category_outlined / Sports

Powder December 2018

You never know when the next perfect powder day will come, so until then, pick up Powder Magazine for your ski runs. From dissecting the steepest, most technical first descents, to lofting big air, Powder transports you with award-winning photography and engaging articles that will take you to the top of the mountain.

United States
American Media Operations, Inc
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6 Issues


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what a skier needs

I NEED AIR, WATER, FOOD, AND A ROOF OVER MY HEAD. I need my wife, my family, and my friends. I need my dog. I need the outside. And not just any outside, but an outside that is vast, wild, and full of mountains, with big sturdy trees, rocky windswept ridgelines, snow-filled couloirs, free-flowing rivers, and animals that remind us we’re part of something greater. I need the changing of the seasons. I need the vibrant colors of summer and fall to contrast the dichromatic blur of winter and spring. I need the heat of August to appreciate the cold of December, when arctic air bites my nose and keeps my senses sharp. I need it to snow, and I need it to snow a lot: big huge drifts that bury my entire town. I…

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HAPPY TEARS As a parent and passholder, “How A Son Remembers His Father” (47.1) brought me to tears. Again, I realized how important it is to come home to ski another day, another season. Also, The Jaded Local column (“The Pleasure of Not Doing Anything Rad,” 47.1) had me laughing hard regarding the “rad factor” so prevalent in Jackson Hole. As a veteran POWDER fanatic immersed in the September issue, from the Intro (“Where Everything Makes Sense”) to Pro Deal, it was one of the most fantastic issues in recent memory. Ski season can’t come soon enough. CHRISTOPHER LEVERONI Teton Village, Wyoming DON’T OVERLOOK THE LITTLE THINGS Love is deep, like the accumulation of endless powder at the base of a secluded couloir. There are nooks and niches filled with surprises the eye cannot see…

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letter of the month

MAKING IT SOUND EASY, MATE! The magazine arrived in the mail today. A hard copy, not digital. There is nothing like tearing open that cover. It is like my dessert. It has been my escape and inspiration for the last four years—reading the stories of fresh powder, big lines, and people who have lived the skier’s life. So, last winter my wife and three boys aged 7, 5, and 9 months took the plunge and jetted north to chase the snow. Following our own M.A.X. Pass trail, and clocking more than 7,000 miles in six weeks, we hit up Mount Bachelor, Big Sky, Solitude, Brighton, Copper Mountain, and Crested Butte. Now, as I sit and devour the latest issue, I can enjoy familiar images and read new stories, thinking, ‘I’ve been there!’…

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During a trip to Annecy, France, POWDER Director of Photography David Reddick stumbled upon an old workbench on the Salomon factory floor that had been etched over the years by engineers cutting ski patterns. At first glance, the layers and intersections of the outlines of skis were difficult to recognize. But that was exactly what drew Reddick’s interest. “I’ve always loved the patina of things,” he says. “There’s nothing quite like the results from a craftman’s hands that create art, especially in this absract sense.”…

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the skier’s speakeasy

A funny man with a funny smile and funny-looking glasses sashays back and forth with a Bluetooth speaker balanced on the crown of his toque. Around him, several young women dance in their ski boots, hoisting cans of beer to the sky while belting out the lyrics to “Everywhere,” Fleetwood Mac’s soft-rock cheese that originally hit the airwaves before most of these people were even born and that you somehow can’t not like no matter what age you are. Especially when it’s snowing, you are in ski boots, and the song is playing out of a speaker perched on a funny man’s hat. Cheese, beer, wine, and thermoses of hot soup get passed around the periphery of the crowd. The sun goes down and puffies come out. The music switches to…

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world cup downhillers are the biggest badasses in skiing

World Cup downhill racers are, without question, the most badass men and women on skis. Badass-er than Chugach straightliners; badass-er than I-skinned-for-three-months-and-slept-in-my-puffy-the-whole-time-to-reach-this-peak alpinists; badass-er than those kids who throw spins and flips off giant booters. The guys and gals who charge 80-plus mph down free-falling, off-camber pitches on glare ice don’t just suppress the urge to go into the world’s fastest pizza wedge, they actively step on the accelerator, making them a cut above the rest on the overall slab of badass meat. This isn’t the easiest position for me to take. I’m a lapsed (a more honest man would say failed) ski racer myself. I walked away from the sport at 18 after a mediocre New England high school career, based in large part on my assessment that ski racers…