The Rossignol Soul 7 HD W isn’t similar to the most popular Big Mountain ski of the last decade, it’s identical to it. Part of this model’s enduring appeal is the allure of its Air Tip design that decorates the shovel with filigree that appears jewel-like when illuminated from behind. Like a potential date who’s both brainy and attractive, the looks draw you in but it’s the substance that makes you stay.
All the real action in the Soul 7 HD W happens in the camber pocket underfoot. The roughly medium-radius (16m @ 164cm) sidecut ends where the tip and tail rocker begin, effectively consigning the lovely tip to the simple assignment of keeping its nose out of the snow. Right behind the eye-candy shovel is a long fiberglass arch, loaded with energy. When the skier compresses the camber line at the bottom of a powder turn, the glass deforms; the instant the energy lets up, the arch recoils and the skier is delivered back to the surface, where it’s a cinch to slip across the fall line and sink into the next rhythmic arc.
GS race skis rule the open slopes, and they do so mercilessly, running as hot as they can. They oblige the skier to see things their way, rather than submit to some half-ass effort at arcing. They don’t show much interest in deviating from the fall line until they reach Mach One, and even then they don’t bow into fat, round arcs but barely deflect off their beeline course.
Like many gross generalities, the statements above don’t pertain to every member of the GS family. True, several non-FIS GS skis behave like über-specialists that only respond to well-trained technique, but Völkl got the memo that GS skis ought to be generalists, not specialists. The Racetiger GS can tuck into almost any shape of turn, grab it by the throat and ping off the edge with the energy normally associated with a slalom ski. Far from being finicky, it earned the best aggregate Finesse score among all the GS entries in the genre.
The Blizzard Bodacious has been around long enough to collect a pension, yet it remains one of the most badass big skis you can buy, bursting with youthful exuberance. Only one other ski in the genre, Nordica’s Enforcer 115 Free, deploys two sheets of Titanal, which in a ski of the Bodacious’ gargantuan dimensions creates a crud-buster with the power of a Panzer. Once they’re pointed downhill, momentum is not the problem, but keeping up with their preferred pace can be.
Because it’s built like an all-mountain ski, its ability to hold an edge is well above average for the genre. Not that you want always to ride the edge on a ski with a 30.5m sidecut radius (186cm), but the Bodacious won’t back down even on boilerplate so you could ski it – and ski it well – in any condition. And should you get in trouble and need to pull the ripcord by straight-lining to safety, no other Powder ski is as stable at speed as this Blizzard.
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.
[Neither the Cloud 12 nor its scores have changed since this review was posted two seasons ago.]
There isn’t an ounce of condescension in Atomic’s Cloud 12. Of course it doesn’t meet FIS specs, but that’s the whole point of the Technical category, to apply race room production to more versatile shapes. It retains two game-changing features that separate it, behaviorally, from the rest of the field.
The first feature to catch the eye is a rod that runs from under the binding, where it’s anchored in an elastomer base, to roughly the center of the forebody. Called Servotec, the rod is pre-stressed, so its rest position is already exerting down force on the front of the ski. When the ski is bowed during a turn, the tension on the rod relaxes; when the load on the ski is released, the rod’s recoil snaps the ski back on the snow, making edge changes feel both super accurate and totally magical.
The Cloud 12 isn’t made for the lackadaisical carver who wants to hang out on the tail end of a turn long enough to check her messages. The second self-evident feature that helps define the Cloud 12’s behavior is its svelte shape. This streamlined rocket thinks of recreational runs as another opportunity to win something, taking off down the fall line as if suddenly freed from a bad relationship.
