We knew we were traveling to a different country when highway billboards boldly stated “neuter your pets, weird friends and family.” Landmarks were named after little known pioneers and wolf spectating areas were common tourist attractions. I knew then that we had arrived in beautiful British Columbia.

With the team of a few pro skiers, industry professionals, backcountry enthusiasts and an “off-duty” guide and mentor assembled we hopped on a helicopter and were transported to a high alpine hut nestled between the powdery peaks of the Esplanades in Canada’s Selkirk Mountain Range.

The tiny Meadow Lodge was our basecamp for a week. We cooked gourmet meals, played intense games of Jenga, and devised ways to catch the neighborhood pine martin while soaking in the sauna. As we planned our mission for the following day nestled around the wood stove, our goal was established to schralp every peak viewable from our cabin window,

Blissful guitar playing roused us from our bunk beds each morning. We slapped on our skis and shook out “high altitude headaches” by skiing lines out our back door: 2,000-vertical feet of creamy powder, pillows and tight trees. Hungry for more, we continued trudging up waist-deep skin tracks following pole-drawn snow inscriptions: “Beer and babes ahead” or “tacos and tequila .” Whether tag-teaming the wind-blown Jailibi peak, or figure-eighting perfect powder fields, our BC trip was progressing perfectly. We found untracked chutes, incessant face shots and friendly pillow lines thanks to a few fresh centimeters each day. As our trip was rapidly coming to a close we got the treat of a sizeable dump.

Like always the snow comes the day your forced to leave. But when your only transportation is a helicopter stuck at a rainy base, sometimes your luck prevails. Thanks to Mother Nature, or the elusive pine martin, we enjoyed an extra day in the Esplanades. Heading out into the blizzard, the snow was deep. Chest deep. We took laps on the signature trail, aptly named the Front Door. The thick Canadian snow plastered our goggles and filled in our tracks making a blank slate for each consecutive run. It emboldened us to try lines we hadn’t entirely ruled out, but didn’t have the courage to try before. We exhausted ourselves, knowing that this kind of snow hadn’t been seen in our respective ski towns. It’s the kind of skiing that you dream about, and we look forward to our next adventure into the Great White North.

Kebnekaise is situated in 67th latitude at northern hemisphere in Sweden. Kebnekaise is a name for the highest mountain in Sweden, being 2107 meters high (depending on winter, since the peak is ice covered). The area provides superb backcountry skiing and mountaineering faraway from ski resorts.

Kebnekaise Mountain Lodge lies at the foot of these mountains and provides a full service hotel with accommodation, internet, sauna, small shop and a restaurant. The atmosphere is classic, as it has 100 years history that has been preserved with good taste. To get there, you need to travel 20 km from the nearest road, either by skiing or with snowmobile transport or helicopter.

In normal winter, the season starts at October and lasts until the beginning of June. You can expect to find dry snow occasionally in May from higher parts of the mountains. We found 50 cm dry snow up from 1000 meters. The mountains are covered with couloirs, steeps, open bowls, glaciers… you name it.

There are numerous options to the mountains summits, but as we were situated in the hotel, we chose to take the "östra leden", Eastern route, as it seemed to be the fastest option. The whole thing took about 10 hours, including a short crossing through glacier and easy climbing with fixed ropes. The top is an ice-covered alpine peak, with a big mountain view throughout Swedish Lapland. Skiing was untypical for this time of year—we were skiing pow. I was skiing on my Carbon Megawatts and as they were floating like feathers I couldn´t help but smile.

A word of warning: Take time, as the weather can be really unpredictable. We were constantly looking for the forecasts from yr.no, that usually is reliable source for Scandinavia, but the weather seemed to live its own life here. On one day, I literally had to take a duck dive when I was skinning up a ridge as I was hit by a gust. We experienced high winds, snowstorm, sunshine and anything between.

Powder skiing in May? Totally recommended, and possible too.

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans"
-John Lennon

After my trip filming with Sherpa Cinemas at Snowwater Heli and Valhalla Cats, Callum Pettit and I caravanned to Kelowna, ditched our cars in the long term parking and hopped on a plane up to Terrace, a town in northern British Columbia, for a 2 week-long film shoot for Black Diamond. Terrace had been described to me as the "Pillowland of all pillows." Coming from Utah, I haven't skied very many pillow lines in my lifetime but I've heard people rave about them, so I was excited to see what all the hype was about. Our filmers were Mike Hagadorn and Rex Lint, two awesome guys from Colorado. We had 4 heli days and 12 cat days scheduled—it was lining up to be a really cool trip.

Unfortunately, with us came an uncharacteristic warm spell and rain. We waited out the rain for days and days, until it cleared. We grabbed our gear and headed out, only to find the rain had made a ½-inch thick raincrust on most of the terrain. Even though we had no wind and perfect sunny weather, it's difficult to film skiing and make it look good if sheets of ice are flying at the camera instead of blower pow.

We all felt restless and uneasy as our 2 and a half-week time slot was already half over and we hadn't even gone skiing yet. The more trips I go on as a "professional athlete," the more I realize that there is a lot of time spent inside, waiting for Mother Nature to provide us with the conditions that allow us to "do our job." The challenge begins when you feel the pressure of outside expectations-when you get paid to go somewhere amazing and produce a result, in this instance, getting footage of pillows and pow, you start feeling worried, guilty, and anxious when you have to scratch around to try and produce something that isn't naturally happening. You think to yourself "well, the trip will be good once we get good snow," or "man, it'll be so nice if we get a break in the weather." Spending so much time inside waiting, letting the weather dictate our everyday activity and having no control over whether or not we get anything productive done can wear down the team, and it's hard to stay positive. I found myself in a constant state of waiting for something better to happen, and I realized that this type of trip was an opportunity, like a forced meditation, to try enjoy the present moment regardless of what activity I was doing. Even if it wasn't something I would have chosen to do, or didn't have anything to do with being productive, I began to stop living in my hopes for the future, and just be. Get outside and have fun in the rain.

When we did get up to get glimpse of the terrain accessed by Northern Escape Heliskiing, it took my breath away. It wasn't pillows I was looking at though—it was big steep faces and impressive spine walls. It reminded me of Alaska. It was tough to see all these amazing lines that were right in front of our face but not be able to ski them because the snow was so bad.

At about day 8 a storm came in, giving us hope for better snow while we were again forced inside to wait it out. Callum had to leave for another trip, and a BD athlete I hadn't met before, Thomas Gaisbacher, flew in from Austria. We all relocated—instead of staying at the base lodge and waiting for good weather for the heli to fly, we went to "Catland," a tiny shack mid-mountain made mostly of plywood and 2x4's, with a couple generators and a small kitchen. It was just big enough for our group and two cat drivers, who took weeklong shifts staying at this shack maintaining and driving the snowcats. This was a better option for us, since we could head out in the cat no matter what the weather was doing and hopefully find some workable snow.

In Catland, we found the pillow zones I had head about. They were absolutely beautiful lines, some of them close to 700 vertical feet of 5-25 foot consistent drops that went on and on and on. Thomas and I were blown away—the lines were so beautiful to look at. While it was frustrating having such bad snow conditions and not be able to fire up the lines that were in front of us, I took a step back and enjoyed being outside, and was grateful everyone in the group had a great sense of humor and despite the challenging conditions we were all out having a great time together.

Our patience paid off, and towards the end of the trip the storm finally dropped off a little bit of fresh pow. The conditions weren't good enough to ski the legendary lines, but they were good enough to get some footage and get some faceshots and refresh everyone's spirit. Heading home, I realized that living the life of a skier, trips don't always go how you want them to, and it's not always about what you do once things start falling into place. Sometimes it's about what you do when things are seemingly falling apart. If you wait out the whole trip wishing for something different, you miss out on the amazing moments that you are already in. You miss taking advantage of the places, or views, or people that make up part of the lifestyle of being a traveling skier. It's not always about skiing the best pow or most impressive lines. Sometimes is just about being where your feet are and making the most of it. Like in life I think. You don't have control over every aspect of your life and things don't always go according to plan, but that's exactly what life is. It IS those moments that you don't plan out.

With that being said, I had an amazing time in Terrace despite the snow conditions, and really hope to go back and ski some of those lines that are now visiting me in my dreams!

BD athlete Will Cardamone and The Yurt Project Episode #3 from Black Diamond Equipment on Vimeo.

Winter in the Wasatch has been a bit below average. We've had some great days and some dry spells. In an effort to find new terrain and quell the never ending hunger for fluff, the Powderwhore crew headed north to Canada. We were quickly turned back at the border, but that's another story.

In travels and life it's good to have a plan B. We found ourselves near the Cascades and that seemed like a better option than the 15 hour drive home. Two years ago some friends had ventured into the very remote Holden Village on Lake Chelan. Very little info about skiing in this area could be found. The intrigue of this Lutheran retreat and the 9" of new snow were all we needed to lure us in.

BD athlete Noah Howell skiing at Holden Village in the Washington Cascades from Black Diamond Equipment on Vimeo.

I woke up today happy and content. Yesterday opened up the doors to a whole new world. I have dreamed of skiing spines in Alaska for years. It has always seemed to be something only the most elite athletes and film crews could experience with massive amount of budget.  In previous trips up to Alaska, I sat through heavy wind and snow or clear skies with wind scoured peaks, packed with variable ice and snow… not the most ideal conditions, but yesterday was a different story.

We woke up to a beautiful clear day, not a cloud in the sky. Each day, with Stellar Media, we rotate athletes to jump in the heli with Will and Jeff, the cameramen. It was Hayden Price and my turn. Neither of us had really ever skied Alaska with good snow and blue skies, and we've definitely never skied any sort of sloughing spines. I look over to Hayden and he was in a full grin ear-to-ear as we took off from the airport. We were flying in and everything was looking gnarly, steep and intimidating. We flew deeper and deeper into the mountains and things started to look a bit more appealing. The mountains still looked like they could just eat us up with all the massive walls and huge glaciers. We set down for a view of our first run and Will informs us that we are just going to kick the doors off right away and shoot from the heli—why not!? Let just do it right first thing! So Hayden, Chris Colter, our guide, and I were flown to the top of our line and dropped off. The heli went to pick up Will and Jeff to strap them in for the aerial angle.

Hayden had made his way down to his starting point around the backside of the peak and I was standing buckled up and ready at the top with Colter. Meanwhile the heli is circling above us with Will and Jeff hanging out, facedown, ready to push record. The heli came around as Colter radioed to Hayden to drop. I could see the cold smoke trailing behind him lit up by the sun. He disappeared into the shade below, a nice clean line. A great way to start the day. The snow was perfect. The heli flew around above my head. Staring straight up, Will gave me the four kicks that meant drop. It was my first taste of the fresh smooth and creamy. I wasn't scared or nervous, just calm and at ease. This is what I have skied my whole life in hopes of doing. Skiing in Alaska where I can open it up with confidence in the snow and in myself. And not only was I skiing in AK, now there was a helicopter circling over with two guys hanging out filming…! I skied out the bottom to Hayden, vibrating and shaking with stoke and excitement. With this warm-up under our belt we were off to the spines across the valley.

We were dropped off for an inspection of our next run. At first everything looked insanely steep like it would gobble you up whole, but with a second take I saw a line that went through and I felt confident that it would be a perfect introduction to the world of spines and slough. Will and Jeff were left at the barbie and the pilot flew us over giving us one last good look from the air before we were dropped off on the top of FFAA. I was up first. The top section was going to be technical and after that it was all about managing my slough and finding the clean route through and down. In my head I was just thinking stay right and keep it moving!

I reached my starting point and was given the signal to drop. After my first couple turns the slough was moving. Each turn was a learning experience in itself. I was understanding and seeing where, how and why the snow was moving the way it was. A few moves I made pushed the snow onto my turns below, which resulted in having to slow down to let the slough move by. As I kept cutting right, I could hear the snow ripping by me loudly. The snow was so light and cold that it was exploding up to my left. With a continuous watch on the snow around me I saw that I was clear of my slough and I could just open it up and rip it down to the glacier below. I straight lined out to the flats and looked back at 2,500 vertical feet of spines, FFAA. I was a little bit in shock that I had finally come to Alaska and had my own hands on experience with the spines I had always heard about way up North. It's a satisfying and rewarding feeling when you successfully ride the wave… It’s a beautiful and humbling way to hone into the moment and experience moving with the elements. It's a true feeling of gravity when you are skiing steep terrain with snow moving all around you. Whoa. As I stood at the bottom I pondered all the possibilities, all the runs, all the spines and mountains and the lines. It gave me the rush and sensation that anything is possible… if you set your mind to it. So why not dream big, as big as you can even imagine? Look at where I am and what we are skiing!? Dreams do come true—it just takes time, patience and devotion.

Hayden skied a similar line down… same thing, learning from each and every turn. Watching from below I could barley even see him. He was like an ant, just a little dot on a massive wall, riding the wave, working with the motion and flowing gracefully as the snow cascaded down by his side. He slid right on up to me with a look of satisfaction and contentment. And our guide followed us with ease, snowboarding down shortly after.

Stoked and pumped full of adrenaline we cruised down along the glacier laughing, hooting and hollering. The cameramen skied down the other side to meet us for a pick up. While we waited for the heli to fly the clients and other groups around we were hungry for more and right above us sat a mini spine zone. We were absolutely freezing and needed to warm up so we figured lets go get it. We booted up the left side, which was probably about about 800 vert.

With a little bit of exercise and some amazing runs I felt like I was on top of the world. Each run I had more and more understanding of the mountains and the best way to ski down them. This time I picked a simple spine that I could navigate easily by pushing my slough from one side to the other. By the time I had made two turns, the cold smoke had clouded my whole run. I trusted my instincts and kept moving as the billowing settled and boom a little air out the bottom… smooth as butter and second spine line in the bag. Hayden was on the same page, he flashed his line with an awesome save through his slough.

We all gathered together quickly at the bottom after hearing that we were next for pick up. The vibes were high and we were frothing for more.

On the flight back we looked at everything with a different perspective. Oooo look at this, look at that. I'd love to ski those and I'd love to ski that! This was the day that opened my eyes up to a whole new world. With a day like this my dreams have expanded. I'll be up here for the next few weeks… fingers crossed the good weather keeps up! I can't wait for the next day I have up in the Alaskan mountains here in Haines. Stay tuned for more updates!!

The day after the Revi comp I continued my Canadian journey, this time in search of fresh snow with Sherpas Cinema. I shook off the remains of the after-party, got in the truck and headed three hours south to Valhalla Powder Cats where I found my sister Angel making a plan with fellow BD athlete Callum Pettit, Yes snowboarder DCP, and three Sherpas filmers. We were delving deep into the zone, and they decided to develop a war plan on paper, depicting athletes combining sleds and skiing to get a line as other athletes sledded further out to another zone. It looked like efficiency was the name of the game to me.

The following morning Angel and I jumped on my sled and rallied to the drop zone where we threw our skins on and began trekking in the morning sun. As we were skinning we realized that we had never gone touring together. We are always on different schedules, whether its competing, filming or just traveling, and we never do it together. So the day was spent laughing together and enjoying the short window we had together. Super fun day in the mountains.

Everyone split ways the next day, So I stayed with two Sherpas filmers and spent a few days sledding in Nelson, BC. After this our little crew trooped up to Retallack Catskiing, shooting cable cams through the trees. It was fun, but the best part was the cat driver. I overheard him telling the guide "Yeah man, they got my back. And I gave 'em shotguns so no one can fuck with 'em."  This drew my attention of course, so he proceeded to show me his huge Ewok tramp stamp. Stunning graphics. "The empire couldn't have fucked with 'em if they had shotguns maaaaaan." Fair enough buddy, fair enough.

Although I wished to stay and chat with our Rastafarian, six-times divorced, two-time open heart surgery patient, Ewok-loving, tooth-missing cat driver, we pushed on again. This time arriving back in the town of Revelstoke. Here we met up with Callum and DCP again, and new crew members Blake Jorgenson and Kye Petersen joined us. We spent roughly two and a half weeks flying with Eagle Pass Heli. I should spare you all the details about skiing bottomless blower pow every day, pillows on pillows, hot tubbing at the mansion-like lodge. It's a really rough life sometimes.

On the real side, it was one of the best trips ever. Incredible guides let us shred pretty much wherever we wanted, snow conditions were pretty much good somewhere at anytime, and I got to ski with some of the best skiers and snowboarders out there. Having DCP was super fun.  A trip with a snowboarder is almost a full different type of skiing. They look at terrain differently... more like I like to look at it.

Thanks to everyone who helped out on this trip, Eagle Pass especially, and Sherpas Cinema for putting it together!

And I guess I'll stop there... Don't want to spoil the movie!!

— Johnny C.

I spent the first part of the new year on tour throughout the wild west, in search of fresh snow and new terrain.  After flying home from BD’s new ski factory with a sample pair of Carbon Megawatts in December, I started with a holiday storm in the Southern San Juans of Colorado, skiing backcountry laps with my old man. Next it was up to Jackson Hole to celebrate the New Year with old friends and ski a few days in Teton Park. From there I made the haul to the West Coast to help my girlfriend start grad school in San Francisco, then ducked up to the Sierra to check out the Tahoe scene and later the big lines and hot springs of the East Side.

BD employee Evan Bouchier reports on a whirlwind tour of skiing, speed-riding and proto testing from Black Diamond Equipment on Vimeo.

After several weeks I started to work my way back to the Rockies, with a quick stopover in the Ruby Mountains of Nevada along the way. The whispers are true, the Rubies are truly world class, and I was able to ride a cool line and coincidentally ran in to an old kayaking buddy and his crew who guide for the local heli-ski operation. Then I pushed through the night up to Ketchum, Idaho, to catch Idaho speedriders Dan Hoffman and Adam Majors for a weekend of sled-skiing and speedriding up in their backyard mecca of the Pioneer Range. Finally, I made it back to Jackson for some more powder skiing and speedriding at the Village and up on the pass. Then it was down to SLC to check in with the ski team at BD before launching back out into orbit to work on ski production.  I just landed in Hong Kong and returned to BD Asia, where we’re turning the crank to begin the first season of full production from the new ski factory. After, I will be headed up to the mountains of Northwest China to explore terrain in the border regions of Tibet. No rest for the weary but it’s a good ride!

BD athlete Will Cardamone and the Yurt Project—Episode #2 from Black Diamond Equipment on Vimeo.

Whether we are ready for it or not, the earth spins and time continues, bringing a change of seasons and a change in rhythms. Some animals burrow, some fly south, some grow thicker coats, and some like me grin like fools and slap bindings on their skis. Barely ready, in late November my brother and I finished a house we built with our mom and dad. Wrapping up a 3 year project brought a sense of accomplishment and a welcome shift in focus. Birds leaving the nest, my brother and I moved into this new house together and welcomed winter, wondering where our flight patterns would take us this new season.

I've been skiing since I was 2, which is before I can really remember. I competed in ski racing from when I was 8 until when I was 18. Then I decided to follow skiing down a different path and entered the Freeskiing World Tour, and competed in big mountain skiing from when I was 19 until I was 21. Competition has always been my focus and the way I've expressed myself through skiing. This winter, at 22, I've stepped into a new realm. Two major film companies, Sherpas Cinema and Teton Gravity Research, asked if I could film this winter with them. After quite a bit of thought, I put competing on hold and decided I like skiing sunny powder more than flat-light crud.

To bring in the new year I headed up to British Columbia for a 2 week trip with Sherpas Cinema to film for their upcoming release, "Into the Mind." Our first location was at Snowwater Heli, a heliskiing/cat operation just outside of Nelson, BC. The crew was small-Dave Mossop, producer/cinematographer extraordinaire, photographer Bryan Ralph, fellow BD athlete Callum Pettit, and myself. We were up early the first morning and started out filming from the helicopter, with a sunrise session catching the pink light in the Kootenays. It was similar to my previous film experience, my trip with TGR up to AK last spring, where they film an entire line from the helicopter, from the top of a peak all the way down the bottom, and that's the shot. It's similar in many ways to competition skiing, where the entire run counts, and you establish a flow that starts at the beginning and continues the whole way down. You get a turn or two at the start to get things warmed up. This isn't the only way to film skiing though-often times, if there is weather and you can't fly the heli, or if you aren't filming from a helicopter, you do what are called "on-slopes", where the cameraman is on the slope with you, and usually it's only a short section of a line. Sometimes it's just one cliff, sometimes it's just one turn.

These on-slopes were a new thing for me, bringing unexpected challenges. Someone just described to me those one-turn, immediate moment shots like this: Pretend you are a house cat. You have nothing to do all day, you lay around in the sunshine, being still and motionless. But as soon as you see that bird or that mouse, you have to pounce as quick as lightning. No time to warm up. Just BAM. Immediately ready. That's what your skiing has to be like. No turns, no time to get in the rhythm. Just your full athleticism and potential unleashed by the click of the camera shutter.

For the next part of the journey, Callum, Mossop, and I headed over to Valhalla Powder Cats, a catskiing operation an hour and a half away from Snowwater. We met up with some more filmers and another athlete, David Porscheron. One of the coolest things about working with the Sherpas is their vision for the shots. They've got a very clear idea of the kind of shots they want in their movie, and it's obvious when you watch their movies that this vision is what it takes to create the standout movies that they produce. However, it also means they take a lot of time to set the shots up, and often times each athlete would only get like 3 shots in per day. That adds a lot of pressure to each time you go, because if you mess the shot up in any way-time it wrong, turn a little bit in the wrong spot from where the cameras are pointed, have bad technique- that moment is ruined and all the time spent setting it up was in vain.

It was clear that both Callum and David have had a lot of practice with on-slope filming, and they are both super talented riders. It was an honor to work with them and watch and learn from them. They are well-practiced house cats. The last day of the trip, my brother John who is also filming with the Sherpas drove over from Revelstoke to start his trip with them, and we had a sibling shred/film day. It was one of the coolest days of my life. I showed him my newly aquired expert sledding skills and we got to ski a couple lines together. The camera's were on an opposing ridge so they had a clear shot of our full lines and we all got to have the first long film lines in awhile (yay!) David and Callum picked lines off of one ridge, and John and I skinned another 45 minutes out the ridge together to a sub-ridge with lines we had picked out the night before from pictures. Standing at the top with my brother and some sunshine, endorphins out and smiles high, we got to send each other off with the cameras rolling. Every sister's dream, right?

The next stop for me is Terrace, in Northern British Columbia, for a shoot for next year's Black Diamond digital catalog! Stay tuned for a trip report from "The Land of the Pillows."

At the Prestige Hotel in downtown Golden in mid January a mix of athletes, photographers and cinematographers gathered together late in the evening, to organize gear for a week at the Vista Lodge. A Stellar Media and Dubsatch Collective collaboration, we are shooting for several different projects. There will be a mix of edits coming out as well as two different feature length films. The Vista is one of Golden Alpine Holiday's three lodges in the heart of the Canadian Rockies, located at 7,050 feet.

With little sleep and droopy eyes we drove out to the staging area on Rogers Pass. We made our introductions while we locked up our cars and piled up our gear ready for the heli pick up. The chopper arrived, dropping off the previous group after their week in the woods. They were all vibrant and radiating with huge smiles and stoke. Their stories of fresh snow and endless terrain fired us up to get out there. This was going to be an incredible week with a good crew and nothing to do but wake up and go exploring!!!

For the next week we did just that...We woke up to a deliciously prepared breakfast, checked the skies and would decide our plan for the day, either go up high into the alpine in the sun or if it was snowing and overcast we'd ski down into the pillowy trees. A simple life. For the first couple of days, it was beautiful and the sun was out. This allowed us to ski above the cabin skiing mini pillow zones and fun featured lines. It was gorgeous and everyone was stoked on life, feeling good from all the hiking around. By mid week we had skied most of the closer terrain above us, the clouds were moving in and the snow began to fall. This sent us down below the cabin to a whole new zone...full of poppers and boppers. One by one we pin balled our way through the pillows lapping until moonrise. We hiked back home one ski in front of the other singing, hooting and hollering at the top of our lungs. Will Wissman's opera could be heard from miles and miles away. There isn't anything like a killer day out in the mountains. We were all completely content. At the end of the day we hauled our water up from the lake. The water is so clean and fresh we just drink it as it is. We would strip off all the wet clothes and hop right into the sauna, melting right into the wooden seats, after the long days of filming and skiing, into full relaxation mode.

Allison the cook always had a beautifully prepared meal ready waiting on the table. And yes, each night's dinner was followed by a home cooked dessert! We were living like rockstars! Wake up, ski pow, come home, sauna, eat dinner, play games, pass out and do it all over again the next day. We were blessed with fresh snow and blue skies the last days. The end came too soon and no one wanted to leave. This place was heaven. Unfortunately all good things come to an end at some point, but there's always another adventure ahead. With the Dub/Stellar combination sparks were flying and connections were happening. I am excited for all the good times to come. For now I will let the storms take me along for the ride, keeping it positive and real.

BD athlete Will Cardamone and The Yurt Project Episode #1 from Black Diamond Equipment on Vimeo.

The trip to Canada started as any does. A 2AM departure from Salt Lake, excitement mounting as the "Revelstoke, BC" dot grew closer and closer to me on my iPhone's screen. But, the over 1,000-mile journey always has one snag... The border. Waiting in line my palms were sweaty, and I glanced in my rearview mirror to check my image. Shit. Eyes were blood red from staring at the road for over 13 hours, music blaring into my ears. But, my worries were short lived. No search, minimal questions, it was perfect. The rest of the drive I spent dwelling on what this comp would be like. Revelstoke was the beginning of a new era of big mountain competitions. The American Freeskiing World Tour and European Freeride World Tour combined to create a unified Swatch Freeride World Tour presented by The North Face. They brought the top 13 skiers from each tour, then a few wild cards to create a field of the 30 best big mountain competitors to tour the world this season.

I was stoked to see everyone again after the summer, especially as everyone that came was buzzing with excitement. Visual inspection only meant that we could use photos to find a line, or peer at the venue through binoculars. With thick BC clouds enveloping the Mac Daddy face, we all spent our six weather days enjoying fresh pow... A little something everyone loves.

Finally the comp day came. An early start up the gondola brought us up above the valley fog, where for the first time it was clear. Helicopters were buzzing everywhere, event staff were busy setting up in the below-zero temps, and all the athletes could be seen with binoculars on their face, scoping lines one last time. I was right there with them, nervously looking at landings and take offs to cliffs, trying to asses how the snow would change if people skied there before me.

Before I knew it I was hiking the ridgeline. Headed up to the start. The viewing ridge was steadily gaining people, cheering everytime a competitor dropped onto the face. With time to spare up top, I pulled a risky move. My toes were frozen inside my boots, so I pulled them off and warmed them in the sun. After 5 minutes the starter came over to inform me I was in the gate. I started to put my boots back on, but the plastic was totally stiff. Two other guys trying to help me did nothing. I couldn't stop screaming at myself for being so stupid. It was going to be hard to ski without my damn boots on. Luckily, after popping them into walk mode (thank god they had it) I could buckle in. Just in time too, I heard " judges ready"… "live show ready". I nodded my head, and "Johnny Collinson, dropping in three, two, one". Boom. I was off.

Navigating the snow and face seemed so difficult. I just kept thinking, make it look easy. But it didn't feel like I was doing that. I found my line no problem, and as I set up for my final air, my brain cleared out, no nervousness, just enjoyment for what I was doing: Skiing. The three was so big it felt like I hit terminal velocity, air whooshing up through my skis, then the abrupt landing. Back check. Fuckin a. Need to stomp those clean for this judging panel. And that was it. Tired turns to the finish wrapped it up. An excited Drew Tabke greeted me at the finish, congratulating my run, and saying his went well (turns out he won). And I ended up 11th. That's just how judged sports go. I don't think I could have skied what I did any better, but I only had one air, and did back check. Oh well. Now I have a full month to stay in BC with Sherpas Cinema to film for their new movie "Into the Mind". Look for another update on how the filming goes!

PG: The Megawatt is the ski that really put BD on the map in terms of freeride and powder performance, and has always been a ski that the whole office is really stoked about. I could probably write a book of all the internal feedback I've received over the years on the original, and we've really tried to incorporate that into the new skis.  Everybody loves their Megas, and here in the Wasatch especially it's a really difficult tradeoff to give up the powder performance for a lighter touring setup. So we decided to make the Mega as light as we could to eliminate the need for that compromise in the backcountry. The shape and stiffness profile of the standard Megawatts got a little more aggro and big-mountain focused with the current design, so we opted to stick with the original 2008 shape for the carbon version in order to keep its more user-friendly character.

PG: Obviously the weight is key, but the shape is equally important. It's still got the big shovel and easier-skiing nature that better suits backcountry use. The carbon version still charges, but it's a little easier to maneuver when things get tight. From a technical standpoint, the differences are pretty substantial—carbon in the layup and a lighter paulownia core were the primary drivers for the weight savings.

PG: Human-powered on the up, deep on the down. Obviously, this ski absolutely rips in deep snow, and the weight makes most excuses about not needing a wide ski in the backcountry obsolete.

What has surprised a lot of testers is how well the Carbon Megawatt handles in less-than-ideal conditions—a lot of our testers think ski performance is on par with the original 2008 model. It will hold a good edge on hardpack, and doesn't have the typical tinny carbon ski feel. The lightweight construction also makes it fairly quick edge-to-edge for such a wide ski. For the backcountry skier who spends an occasional powder day on or around the resort, this would be a great option.

PG: Engineering really gets fun when you're going for the lightest design possible. It's not an option for BD to make something that meets the weight target but doesn't ski well, so maintaining the appropriate balance of performance, weight, strength, and durability is the name of the game.  All of that gets a little more intense when you're redesigning something that's so close to peoples' hearts as the Megawatt—I don't want to be the guy that messes up everybody's favorite powder ski, so there's some peer pressure involved in doing everything possible to make sure the lighter version lives up to the reputation of its older brother. We have developed some pretty sophisticated math and analytical tools to predict those things, and I got to put all of those techniques to good use in this ski.  See kids, math is fun after all.