Alaska with the Powderwhore's -April 2014

I was fortunate to spend 11 days camping in the Tordrillo Mountains with legendary brothers Jonah and Noah Howell, along with Carston Oliver and Jay Beyer in April of 2014. Little did i know they would be working on their last film with Powderwhore productions- "Some thing else".
10 solid years of great backcountry films- Thanks bros!

We had beautiful weather for those 11 days, perfect stability and conditions for hiking up to the amazing terrain.
The cold glaciers and early sunrises really are some thing else!

The largest pillow line of my life - January 2014

In mid January of 2014 an arctic cold front set in over British Columbia, along with blue skies for the rest of the month. With a stable snowpack and good pow high up, the options for snowboarding seemed endless. It's not too often that you get to hike up and ride down just about anywhere with little concern for avalanches. I had been eying up this pillow line for over a year and it was the perfect time to give it a try.

Many thanks to Ian Provo, Pete Alport and Daniel Rönnbäck for capturing the moment that day.

Outdoor Research Tiny House Tour- Season 2, Episode 4 | British Columbia Pillows

There is the discovery, when your eyes catch the first glimpse of a pillow line. Your mind quickly assesses the fun factor, believing how easy it will be to effortlessly drop from one marshmallow cloud to the next. Why wouldn't you ski these pillows? You start hiking. At the top, the world looks a bit different. Disorientation follows, as you realize you have no idea where those inviting little puffs actually live. They seem to have crept away leaving you standing with only a visual of the flat snow at the bottom. But you decide to drop in because you've got a feeling that this is something you can do, something that you'll love. You trust the pillows and your ability to make just enough contact with your skis that it counts, but not enough to stop the momentum in the graceful pillow line pseudo fall.

The moment when you point your skis downwards a flash image of the line appears in your mind. One pseudo-turn. Oooh, nice snow—this is going to be memorable. Then, maybe a jolt or two? A face shot mid-line? A flat landing at the bottom? And then it's over. You can't recall every detail of the line. Maybe you can't remember any at all. But the dream state is still with you. Just as it should be, because skiing isn't about overanalyzing. Once you've decided to ski a pillow line, it's see it, feel it, and go.

Words by Molly Baker

Outdoor Research Tiny House Tour- Season 2, Episode 3 in Utah

Every moment in the mountains lends an opportunity to learn. A lifetime education awaits those willing to explore, watch, and listen. And sometimes we meet purveyors of the knowledge, people who have made it their intention to understand the intricacies of the snow, and share what they've learned about the many varieties of a snowflake. These snow aficionados are our greatest educators, devoted to dissecting the element that brings skiers life and death simultaneously.

The tiny house arrived in Utah at the beginning of a storm cycle that would invigorate the mountain community with pow turns, while burying a weak layer in the snowpack that would require trepidation in the backcountry. In the two weeks the tiny house lived in Utah, many slides were seen and experienced by skiers and snowboarders across the Wasatch. Instead of playing their usual roles in this act, they became the audience and learned from a friend of the Utah Avalanche Center, Trent Meisenheimer, a passionate snow safety ambassador who grew up at the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon.

Following Trent and his father Bruce (a man who should be put in the Ski-Loving Father Hall of Fame) into the special ski stashes of the Cottonwoods (yes, they still exist), the OR team investigated their own capacity to learn and re-learn what they already thought they knew. You're never too experienced in the backcountry. And there is always something new to digest.

“Education is the process of living, not preparation for the future.”


Click the link above for smokin' deals on backcountry.com right now!

Outdoor Research Tiny House Tour- Season 2, Episode 2

Words from Molly Baker-
All of us have mountains and lines that beckon to us every day, every season, every turn—Giants that loom in the periphery of our memory and thoughts. These monoliths sleep in our wildest dreams. And sometimes they creep slowly, after years of hoping and wanting, into our reality. These lines turn into days of our life that we’ll never forget. They trump weddings, graduations, and other celebrations because they represent an achievement that others can’t understand unless they spent that day with you, saw you make those turns, and felt what it was like to be in those places. These mountains and lines are officiators of greatness, if only in our own psyche. But they signify greatness that you’ll never forget (and may never surpass) because being invited into the wild by a mountain is like heaven’s doors opening for your welcome.

This December we were called into the living room of one of our favorite peaks, a mansion that stoops over our existence every day we’ve ever skied in Washington’s North Cascades. Each time we’ve ventured into the threshold of this esteemed range, we’ve cautiously dusted off our shoes at the door hesitantly asking, “Are you sure?” But the mountain has been a gracious host. Polite and accommodating, serving up everything we’d hoped for as an intimidated guest.

On our 15-hour mission in December, the gates opened with an honest certainty. Snow stability and freshness we’re expected as we climbed the nearly 7,000 vertical feet to the summit. After skiing that same distance in warm sunlight, but cold crystallized powder, back down to the valley floor, we were only half way done with the mission. We still had to go home. We still had to get back to the tiny house two drainages and another climb away. Our day and night we’re not over.

Invitations can be just like that. You can’t make assumptions based on your R.S.V.P. The party might go on for longer than you’d hoped. And mountains are surprising hosts, often temperamental. But, sometimes they let you slip out the back door, going unnoticed, like the quiet guest who sat in the corner, barely uttering a sound, but soaking in all the glorious sounds, smells, and sights, of people enjoying the time that they are alive.

Outdoor Research Tiny House Tour- Season 2, Episode 1

When 100 trees fell in December closing highway 542 to leading Mt Baker Ski Resort, We all felt pretty lucky to be in position ready to slay the untouched pow. Episode 1 - stay tuned for more coming soon from Outdoor Research
Words from Molly Baker:
Everyone wants to be the all-sacrificing powder hound, vagabonding from storm to storm, with no possessions, a bank devoid of money, but full of powder turns. In some places, we know true ski bums. People who don’t have cars, jobs, friends on powder days, or houses (or at least houses that don’t live in trees).

We know Ben Price.

A true specimen, and maybe one of the last of his kind, Ben lives deep, deep in the Cascade Mountains, living out of his tree house, a map of the peaks engrained in his mind, and more of a dedication to making turns and finding adventure than anyone you’ll meet in the mountains these days. And he does it because of one reason…wait for it…because he wants to.

Before the days of the glory and fame of the vibrant, mowhaked professional skier of the 90’s to the energy drinking XGames youth of today, there were local heroes, people who skied because of the freedom and counter-culture found in the mountains. There was some risk involved in this—giving up everything to find solace in the powder. Comforts were gone, but enlightenment was found by the skiers living in the parking lot on the periphery of what was normal.

As a snow loving community we’ve come full circle and today we’re all looking for that kind of hero. We need to draw inspiration from something unfamiliar, someone not constructed in the minds of a marketing team, but from a genuine icon—a legendary ski bum. We’re looking for Ben Price.

We found him in Washington this December and parked our tiny house in his kingdom, following this splitboarding cowboy to the last frontier. Unexplored mountains and unknown pillow lines were found. And we also discovered that in the world of ski bums there’s everyone else and then there’s Ben Price (a true snow loving freak who would hate us if he knew we put him on the Internet).

Outdoor Research- Sidecountry Sessions Episode 5 Rodgers Pass to Jackson

Link to VIDEO on Teton Gravity

The ups and downs of traveling with the Tiny House. From Rodgers pass to Jackson Hole, blown tires and blower pow!

Outdoor Research- Sidecountry Sessions Episode 3- Nelson BC

With no snow in the lower 48, Zack, Molly and I had no choice but to tug the tiny house north of the border to one of my favorite places on earth, Nelson British Columbia. The minute we arrived i knew we were in for a good trip.
The snowbanks were stacked high and there were fresh cm's on the road up to Whitewater Resort.
Check out the video!


Link to VIDEO on Teton Gravity


-Words by Molly Baker-
Whitewater is a mythical place for an American skier. Not too distant, but yet so far out of reach. As we drove north, I heard the boys talking of finding a Canadian girl to marry. There’s that option and then there’s ex-pat status. How does an American stay in Canada, land of epic powder for the winter? Or even a lifetime?

As we drove further north, our question went from how we could stay in BC to how we were getting into the country. With a house on wheels and amounts of ski gear that could outfit the entire town of Nelson, our odds seemed low. The border patrol was sure to find something wrong with our situation. But without even a mention of Ullr and his presence in the lower 48, we went north to the border anyways. It would be worth trying and getting turned around.
At least we’d have tried.

We negotiated the border an hour before the crossing in rural eastern Washington closed, hoping the officer wouldn’t want to bother with questioning at the end of his shift. Of course, they pulled us out of our trusty old truck, Rusty Deluxe, and asked us to step inside while they inspected the tiny house and our bags of gear. The two solemn, but friendly (dare I say friendly? Canadians, it’s a stereotype to be proud of…) gentlemen threw our names in a Google search, watched the Sidecountry Sessions videos, laughed and treasured the spectacle of the tiny house, and sent us through to the land of “Neldor”.

Nelson, British Columbia serves up a fruitful combination of new age yoga/hippy culture, fresh prideful food, and Canadian quaintness. The Outer Clove, Baba’s, Oso Negro Coffee, and the two natural grocers in town could feed our crew for a lifetime without dispute. A vanilla chai from the town’s hobbit hole eatery, a.k.a. The Preserved Seed, could satiate our palette after every shred day. Life is easy in a ski town like Nelson. No desire goes unsatisfied.

More importantly than the food, is what quenched our skiing appetite. According to one local gent, “Whitewater gets more fresh centimeters than any resort in BC, eh?” Although this particular winter has been drier than last year’s strong La Nina, centimeters of fresh were common. The skies didn’t clear for our first week in the Whitewater parking lot. Every morning we peered out hoping to see Ymir Peak from the tiny house, but a low ceiling of clouds obscured any such view. We stuck to the trees and enjoyed the BC powder.

Our original schemes of staying in Canada for as long as possible panned out in an inevitable issue with Rusty D. After parking the tiny house in the first row at the ski area, we drove Rusty into Nelson, only to have the 1991 brown Ford catch on fire. Two extinguishers later, plus an appearance by the local fire department and police squad, and Rusty was totaled. We learned we weren’t just “stuck” to the trees.
We also happened to be stranded in Canada, just fifty feet from the lift at Whitewater.

This kind of occurrence had happened once already in Silverton—a tiny house near epic skiing, with no vehicle to tow it away. Luckily, this time we’d fallen down the rabbit hole to Whitewater, a wonderland of sidecountry lines and charming characters—people who smile from ear to ear, yelp, and scream to their friends to come check out the little cabin on wheels.

The tiny house has made it home.

Looking up to Ymir peak from the parking lot as it takes in the last light of the day. Our tracks exiting the cuba chute on the left. Hope to make it back to wh20 to hit that face!


Pray for Powder and pick up a pair of OR mitts on the link below!

Outdoor Research- Sidecountry Sessions Episode 2

Link to VIDEO on Teton Gravity

Epic trip to the San Juans! Thanks for having us Silverton!

Words by Molly Baker
Silverton, Colorado is exactly the kind of place you want to spend the Yuletide season. Especially if you are a group of five ski bums living within 112 square feet—no shower and ski gear avalanching from every nook of space. The locals are blushingly generous, the streets caked white with snow, and the surrounding mountains a gift unlike anything that comes wrapped in waxy paper covered with Santas.

“People tour for miles and miles to get views like this,” said new friend and Silverton local Steve Mead.
“Here in Silverton we get to walk to the grocery store with these sights.”

Surrounded by peaks like The Grand Turk, at 13,160 feet, and Sultan Mountain, at 13, 368 feet, mountains towering thousands of feet above the town are the standard canvas. It’s precisely the kind of wall art we needed for the tiny house.
Looking out of any of the teensy windows, snow-covered goliaths fill every inch of glass.

Two weeks ago the Outdoor Research crew graced the San Juan Mountain town of Silverton and parked the tiny house at a secluded 9,138 feet after an intense drive over southern Colorado’s Molas Pass (intensified by a melted accelerator cable in a truck pulling a 5,000 pound trailer/house on wheels). The winding, icy mountain road ended abruptly in Silverton. Our planned five-day trip turned into over 14. At this point, we still don’t know our departure date. But, it has become apparent, there are worse places to get beached.

Built in the late 1800s, Silverton never experienced a devastating fire like many mining towns in the West during that time. Many of the original buildings in the town are still standing (along with the secret underground tunnels from Main Street to the original Red Light District). There are two streets in the “business” district: Main and Blair Street. These days there isn’t much taking place. But, during the town’s glory days, Blair Street was the home to over 40 saloons and brothels. Today only a few shops are open. Blair is where the tiny house has lived for the past two weeks, just down from the town’s hostel and the Avalanche Café.

With a year-round population of 500, the mornings are quiet albeit the occasional snow machine or dog sled drive by. Waiting for the sun to turn up the valley furnace, we’ve woken up to many negative temperature days. But the tiny house has been toasty.

A few days up at Silverton Mountain and even more out in the San Juan backcountry, we’ve found rocks, the deepest facets we’ve ever skied, and challenging avalanche conditions with no patience for skier complacency. Every line feels like your running from the bank with bags of money only to evade the cops by chance. Maybe it’s just because we hail from places like Washington and Utah, but the snowpack makes you feel like you are getting away with something everyday.

Eventually we are going to need to escape Silverton, although being on a first name basis with the owners of the cafes, the guides at the mountain, and the ripping mountain folk that thrive in this place, is going to make that a difficult move. All we need is a biblical storm to hit Jackson, Tahoe, SLC, Whistler—somewhere. At this point it’s the Jet Stream, or the mechanic’s decision, if the tiny house ever leaves the San Juans.

Support my adventures and pick up some OR gear on the link below!

Northstar couloir on Sultan Mountain- San Juan range CO.

Check out Episode 2- Sidecountry Sessions from Outdoor Research! The last 2 weeks in Silverton have been a great way to get the legs in shape. The San Juans are mighty big and steep. The resort has one lift, but it accesses so much terrain. The backcountry seems endless out here. Hiking in the high elevation really gets your blood pumping! Even though it hasn't snowed out here for since we got here, things have stayed fresh and there are still plenty of good turns to be had.

December 27th 2011 was a beautiful day to get into the alpine. Zack Giffin, Molly Baker and myself went for a classic tour above town with the help of local and good friend Matty G. Topping out at 13368 ft, it was my highest hike to date!

Making our way up the south face of Grand Turk Peak. So warm it felt like a spring day.


Looking over Molas pass


Ridge walking in the high country.


Zack making his last few steps up Sultan mountain.


It was cool to finally look down on the town from the peak i had been eyeing from from the window of the Tiny house!


Fresh snowdrifts on the summit, and a view down the Northstar couloir. Into the gut and it was 4000 ft. of fresh pow all the way back to town.

BIG thanks to Matty G, for our sickest day in Silverton!


Matty G, laying out some nice turns before the long ride down.


Thanks for the great times Silverton! Stoked to come back

Outdoor Research- Sidecountry Sessions Episode 1

Words from Teton Gravity Research - Link to VIDEO
No stranger to ski history, Sun Valley, Idaho is a living, breathing museum of the North American ski timeline, dating back to the 1930’s. On the other hand, it is an ageless place. While hosting the birthplace of some of skiing’s favorite young pros (such as Picabo Street, Lynsey Dyer and the Crist Brothers), this little Idaho hide-out still maintains the interest of mainstay figures like Warren Miller and Mike Hattrup and is the main office for companies like Smith Optics.

It all began in 1939, when the first chairlifts were installed at Bald Mountain in Sun Valley. The same year Ernest Hemingway finished “For Whom the Bell Tolls” while staying in suite 206 of the Sun Valley Lodge that fall. Lucille Ball, Clark Gable, Marilyn Monroe, and the Kennedy Family followed. Sun Valley was becoming a Hollywood haven. It wasn’t just for skiers.

Then in 1946 the most classic of all ski bums arrived.
Warren Miller made his movies from 1946 to 1949 living out of the River Run parking lot at the base of Bald Mountain.
First staging out of his car and eventually in an upgraded trailer, Miller made his mark on Sun Valley as a promised land for the occasional post World War II ski bum.

Naturally the 40th Anniversary Party for Powder Magazine took place in Sun Valley. And we wanted to be there in the Outdoor Research tiny house as a tribute to forty years of darn impressive magazine making and a passion about skiing we can only hope to convey with the Sidecountry Sessions tour. None of us had ever been to this iconic place. It was time to hit the ski history books.

We pulled into the River Run parking lot at 4 a.m. in the morning. Surely the Powder 40th Anniversary prom was over (although stories from others told us otherwise that morning at a relaxed 11:00 a.m. breakfast). The sun peaked into the tiny house around 7 a.m. An hour later, as skiers started to arrive, we looked out to see many curious faces peering in or at the tiny house. All ages and all types of boards were interested. The twenty-year-old snowboarder and his friends showed up right next to the seventy-year-old with groomer skis.

The group missed the Powder party and we never got to show Warren Miller the tiny house, but we were able to kick off the tour with many personalities, contributors, and fanatics of the ski community.

With the south faces nearly bare and an itch for powder turns, we left Sun Valley in search of the season’s storms.

Simple living in the OR tiny house!

Outdoor Research - Sidecountry Sessions trailer

Session: noun \sesh-uh’n\ Any period of time devoted to a specific activity, such as slaying pow

Words from Outdoor Research -Verticulture
“The opportunity to explore the accessible powder stashes with the most passionate locals is the mission. Getting it the best we can is our objective,” says Neil.

This winter, we’re subscribing to the gypsy life and taking off on a two-month tiny house road trip in celebration of a passion-driven, low impact, ski bum lifestyle. “We are refining the entire process of living as ski bums. It is really about figuring out what you do and don’t need. For me, I want to ski and there isn’t much else that I need,” says Zack. Over the next 6 weeks, OR ambassadors Molly Baker, Zack Giffin and Neil Provo, along with videographers Sam Giffin and Andy Walbon will be road tripping to North America’s most respected sidecountry areas in search of deep powder and influential snow loving locals.

Unlike any previous skiing road trip, the Sidecountry Sessions crew is on a mission to find the best snow and greatest communities in prominent powder territory while living out of a ski bum’s dream-home-on-wheels. Along the way, the team will be on the search for the most esteemed, enthusiastic and talented individuals to bring on as members of OR’s Grassroots Athlete Team. Could you or one of your friends be the next team member?

Based on recommendations of local skiers via Facebook (no, you can’t nominate yourself), Molly, Zack and Neil will ski, climb and adventure with chosen nominees in order to select the newest members of OR’s athlete team. “Being a part of Outdoor Research is really about being genuine with an honest devotion to a life in the mountains. It makes it really easy for the right people because they essentially continue doing whatever it is that they do and that embodies the mission of the company as a whole,” says Molly. To nominate someone you know? Post their photo to the Outdoor Research Facebook page. In the comments section, reference hash tag #SCSessions and include a brief description of why your person would be a great OR Athlete.
If we come to their hill, Molly, Zack and Neil want to get in touch with them for a session of slaying pow.

Find out what it’s like to spend the season searching for new ski talent while living in 112 square feet of unconventional living space.
Showcasing local talent, communities and mountains, watch video episodes of the Sidecountry Sessions releasing each week and find out what happens when these gypsy shredders occupy your parking lot.

The tiny house made its debut last weekend at Powder Magazine’s 40th Anniversary party in Sun Valley, Idaho.
Stay tuned to outdoorresearch.com/scsessions and Facebook for the next Sidecountry Sessions destination.

Watch the Trailer here!