My first run on the new Head Kore 111 was the most fun I had all test season. I’d been waiting for what passed for a powder day last year to appear, and when the opportunity arose, I struck. There were still a few clean lines to be had when we began our assault on Mt. Rose that morning, and plenty of places to string together pockets of powder. The Kore 111 felt so agile out of the chute, I practically danced down the fall line, pouncing back and forth as if the surface was firm and my skis were narrow, neither of which was the case. My turn shape was resolutely shallow, as I never crossed far across the fall line, the Kores exiting each turn with an enthusiasm usually reserved for slalom skis.
As I put the 111’s through their paces, it passed every exam with flying colors. Short isn’t the natural shape for a ski of the 111’s girth, but it’s so simple to foot-swivel and smear that it could change direction in a closet. Assisting its superior smudge factor is a new Kore feature, chamfered top edges that slice sideways like a sushi knife. Because there isn’t a situation in which it can’t be turned by some means, the Kore 111 is a treat in the trees, where powder can still be found past 10:00.
The biggest problem with skis as wide as the Kore 111 is that their shortcomings start to show up as the powder “day” fizzles out around mid-morning. The Kore 111 could care less that the powder is kaput. Perhaps because Head replaced the Koroyd used in previous Kore cores with Karuba and poplar, the Kore 111 provides the feedback of a classic, wood and fiberglass chassis despite belonging in the same weight class as an anorexic Alpine Touring model.
I realize this sounds like a stupid thing to say, but the Kore 111 doesn’t ski wide, or at least not as wide as it measures, in part because it lacks Titanal laminates. Titanal accentuates torsional rigidity, which in turn augments the sensation of width because there’s no give along the longitudinal axis of the ski. Two sheets of Titanal is also a heavy load to haul around, particularly in powder, where they promote sinking over floating. The Kore 111 can afford to kick Titanal to the curb because it has Graphene in its guts, carbon in a matrix one atom thick that’s absurdly strong and damp.
The Kore construction didn’t need the 111 to validate its growing reputation as one of the great off-trail series of all time, yet it may be the archetypical Kore that epitomizes what this design does best. One of the defining characteristics of a great ski is its ability to perform tasks at an elite level that it was never designed to do. Starting from scratch, without design or cost limitations, I doubt anyone could make a ski better adapted to off-trail skiing than the Kore 111. Yet it transitions to hard snow so seamlessly you almost want to look down to be sure they haven’t shrunk to a Frontside waistline.
About the only caveat I can concoct is that the Kore 111 could use a little cushion to push against. By that I mean, if the top 1mm of the snow surface is unrelenting, of course it’s going to drift; but if there’s even an ounce of cream for the base to brace itself, the Kore 111 knows how to come around on a line. While we don’t recommend skis this wide for all-day, hard-snow skiing, the Kore 111 can handle it if you can. There isn’t a condition it can’t adjust to, including trees and moguls, because it can switch from a carve to a drift and flip back on edge in mid-turn. There aren’t a lot of other skis this wide that feel this nimble, yet are so connected on groomers they’re actually fun to cruise on corduroy. There may not be any.
Even though it has the power to electrify a village, the Kore 111 never feels challenging to ski. For its elite, yet accessible, performance, we award the Kore 111 a Silver Skier Selection.
