Dear Freeskier,

I've got a bone to pick with you.

I was happily making waves in the New York alpine racing circuit for 10 years before you came into my life. I trained every single day and went to gym before school, raced every weekend, wore my speed suit, black pants and tight-fitting jacket with pride, duct taped guards to my shins, you name it. And then I picked up my first issue of Freeskier. Two years later, exit race scene, enter low-rise pants, slouchy hat, and, horror of horrors, my first pair of twin tips.

You see, the problem with racers reading your magazine is that from the minute we see the first gnarly drop into face deep powder or some ridiculous spinning jump thingy we don't even have a name for, we become aware of this ridiculous lack of shred in our lives. For us East-coast racers, life is one run, one course, over and over and over. And powder? On the rare day we get it, our heavy skis sink like rocks into it. Not fun.

Freeskier opens up a whole new world of possibilities for the race community. Patterned pants, boots that aren't two sizes too small, and glades? Heaven forbid I'm comfortable, look good, and can ski terrain that might scratch my precious, agonizingly retouched edges.

I bought my first pair of center-set twin tips this year, Shadow by Line, and have actually discovered for the first time the mountain I've been skiing on. And you know what? Some of the best terrain is off-roads. I'm happier skiing than I have been since I picked up my first pair of Fischers. And I even took the pole guards off my slalom poles. Sure, I fall harder than ever, but I'm also shredding harder than ever, and having a blast doing it.

Keep sending Freeskier magazine to race kids – the dark side is, in this case, the side to be on.

Shred on!

Sincerely,
Cassandra Jenis