Vision 98
It’s fitting that Line’s new Vision 98 should top our rankings for All-Mountain West Finesse skis, as it’s commitment to skis that are surfy and playful is ironclad. The brand that began to make twin-tip skiboards 25 years ago this season is the only mainstream brand without even a toe-hold in the Technical or Frontside categories. If you’re looking for wide ski that mimics a carving ski’s accuracy, you’re in the wrong room.
That said, the Vision 98 can hold its own in firm conditions because its moderately rockered tip and tail blend into the rest of its cambered baseline when it’s flexed, creating a long effective edge. Its flex distribution – geared towards a centered stance – shock dampening and liveliness are dictated by three high tech fibers, aramid, carbon and fiberglass, all working in concert to create an instantly responsive ski.
Line calls this amalgam of materials THC™ Construction, a term it shrewdly trademarked. About the only way the brand could have sent a louder signal to its constituents is if it had made the core out of hemp (close: it’s actually Paulownia and maple) and sold each pair with papers and a lighter. By keeping metal out of the Vision 98’s guts, Line is able to make it much lighter than the norm.
Sick Day 104
This is going to seem like an odd way to begin a review of the returning Line Sick Day 104, but if you love skiing powder – and I know you do – you have got to ski the 19/20 version of the Sir Francis Bacon. One of Eric Pollard’s original signature models, the SFB has been subjected to a series of tweaks over its long tenure. Now something very much like the original (143/107/139) is back, and it’s crazy good.
As for the Sick Day 104, the narrowest of Line’s Big Mountain bunch, it’s like the bright, bored student who could get good grades for edge grip but would rather skip class than let The Man tell it how to ski. Its natural tendency is to show up a little late for the turn, gradually roll up on its side then bank off its broad base to finish the arc. Given a choice between drifting and carving, the Sick Day 104 will take the slacker route every time.
Pandora 84
In keeping with the inverted world of women’s Frontside skis, where true carvers are nearly extinct and off-trail baselines are increasingly the norm, the Line Pandora 84 has its scores backward. It’s no more a Power ski than Taylor Swift is a power lifter; it’s a soft, buttery, compliant little cupcake of a ski that holds a nice edge all along the camber zone in its modestly rockered baseline.
When one considers Line’s dewy-cheeked demographic and the Pandora 84’s below-market price, it becomes clear just who this ultralight all-terrain ski is for: Miss Teen America, that’s who. It’s not for the ex-racer or the off-piste adventurer, but the girl next door who just wants to have fun. Line will turn 25 this year, yet it’s never lost touch with the youth market from which it draws its inspiration and its energy.
Supernatural 92
Twenty-five years ago, Jason Levinthal began making skiboards, skis just long enough to make room for a primitive, non-releasable binding. Because they were first, foremost and forever about tricks, they had curled-up tips at both ends. It wasn’t long before Jason graduated to making full-length twin-tips, which attracted the attention of kids who wanted to take skiing in a new direction. Little by little, Line infiltrated the mass market, not by adopting its rules, but by being change agents who would help redefine the sport.
Just how high Line has climbed in market share is hard to say since online sales bypass monitored retailing, but it’s safe to assume Line has been the most successful start-up since its inception. Because the kids who continue to be its principal patrons are all about breaking the rules and taking the party to the slopes, its communications focus on fat, smeary powder skis and terrain-park twins.
But Line might not have made it to 25 if it hadn’t been for skiers over 40. For several seasons it cultivated quite a following for its Prophet series, all-mountain tools with an oddly trimmed topsheet of metal that gave them power that a lightweight skier could engage. This same principle is what helps the Supernatural 92 strike a balance between Power and Finesse properties that tilts slightly towards the latter because of its off-trail personality.