Powder October 2016

THE MORNING WAS SILENT. I looked outside the cabin: the muted navy blue of dawn and a coat of overflowing white. It was the first powder day of the season. But I don't like to be in a hurry. I fried an egg. I pressed coffee. I slowly put on my ski pants, my jacket, my snowboots. I grabbed my pack, my gloves, my Langes, and closed the front door behind me. The trail to the car was untouched, the road through the forest was untouched, the edges of the ski hill were untouched. The storm persisted. On the chairlift, with an old ski friend—someone I see throughout the winter, but rarely any other time—the snow came in horizontally, the wind spitting little white flecks. The only exposed part of…

LOCATION Haines, Alaska SKIER Henrik Windstedt PHOTOGRAPHER Oskar Enander/Whiteout Pictures SKIER Andrew Whiteford LOCATION Jackson Hole, Wyoming PHOTOGRAPHER Jay Goodrich SKIER Jérémie Heitz LOCATION Aiguille de l'Amône, Switzerland PHOTOGRAPHER Tero Repo/La Liste SKIER Bernard Rosow LOCATION Mammoth, California PHOTOGRAPHER Christian Pondella SKIER Tyler Peterson LOCATION Snowbird, Utah PHOTOGRAPHER Jay Dash SKIER David Wise LOCATION Watles, Italy PHOTOGRAPHER David Malacrida SKIER Nick McNutt LOCATION Neacola Mountains, Alaska PHOTOGRAPHER Nic Alegre/TGR…

It's difficult to remember when skiing didn't hold significance for me, but I know that dark star of youthful frivolity still lurks, lodged somewhere in the ether. Doubtless those were days of physical fumbling, uncertain amusement, and awkward fraternity. Sometime later, as skiing became a more frequent habit, the worm turned: Solo time in the snow—an element most people sought to avoid— became escape and necessity. I suppose I have this magazine to thank for that. Browsing my first copy at a newsstand one soggy winter day, I saw portrayed not only what skiing was, but what it could be, and, perhaps more urgently, how that might happen. Now I had a guidebook to the relationship. So skiing seemed important. Fascinated by that— both as skier and writer—I practically dove…

AGE: 69 LOCATION: Cannon Mountain, New Hampshire ROOTS: Alan Wheeler splits his time and profession by the seasons: summer as a trap fisherman off the tip of Rhode Island; winter in the mountains of New Hampshire, where he makes snow full-time and skis the backcountry any chance he gets. His co-workers and ski companions, often a few decades younger, have to push to keep up, but he's everything you could ask for in a work mate or ski buddy. "He can fix anything and he can ski anything," says John DeVivo, Cannon Mountain's general manager and Wheeler's ski partner. "He's a tough old bastard with a great heart." Whether it's fishing or skiing or making snow, if it's not going to be fun, it may as well be dangerous.…

Ever since the traditional ski-shop business model—buy a lot of product and hope to sell it for twice as much—ran into the e-commerce meat grinder a decade ago, it has only gotten tougher for shops to exist, never mind thrive. According to SnowSports Industries America, consumers bought nearly $1 billion worth of snow sports equipment online last winter, up more than 20 percent from four years ago. It is probably not a coincidence that more than 1,300 snow sports retailers—or about 20 percent of the total—have closed in the past six years. In addition, direct-to-consumer sales have become more widespread by manufacturers, many of which have opened their own retail stores in ski towns. "We're competing not only against other brick-andmortar shops and online retailers, but also against our vendors,"…

KEN JONES SKI MART MANCHESTER, NEW HAMPSHIRE It is no coincidence that this family owned shop has focused on custom bootfitting, junior gear leases, and bargain group trips over the past five years. After all, none of those services are available online (though you can sign up on the shop's website), says Vice President Dylan Hall, 36, whose grandfather founded the business 49 years ago. The Ski Mart carries 170 boot models, up from 100 in 2011, and has seen sales increase each year. It runs bus trips to Stowe, Vermont, for $80, which include a lift ticket, transportation, and all the Sam Adams beer you can drink; and leases gear to kids 5-12 for $149 per winter, which comes with a free season pass to Waterville Valley, normally valued…