Aspen Snowmass Goes Gonzo
The gang invades the Elk Mountains for the 2019 Ski Test
WORDS • DONNY O’NEILL | PHOTOS • MATT POWER
We were barreling through the Roaring Fork Valley when the itch kicked in. We knew we’d get our frosty fix soon, as the army of black clouds began to march over the Elk Mountains from the west, sending temperatures into a nosedive on what was a warm, spring-like day in Colorado. Miles ahead of us, the cobblestone paths of Snowmass Village were eerily quiet for a Saturday afternoon in March. A few wide-eyed vacationers milled around the shops, some enjoyed beverages on restaurant patios, while the rest concluded their day on the slopes. The tranquil atmosphere was fleeting, however.
Attracted by the brain-bending scent of brewing precipitation, we, the ski-crazed gang, rocketed down Highway 82 past the locales of Carbondale, Basalt, El Jebel and the gonzo ghosts of Woody Creek before we screeched onto Brush Creek Road toward rising white slopes. We ripped onto Carriage Way, a certified Mad Max horde donning tattered denim jackets, snake-eyed sunglasses and a variety of prints ranging from faux-fur leopard spots to blinding neon rainbows. Some piloted pickup trucks with metal ski racks perched on top, others rambled down the road in conversion vans, the rest drove an assortment of vehicles fully-equipped for mountainous travel.
The majority of our ranks hailed from ski towns in Colorado, Utah and Wyoming, some of us from as far as Vermont and New Hampshire. The drivers were ski bums, former pros and industry legends, all gathered to celebrate our wintry dance with gravity. The last to round the corner, the alpha of the ski brigade, was our monstrous RV sporting a hand-drawn illustration depicting shredders daffying, Wong-banging and powder surfing, with the word FREESKIER emblazoned on the side.
The RV’s arrival signified the commencement of the annual ritual dubbed FREESKIERFEST, the ski world’s biggest gear test. When our entourage of vehicles came to a halt, veteran participants quickly transported hundreds of pairs of yet-to-be-released skis from the cars, vans and trucks into metal crates arranged on the slope as white flakes fell from an angry sky splitting at the seams, ready to burst. Now, the horde waited impatiently—knowing that the intoxicating lure of impending snow would soon send us into an outburst of prayers and dances to our god, Üllr. Our gaze was set uphill through the worsening storm, when four headlights emerged from above, permeating the falling snow with two snowcats growling behind them. In a blur, two skilled drivers motored the machines toward the ski-filled crates, maneuvered their joysticks, slowly scooped the metal units up, reversed and rumbled back into the storm, leaving nothing but track marks behind. The snow now fell in buckets, and FREESKIERFEST was underway.
The ski gang awoke the next morning to piercing blue skies and a snow report that read 10 inches. Rabid and foaming at the mouth, we raced to the lifts, weaved in and out of startled bystanders, stirred into frenzy by the fresh powder’s aroma, the frigid winter air infiltrating our nostrils, freezing our lungs and invigorating our spirits. After a bump from the Village Express, the testers high-tailed it to the Big Burn chair, the base of operations for the week. From there, we ransacked bone-dry Colorado powder, up to our waists in spots, from first chair until last on the fattest skis at our disposal.
The rest of the week followed suit. We clicked into narrowing waist widths as the week progressed and the sunshine and skier traffic chewed up and morphed Sunday night’s bounty of snow into chop. The crew of skiers, whose brains bulged out of their heads with substantial knowledge of the inner workings of the planks they attached to their feet, turned to their smartphones following each ravenous race down the mountain, and recorded observations about each ski.
Did it carve like an obsidian blade or a butter knife? Was the ride smooth or did it feel like you were a cowboy holding onto an unruly rodeo bull for dear life? Did it plane above the snow surface like a speedboat or dive into the depths like a submarine? Could it bend and flex like a fluttering ballerina or was it stiff like a glass of rye whiskey, neat? Did it hold up to the demands of a wide variety of skiing exploits or was its focus more specific? The answers to these questions form the heart of the gear bible you hold in your hands.
The 2018 ski test was a microcosm of skiing culture. Our zealous pack of skiers were a constant threat to send it—on the slopes and in the bars—from 9:30 a.m. until 3:30 a.m, for five days straight. We were skiing’s Hell’s Angels, but instead of metal road machines between our thighs, we had strips of wood, metal and carbon attached to our feet. The tribe of testers donned denim and neon uniforms, continuing their mission of riding from ski town to ski town, plundering pow, cranking tunes and spreading stoke, all with a fiery attitude typical of the ski fanatic, leaving carved turns in their wake.
Alas, the highlight of the week came on Wednesday. Nothing can beat the beautiful, organized chaos that occurs amidst a ceremonious human slalom. Hundreds joined our swarm down Snowmass’ Wineskin trail, where humans stood as slalom gates and the shrill hooting and clanking of ski poles by its participants struck terror into the hearts of civilians across the entirety of the mountain. Bystanders watched in awe from the chairlift above as skiers navigated within inches of one another down the slope. It was a truly self-aware display of skiing’s essential and non-essential dichotomy; its true nature.
When all was said and done, the savage clan—whose balls-to-the-wall skiing is matched only by their dedication to the testing craft—had compiled an Everest’s worth of data. At FREESKIERFEST’s conclusion, the ski gang moved on to another ski town to continue spreading the skiing gospel. What’s left of their Snowmass conquest can be found on our online Buyer’s Guide. Numerous comments and scores accompany every ski that you’ll peruse as you browse. Grab your denim, put on your shades and behold the top ranked skis of 2019.
