by Jackson Hogen | Aug 16, 2019
I’ve tried for several seasons to strap on a pair of Blizzard Spurs, but I’ve always been thwarted. For several years no powder fell during test season and the few pairs in circulation were needed elsewhere. Once the product manager wouldn’t send me a pair to test because he knew they were unlikely to see any new snow. Since every one of its 192 centimeters was built for winter powder, not spring slush, he withheld his favors. I considered the Spurs to be my ever-elusive white whales, although these whales happen to be murdered-out black.
After finally getting on a pair in appropriate conditions, I understand why Blizzard put the kibosh on testing the Spur on whatever happens to be handy. The Spur is meant for making movies in Alaska. Its gigantic surface area rides so high it can be pivoted in a pipeline chute despite having the turn radius of a FIS GS race ski. The sidecut radius is invariably irrelevant because you’re always going to be smearing part, if not all, of every turn.
by Jackson Hogen | Aug 16, 2019
The Blizzard Firebird SRC feels like a GS ski trapped in an SL’s body. The slalom shape dictates a short-radius turn whenever it’s raked on edge, but its serenity at speed and willingness to open up its natural radius make it feel like a GS ski. Jim Schaffner’s staccato commentary reflects the SRC’s dual personality: “SL to GS to SL to GS, etc, etc, etc…” all those et ceteras plus an ellipsis to emphasize a string that never ends. “Best all-rounder SL,” Coach Schaffner concludes.
Two key features that Blizzard added last year to its traditional wood and Titanal construction contribute to the SRC’s Zen-like serenity on edge. Carbon Armor is an extra slab of bi-directional carbon under the binding that amplifies force in the heart of the arc. To keep the ski planted like it had roots in the snow, two vertical carbon struts, called Carbon Spine, tri-sect the laminated wood core. Carbon Spine kicks in at the bottom of the turn, sending the skier off into the next arc as if fired from a crossbow.
by Jackson Hogen | Aug 16, 2019
Big as he is, the Rustler 11 will always be the Bodacious’ little brother, and like many baby bros, the Rustler 11 tries hard to be his elder sibling’s antithesis. The biggest difference in the younger’s personality is how he behaves at the point of attack, where the ski meets the snow. Put simply, the Bodacious is a puncher, and the Rustler 11 is a counter-puncher.
Another way to characterize how the Rustler 11 differs from the Bodacious is the latter expects a little more from its pilot – more speed, more skill, more aggression – while the Rustler will happily accept you as you are, warts and all. That it surrenders some support on hardpack only matters if you want it to. Kept to the pow, it’s as easy as pie and a perennial recipient of a Silver Skier Selection.
by Jackson Hogen | Aug 16, 2019
Remember those inflatable punching bags made so kids can work out their juvenile aggressions? They had a round, weighted bottom that allowed Mr. Binky to take the most vicious blow and bound right back up, ready to roll with the next haymaker. That’s sort of how it feels to descend on the Blizzard Firebird WRC, a slippery yet solid foundation that seems impossible to fall off of.
The Firebird WRC is a beast of s GS ski that is easily tamed, as long as you meet a couple of prerequisites. First, stop asking it to turn at slow speeds, a total waste of its talents. The WRC solves this problem for you by continuing to accelerate until it feels inspired to take the top off its first turn at around 30mph. Second, keep it on trail. If you take it into soft snow it will burrow into it until it finds the bottom, where it will stay until you get a crane to extract it.
Third, don’t ski it passively. Presumably you’re contemplating a race ski because you already know how to drive one, so get after it, for therein lies the reward.
by Jackson Hogen | Aug 16, 2019
The defining feature of the Sheeva 10 is also its most obvious, a top layer of Titanal that runs virtually edge to edge underfoot and tapers to a central tongue that terminates halfway up the forebody and down towards the tail. The partial laminate of metal simultaneously serves two purposes: it magnifies torsional strength where it’s widest while allowing the rest of the ski to go with the flow. The tapered tip isn’t itching to dip into a turn and the tail isn’t the clinging type. This freedom to deflect helps the Sheeva 10 to drift over ratty terrain as if it were level.
The Sheeva 10’s ability to deliver the stability of a metal ski and the playfulness and ease of glass and carbon in a single package is recreated in a larger format, the Sheeva 11 (140/112/130). While in the Big Mountain world greater girth is sometime associated with greater ease, the metal underfoot in the Sheeva 11 “makes it ski way wider than a 112,” says Lauren Takayesu of Footloose, “but still easy to negotiate for the lady ripper.”
