There’s a lot of subtext to the Sick Day collection, of which the 114 is the fattest and ipso facto the floatiest. Sick days are all about not showing up, and with a tip rocker that rises two centimeters off the deck, mated with a pulled-back forward contact point, the Sick Day 114 always cuts the first class. Even when it’s asked to turn nicely, it doesn’t sit up straight but sort of slouches through the turn. Riding a high edge on a ski this wide is a lot like work, so it drifts through the turn stress-free.
If this sounds like the Sick Day 114 would rather get terminal acne than carve a turn, let’s just say it performs like the solid “C” student that surprises you on test day. It’s actually very simple to steer, taking the hint from light pressure to find its way across the fall line. Its most unexpected talent lies in short turns at slow speed, not normally in the Powder ski playbook. Of course it doesn’t make short, carved turns, but it smears its way side to side without a hitch or a great deal of pilot input.
Against the backdrop of the other GS race skis in this genre, the Kästle RX12 GS stands out like a ballerina among lumberjacks. Some of its superior fluidity has to be attributable to its lack of a racing plate or binding interface of any kind. The skier is closer to the snow, giving the RX12 GS a living pulse when pressured, unfiltered by extra layers of elastomers and metal.
By elevating the skier on what amounts to a taller tower, a race plate takes the subtlety out of turning; once you tip the tower over, you’re committed to the ensuing high edge angle. The lower altitude of the RX12 GS makes it easier for the skier to feather the edge throughout the turn, rather than relying on the brusque, all-in style elevation encourages.
It’s this suppleness that makes the RX12 GS so versatile in terms of both turn shape and terrain adaptability, traits not usually found in a GS race ski. All of its attributes considered in toto, the RX12 GS behaves more like a luxury cruiser than a brute gate basher. It requires less energy to guide, less force to bend and a less aggro stance to engage.
Most powder skis are made for those who either don’t ski powder so well or those who ski it so well they need a crazy-wide ski to make their living. The Nordica Enforcer 115 Free leans towards those of elite ability who point their skis downhill a lot more than they turn them sideways. It takes an aggressive attitude to pilot this ski because its long turn radius and extra length (note it only comes in a 191cm) need speed to turn these traits from liabilities to assets. If you like to tiptoe through the trees or make tidy, little turns to control your speed, you are reading the wrong review.
The reason the Enforcer 115 Free skis like a GS race ski in a fat suit is because it’s still a wood and metal ski, with two sheets of .4mm Titanal to give this big board the power of plutonium. Were it to depend on fiberglass for its liveliness, it would weigh as much as the Queen Mary; the switch from glass to carbon is what enables Nordica to retain the Ti laminates and the special stability at speed that they confer.
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.
The Hero Elite LT Ti isn’t a watered-down race ski, just one that’s been domesticated. It still uses the race-room fabrication called Line Control Technology (LCT) comprised of a central rib of Ti wrapped in a viscoelastic shell that keeps the ski from counterflexing. The sense of contact throughout the turn is clean and accurate with a finish that focuses on maintaining its solid snow connection.
A close inspection of its tech specs reveals a tip that’s as wide across the beam as a race slalom, with a waist and tail that are also a tad plumper than the norm for a GS race ski. Its shape helps the Hero Elite LT Ti tuck into a tighter arc than it likes to finish, so it doesn’t lose momentum as it barrels downhill. Within the fraternity of Non-FIS Race GS skis, the Hero Elite LT Ti comes closest to being a recreational cruiser, and we don’t mean that in a dismissive way. As a freeskiing tool, it holds its own against all comers.
