Every spring when the snow starts to melt, pants are replaced with boardies and boots with flip flops. Cameras are flown back from around the world to Wyoming. While most people are out enjoying the summer fun, we're still focused on skiing, deep in powder, spinning off cliffs. Often times we work ourselves into a late night haze. Long evenings are spent arguing over how legit a shot is or what song works best.
Throughout the summer most of the featured athletes come through the TGR edit suite to work on their segments. Dana Flahr drives down from Whistler, Erik Roner stops in a few times (I think mostly for Pica's mexican food), Dylan Hood catches a few good couch waves, and Sage never drives in without his mountain bike.
We like to think that we're working our asses off, and sometimes sitting in an edit suite with no windows isn't fun. But, once the movie is finally done, we all sit back, cheers, have a swig, and enjoy our own private premiere of Lost and Found.
** Sage sourcing some tracks**
** Roner pops in for a few days. Always satisfied with the progress.**
** Sage and Dylan:
toy gun, a must have edit suite prop.**
** Dana Flahr is in there somewhere with Jack (edit bay 1)**
** Dana stoked for his first natty bath experience**
** the boys of summer: Nielsen (supervising producer), Hood, Herriger (cine) dropping in to a phat natty bath**
** TGR bathroom: we haven’t had house cleaners in over 2 months. Quidado dude!**
** Eric Hansen: Places the finishing touches on Lost and Found**
** Fresh air break: Josh Nielson, Eric Hansen, myself, and Scott Fisher**
I give up. I admit defeat. After twenty-two years I realize that my dream of becoming a pro skier is over. Never will I grace the cover of Powder Mag and you will definitely not see me in a segment of Almost Ablaze. That’s fine—life has other plans for me. As I reflect back on why this happened I have to place the blame on two people: my mom and dad. Not because they didn’t sign me up for ski school or drive me up to the mountains of New England each winter, but because they named me
“Duck!” my partner, Ben, told me as he tightened the rope that connected us. I buried my head into my chest as a waterfall of heavy, cold snow cascaded around me. It collected everywhere there was space: in between my sunglasses, down my jacket, and in my helmet. "Is this what a river rock feels like as water flows undisturbed by its presence?” I thought to myself as I waited for it to end.My existence on this wall of ice on the final pitch of the Chevy Couloir on the Grand Teton was
Cody Townsend and company head uphill towards the Aemmer Couloir. Bjarne Salen photo. An average day on the job for Cody Townsend used to involve being whisked atop a peak or ridge by a helicopter, ripping pow all the way down, and then doing it all over again. These days, however, a day on the job is more likely to include a pre-sunrise wake-up, a long hike, some mediocre-at-best skiing, and then another long hike back to the car. What could possibly trigger such a