Few conditions are as intimidating as bone-flat light, where all terrain features disappear in a miasma of misty grey. Not that this is anyone’s idea of Nirvana, but it happens, and when it does it would be good to be on the MX98. It exudes confidence, a blessing when the pilot has little of his own. Like the Bonafide 97 and the Mantra M6, the MX98 doesn’t care where you aim it. Its tendency is to stay pinned to the planet, rolling over whatever is presented in its path. While one wouldn’t call it agile, neither is it nervous or indecisive. Whether flat or on edge, it’s a ski you can trust, which is of paramount importance when you can’t see squat.
Sad to say, the most likely condition an all-terrain ski will encounter is also the most mundane: groomers. If you own an MX98, you’ll actually look forward to a morning of corduroy, for groomers are to the MX98 what the briar patch was to Brer Rabbit: its natural element. Rolling it edge to edge, twin-track style, you’d never guess you were on a 98mm-waisted ski. The ski simply doesn’t call attention to itself in any unpleasant way: no loose tip, no sense of sluggish girth, no soft tail to spin out. If you know how to fire out of a turn, the MX98 gives you a tail you can stomp on.
I ski the Kästle MX83 on a regular basis, so I can’t help judging the FX86 Ti by the standard set by its stablemate. It’s not a fair comparison, because the two skis are aiming at different targets. They don’t ski much alike because they’re made to ski differently. Let us count the ways.
Starting from the tips, the MX83’s full camber line is made to connect as early as possible, while the tapered and well-rockered (280mm) tip of the FX86 Ti is meant to do just the opposite. Both use Hollowtech 3.0, Kästle’s signature damping device, but the FX86 Ti starts off as a looser construction, so it doesn’t feel as quiet as the MX83.
Moving to the middle of the ski, both models use a wood core and Titanal in a combination Kästle calls Tri Ti, but the two constructions are subtly and importantly different. The MX83’s tail is square, flared and stiff; the rear of the FX86 Ti is rounded-off, softer and rises gradually off the snow for its last 210m’s. When all their differences are tallied, it’s clear why the FX96 Ti has no more chance of behaving like the MX83 than a giraffe has of bearing kittens.
The orientation of the lighter and looser FX86 Ti is unabashedly off-trail, where its turns of choice are mid-radius. As long as one’s speed is also kept at a comfortable mid-range, the FX86 Ti remains cool, calm and collected.
If the MX88 has a character flaw, it’s that it can’t resist the urge to show off. It’s ability to stay blasé when other skis are getting buffeted around like a teacup in a typhoon can’t be evinced unless the pilot is willing to lay on the gas. So what if it’s not great at slow, short turns? That’s no way to ski crud and it’s certainly a boring means of consuming groomers. One pays a pretty penny for a MX88; what you’re paying for is its unperturbed ride when it kicks into a gear most skis in this genre don’t possess.
The trade-off for its tranquility during supersonic acceleration is the absence of any patience with low speeds, which the MX88 sees no point in indulging. It would rather implement its own advice, which can be summarized as, “how are you going to go fast if you don’t stop going slow?”
If this sounds like the MX88 belongs to a club whose only members are experts, well, that’s certainly true for the 187cm length, and I’m not sure anyone less than expert ought to get a 180cm, either. But the shorter lengths are fine for any competent skier who wants the quiet ride of a luxury sedan with the steering of a sports car.
Kästle’s current MX83, reprised from last season, is both typical of a current trend and atypical in a way all its own. The trend it’s party to is how a series of modest modifications amount to a significant change, especially in Finesse qualities. It’s unique among such upgraded models in that the name it’s re-assuming happens to be the legendary MX83, inarguably one of the greatest Frontside models ever made.
The reason the revival of the MX83 ought to interest experts everywhere is because it responds so intuitively to technical commands. Its fully cambered baseline feels super-glued to the snow, inviting speeds that would cause lesser lights to shake loose. Most skis this torsionally rigid don’t flow over and around moguls too well, but the MX83 has an almost liquid flow bred into its bones.
One of the best indicators of a great ski is how well it performs in conditions for which it wasn’t made. Of course, the MX83 is a hoot trenching corduroy at speeds that on another ski would be terrifying, but the MX83 adopts the same attitude towards all terrain. It doesn’t care where you point it because it’s confident in its abilities, a self-assurance that invariably rubs off on its pilot. The MX83’s size range is skewed short so that lighter or less talented skiers can experience perfection without necessarily being able to exemplify it.
If you don’t know how to engage a ski at the top of the turn, and don’t care to know, you might as well stop reading about the Nordica Dobermann Spitfire 76 RB right now. It has the cleanest, highest, earliest connection to the next turn in a category in which this particular trait is prized. But if you’re still lingering on the downhill edge when you should already be tilting in the other direction, you’ll miss the moment. Don’t worry if you do, for the Spitfire 76 will find the edge as soon as you give it a chance. But part of what makes this review an unblushing rave will pass you by.
If you’re hooked on the G’s generated in a short turn, you’ll feel right at home on this cobra-quick stick. It has the reflexes of a fencer, moving unerringly into the center of the arc where it ignites and, as it says in its name, fires the skier across the fall line. The Dobermann Spitfire 76 RB has all the qualities a strong skier expects in a race ski, just de-tuned a red hair so it’s more fun for freeskiing. Jim Schaffner from Start Haus, a big man with an engrained race technique for which the term “powerful” seems inadequate, wrote of the Spitfire 76, “I felt like I could do anything on this ski. It’s fun, lively, snappy, with a dash of the Dobermann race heritage feel.”
