a battleground of friendly fire into something almost... playful.

4. The Ride Warthog: The Warthog is a volume-shifted beast with a Cleave Edge—it has 50% more steel than a standard edge. When you’re inevitably gapping from a patch of “Epic-Turf” onto a section of raw Colorado granite, you’ll want that extra metal between you and the abyss.

5. The $20 Thrift Find: Let’s be unreal: The best board for dry-slope is the one you don’t care much about. Go find a mid-2000s Morrow or a beat-up Rossignol with a base-shots already included. File down the burrs, slap on some Scree-Slide Wax, and ride it until the base is burnt.

Read: New Shred Decks 2025/26

Support Your Local Big-Box Chain

Finding a deeply discounted deck at your speciality retailer when the season hasn’t even gotten underway isn’t going to happen. However, if you’ve got a mega strip mall within stone’s throw of your residence, then it’s all about timing and knowing which retailers treat snowboards as seasonal inventory they need to purge ASAP. While specialty shops offer better advice, community engagement, and vest in the future of our sport, the chains below are where you’ll find the steepest clearance markdowns—often reaching 40% to 60% off—especially during the “Boxing Day” period and “late-season” clearance (January–March).

1. REI Co-op

REI is the “gold standard” for box-store snowboarding. They carry premium brands and have a dedicated REI Outlet section.

• The Strategy: Members get a 10% dividend on full-price items, but the real deals are in the “SCD” (Sale, Clearance, and Discount) sections.

• Deepest Discounts: End-of-season sales often see boards marked down by 40% or more. Plus, their “Garage Sale” (now Resupply) is a goldmine for discounted returns and used gear.

2. Dick’s Sporting Goods / Public Lands

As one of the largest sporting goods retailers, Dick’s uses its massive scale to undercut prices.

• The Strategy: Check the “Clearance” page online. They often run “extra 20-40% off” clearance events that stack on top of already reduced prices.

• Best For: Beginner to mid-tier setups and high-volume brands.

3. Sierra (formerly Sierra Trading Post)

Owned by TJX (the same parent company as T.J. Maxx), Sierra is effectively a clearance house for outdoor brands.

• The Strategy: They don’t always have a massive board wall in every store, but their online inventory is a “closeout” heaven. They buy up last year’s overstock and sell it at deeply discounted prices year-round.

• Best For: Last year’s models and “Blem” (cosmetic blemish) boards.

4. Sun & Ski Sports

While they have a smaller footprint than REI, Sun & Ski acts like a big-box store with a specialty shop’s inventory. They carry a wide range of “core” brands.

• The Strategy: They are aggressive with “Snowboarding Deals” and clearance markdowns. Because they operate in many non-mountain states (like Texas), they often have leftover stock when mountain-state shops are sold out.

• Deepest Discounts: Look for their “Outlet” section where previous-season gear is often 50% off.

5. Epic Mountain Gear (Vail Resorts)

If you’re in Colorado or near a major Vail-owned resort, these stores function as the official “Big Box” for the Epic Pass ecosystem.

• The Strategy: Because they have huge warehouses of rental and demo gear, they host massive “tent sales” (like the Ski-Rex or Snow-a-Rama events).

• Deepest Discounts: You can find ex-demo boards (high-end boards used for one season) for $200–$300, which is a deeper discount than you’ll find on brand-new “sale” items elsewhere.

Read: Support Your Local Snowboard Shop

The Verdict

Until the high-pressure ridge over the West finally breaks, Scree-Slide™ is the only thing standing between you and a winter spent riding the couch, ouch. It’s the official wax of the Rock Board Rebellion.

We’re sorry (not sorry) for the radical reality of the mostly farcical ridiculousness to this post.

Watch: Quattro 1 - Candide Thovex

As “innovative” as the snowboarding industry once considered itself, the blunt truth is when you’re indoctrinated at the brand level, you collectively appreciate the smell of your own farts, and that seems to be enough for some. We’ve been sold a story of creative rebellion, youth against establishment, for decades, yet when I survey the scene online and assess outerwear offerings today I’m totally bored with the styles, colorways, and pattern prints. (And you should be, too …) While a good camo will always sell me, the rest feels like a monotonous replay of what we saw five years ago, five years before that, and so on. In this stagnant landscape of lackluster design and complacent creativity, where brands are comfortable resting on their heritage, something had to give. A shart was needed to shake the industry out of its self-congratulatory state of slumber and somebody’s else’s farts always stink.

Enter: Dope Snow

The name itself is a lightning rod. Mention it on a chairlift conversation and watch for the immediate eye-rolls from any of the old guard. For many in the core snowboarding world, the brand is a joke, a symbol of the “Insta-bro” aesthetic and a betrayal of the sport’s culture. For others, uhh, like the greater masses, it’s a reliable and resonate option: an affordable, stylish entry point into an expensive sport.

The debate is fierce, often flagrant, and to fully understand it, you have to look at both sides of the coin with an open mind …

The Case Against: The Fast Fashion Stigma

The criticisms are easy to find and often feel justified, echoing sentiments about a lack of authenticity. The most common complaint is that Dope is simply a “fast fashion” brand for shred. It’s not built on a decades-long legacy of pro riders or deep-rooted community events. Instead, it’s a direct-to-consumer model fueled by an aggressive social media marketing blitz. For riders who have followed the sport since the days of magazines and VHS tapes, this feels like a hollow business built on a culture it doesn’t truly belong to or deserve to be included in.

Then there’s the quality debate. While the gear is generally more than sufficient for a casual resort rider hitting the slopes a handful of times a season, it’s not made with the same premium, high-tech fabrics or the durability of top-tier brands. It’s not Burton-AK-bulletproof, but the thing is … it’s not supposed to be. Complaints about zippers failing after a season of use or seams coming undone are common, though not at all isolated to Dope; leading many to label it as gear for “Jerry” who are more focused on a clean look for a quick post than on shredding the gnar. Who cares.

The Case For: A Necessary “Disruption”

But here’s the perspective that the core and critics often miss. The traditional outerwear market has grown dangerously complacent. With few exceptions, endemic heritage brands are no longer “true to this”, and their design innovation has become bland. Their sales revenue models are so contingent upon wholesale channels and the buyers at major retailers inevitably gatekeeping, dictating what gets made from year to year when what the cool kids want is nonexistent.

This reliance on wholesale has driven a brutal marginalization of product. Anything that doesn’t sell well goes on close-out, and the consequence is a brutal sea of sameness, to then be repeated the following winter. You could remove any branding from a rack of jackets and pants from legacy companies and be unable to tell them apart by colorways and layups alone.

(As maligned as self-made millionaire Jamie Salter might be, he’s kept heritage brands alive, for better, when they would've otherwise died off.)

In this vast, boring sea, Dope found an opening. Their origin story, as I understand it, is a result of specialty Ride Shop, Sweden shop kids importing the what they interpreted to be compelling styles and then starting their own private label brand. In a surprisingly short period of time, a decade, give or take—it’s now, inarguably the predominant visible brand on-hill, having scaled faster than most in legacy could ever have imagined.

The question is, is this disdain any different from what we’ve seen before? I’m reminded of another brand that had held a title of scourge of the surf industry. It leveraged an aspirational culture, without belonging, completely fabricated, in fact, with lifestyle products first sold to the Midwest kid and then seen on the streets of Huntington by local youth who otherwise could buy into core but opted not. Hollister, for a time, served a severe beatdown to beach and surf brands, proving more successful sales-wise than the collective of “West Coast” labels. At least the Dope Snow consumer is active, getting sendy after it.

Their direct-to-consumer (DTC) model isn’t hindered by buyers not buying into particular styles; it’s a direct line of alignment with its community. But let’s ask a more fundamental question: Do core athletes even move the needle with sales anymore? Internet influencers are for optics and often pre-paid regardless of a real conversion rate. The truth is, most consumers of Dope Snow likely don’t follow, or even know, the names of current professional riders. Jamie Lynn … Who’s she?

Some seasons back, riding a chairlift in Ohio with a chubby kid who’d been riding for three or four years. He’d seen one video once, but couldn’t remember the name of it. He’d never seen a magazine. And while he had a favorite snowboarder, he also couldn’t remember his name. I thought to describe Shaun White, and he said, “Yup... that's him.”

Dope’s success proves that a direct line to the consumer is now more powerful than a traditional endorsement. I’d venture that those who buy Dope aren’t the core snowboard shop customers to begin with or the Winter X-Games athletes, but the Winter X-Games attendees. For the price point, Dope offers access to protective, semi-technical outerwear and draws more people into a passion unitedly shared by all of us. Their colorways and pattern range, with forward styles riffed from L1 Outerwear (who themselves co-opted Holden), prove that you don’t need a decades-long legacy to create something sort of new-ish. Compare their following on Instagram to that of Volcom. Single- to-multi-sport focused, ten years of history to 30, and Dope takes the lead on followers (if for real), 1.5M to 1.4M. It’s success of a different model and that’s okay. Will the last as long, time will tell.

What’s in a Name?

The core of any industry sits at the top of a pyramid, representing the most influential and authentic participants. These are the trendsetters and innovators who might set the culture. Within the Action Sports world, a brand’s name is often a reflection of its positioned personality.

Consider some of the names that have been launched over the years but now have heritage brand status: Airblaster, Jib 686 Enterprises (now 686), Soup Kitch’n, Tonawawa, Mambosok, Crazy Banana, Liberace Technologies (now Lib Tech), TransWorld, et cetera. These names may sound ridiculous to the average person, but to insiders, they’re perfectly understood and appreciated. They’re not focus-group tested; they were born from a genuine, creative, and anti-corporate energy. The very fact that these names are a bit terrible or strange is what makes them great—they prove that the brand isn’t trying to appeal to everyone.

This is where the debate gets interesting. While a brand’s name can signal its allegiance, everything gets diluted and kinda labeled lame without true arbiters of cool. I’ve checked out Dope, and honestly, I don’t see myself dropping in ever. But there are lessons to be considered from its success.

The Last Word:

The existence of Dope is a wake-up call. Disruption, innovation, and authenticity are all tired terms flown and flagged willy-nilly, though when you see it … it’s obvious. Is Dope any of that? Nope. It’s none of it. It is not real disruption, but a symptom of a broken and complacent system. It’s a brand that has simply done better than the bare minimum to succeed in a market where the once-great legacy brands kind of fail to even try. Whether you’re a purist who believes in core brands, or a newcomer who just wants to get on the mountain in a semblance of steez, the market has spoken. And if legacy doesn’t start listening, they’ll be left behind by a younger, more dynamic market that values style, accessibility, and a break from the monotonous.