You won’t find the definition of “freeskiing” in any dictionary. Then again, if you’re looking to a guy named Webster to update your action-sports lexicon, well, you’re likely more than a little behind the curve already.
But even the most interweb-savvy among us can wind up bewildered by the increasingly factious world of freeskiing. Go ahead and Google it. Even Wikipedia comes up confused.
It’s no surprise, really, when the U.S. Freeskiing Championships one weekend include “big mountain” skiers hucking cliffs and dodging hazards on the steep slopes of Mount Crested Butte. Then the U.S. Freeskiing Open drops in a week later with gymnastic “jibbers” scraping the walls of the superpipe at Copper Mountain.
Same name, different concept. And it doesn’t end there.
Alpine racers will talk about freeskiing on days when there’s too much snow to chase gates. What once was considered “freestyle” has morphed into a regulation-riddled breed of precision bump-and-jump competition. Some backcountry skiers will tell you the only way to truly freeski is away from the controlled confines of a resort.
And freeriding? That’s a whole other can of snow snakes.
As much as anything, a person’s definition of freeskiing seems to depend on proximity to an urban environment. Or rather, the type of ski mountain in closest proximity to said city. If you freeski at Echo Mountain, Keystone and Copper, then you likely tend toward park and pipe. Favor Telluride, Crested Butte and Aspen Highlands, and you probably think of yourself as a big-mountain freeskier.
Consider it colloquial. Or consider it cross-training.
“They are surprisingly different,” said Claudia Bouvier of Vail, one of a few rare freeskiers to straddle both sides of the competitive fence. She finished first last month at a big-mountain freeskiing event in Telluride, followed by a top-five superpipe finish at the U.S. Freeskiing Open last weekend.
“It’s good training to do one and then the other. I think big mountain is great training for park (skiing). It gives you strength and the ability to hold an edge and keep things going even when the run’s not going great. But park doesn’t prepare me that much for the big mountain — maybe slopestyle, but not so much halfpipe.”
To hear Bouvier tell it, the “free” is far less prevalent in halfpipe freeskiing than other eponymous events. The repetitious nature of pipe skiing demands a different sort of dedication than big-mountain training, which often is merely a matter of stepping into her skis and seeking out the challenges the mountains have to offer.
“It’s what I love to do,” Bouvier said. “I love skiing big lines in powder, going off cliffs. It’s really my favorite thing.”
Boulder native Cliff Bennett shares the philosophy. Bennett, who won the U.S. Extreme Freeskiing Championships at Crested Butte 10 days ago, had enough skill in the superpipe to win the only contest he ever entered. But ultimately he recognized he lacked the chops to compete among the elite at events like the U.S. Open, so he channeled his focus on his favored version of freeskiing.
As a former alpine racer who dabbled in skicross (a new “freestyle” event, by Olympic definition), Bennett would like to see more crossover among freeskiing in general.
“With the progression of superpipe, it’s brought a lot of guys out that you don’t really see in big-mountain stuff,” said Bennett, who added he sees skiing just progressing all as one.
So maybe the concepts aren’t so different after all. Freedom, on skis or anywhere else, is merely a matter of interpretation.
