After a four-year hiatus, I returned to Jackson Hole last weekend for the premiere of “The Tangerine Dream,” a ski and snowboard film produced by Jackson-based Teton Gravity Research.
I first met the “TGR Boys” (the Jones brothers, Steve and Todd, and their partners Dirk Collins and Corey Gavitt) when I was sent to Jackson, Wyo., to do a profile on TGR for Powder magazine in 1997. I arrived on a dark, cold night in September and was standing alone outside the tiny airport when Todd Jones and his friend showed up in an old white Mercedes convertible with the top down even though it was 40 degrees. I sat pinched on the console between them, clinging to the back of their seats as we careened down a narrow, windy dirt road at unsafe speeds. It was an appropriately terrifying introduction.
At that time, they were all living together in a small A-frame in Wilson at the base of Teton Pass, running their business out of the house with one phone line, an antiquated computer and a fax machine. They had produced one movie, “The Continuum,” with the money they made commercial fishing in Alaska the summer before – about $25,000 each – and some small endorsements from friends in the ski industry.
I was immediately consumed by their passion and the undisrupted flow of testosterone that flooded the tiny house. Their energy was contagious, their lifestyle exciting and dangerous.
They liked me because I was female, blond and good at getting their stories into magazines. In 1998, I became their token journalist chick and they took me with them to the Swiss Alps and the Dolomites and Italy and heli skiing in the northernmost reaches of British Columbia. I followed them, into places I normally wouldn’t go, like a little kid who excitedly climbs high into a tree and then realizes she can’t get down.
I held my breath from knife-edge ridge lines and took photos with my point-and-shoot camera and ate snow to distract myself during those death-defying moments when someone I knew a little too well would ski or snowboard into a potentially fatal line for the cameras. I got to ride in the front seat of helicopters and wear headphones and chat it up on walkie-talkies. I spent four hours in a van with 10 drunk guys for the sole purpose of going to Hyder, Alaska, to get “Hyderized” by drinking a shot of locally distilled grain alcohol. I lived too hard and drank too much and fell in love too often and went so far as to move to Jackson myself, until one day I woke up and realized I was living in northwestern Wyoming. I packed my things and went back to California to salvage what was left of my career.
TGR continued to flourish. Not only were they happy being on the cutting edge, they continued to push and define where that edge lies. Leave it to a bunch of drunk ski bums to figure out a way to cruise around in helicopters and private jets and yachts and get to places most people will never see – unless it be on a giant bar TV screen that’s playing one of their videos. They earned enough money and endorsements to pay for an office only steps from the tram at Jackson, to hire a decent-sized staff, to pay for global travel and foster the kind of connections, access and luxury that money just can’t buy. They have made dozens of videos, branching off into surfing, kayaking, BASE jumping, motocross, and working for major TV networks including NBC.
The new movie showed me everything I had missed, and my heart swelled with pride as I sat in the front row at Festival Hall in Teton Village. All these years of dedication has led them to the highest peaks, the steepest lines, the biggest mountains and the farthest reaches.
The film’s intro has a montage of years past and for a split second, an image of me flashes on the screen. I’m in a hot tub in British Columbia and a helicopter flies overhead, water from the tub spilling over the edges and spraying in its wake. I’m laughing, my head tilted back, face up toward the sky. It’s hard to believe I was part of it, the making of a dream.
For more film tour dates and information on “The Tangerine Dream,” go to tetongravity.com. Freelance columnist Alison Berkley can be reached at alison@berkleymedia.com.
