FALL´23

Profile and significance

Isaac “EZ Panda” Simhon is a film-first freeski original whose style-forward approach has earned attention from Europe to North America. Born in 2000 in Cape Verde and raised in Geneva, he grew up lapping French and Swiss resorts before shifting his focus to street and park projects. A breakout came when Henrik Harlaut invited him to join the two-year movie “Salute,” which put Simhon’s relaxed precision and unmistakable flow in front of a global audience. Since then he’s doubled down on filming, appearing in rider-led projects and team edits while keeping a light competitive footprint through occasional Europa Cup appearances. The appeal is simple and durable: readable difficulty that looks effortless at normal speed.

Simhon’s identity today blends creative control with contest-tested fundamentals. He works closely with Harlaut’s crew, contributes to small-batch edits as well as full parts, and represents brands that reflect rider-led culture. Current partners include K2 Skis, Marker, Harlaut Apparel, the mate label El Tony Mate, and Swiss-based Nouch. The through-line across his output is the same whether the camera is ten meters from a city rail or perched above a spring jump: calm mechanics, early commitments, and landings that keep momentum alive.

Competitive arc and key venues

Though best known for films, Simhon’s path includes verified FIS starts and a memorable big-air appearance at the Launchpad event hosted by Les Arcs in 2021. Those bib days provided repetition on large, consequential jumps, but his real classroom has been rider-driven projects in Europe and North America. “Salute” placed him on street missions in Minnesota and creative sessions in Andorra, where he learned to translate park timing to handrails, wallrides, and tight outruns under pressure. He then featured in the Harlaut Apparel team output—“It’s That” and subsequent drops—filming across Finland, Bosnia, Austria, Stockholm, and the Pyrenees, and in 2024 he delivered a focused solo part shot in Stockholm and Andorra.

Specific venues help explain the skiing you see on camera. Early years between La Clusaz in the Aravis and the long-lap freestyle factory at LAAX built rhythm and edge honesty. Time in Andorra reinforced line design on compact, high-frequency park builds. In Switzerland, the spring lab at Pända Snowpark above Mürren offered consistent jibs and kickers to refine grab timing and presses. City work in Stockholm added the urban syllabus—short in-runs, quick redirects, and runouts that punish sloppy speed checks. The result is a toolkit that travels from resort to real-world features without losing its identity.

How they ski: what to watch for

EZ Panda skis with deliberate economy and musical timing. On rails he squares the approach early, locks in decisively, and exits with speed protected for the next setup. Surface swaps finish cleanly and presses carry visible shape instead of wobble. On jumps he favors measured spin speed and deep, functional grabs—safety, tail, or blunt depending on axis—arriving early enough to calm rotation and keep the shoulders stacked. Directional variety appears naturally, forward and switch, left and right, because every trick serves the line rather than the stat sheet.

If you’re evaluating a Simhon clip in real time, two cues stand out. First, spacing: he leaves room between moves, so each trick sets angle and cadence for the next one. Second, grab discipline: the hand finds the ski early and stays long enough to influence rotation, not just decorate the frame. That’s why his heavier spins look unhurried and why editors can run his footage at 1x speed without slow-motion rescue.

Resilience, filming, and influence

Simhon frames skiing as both craft and therapy, and that attitude shows up in the parts he chooses to make. Street shoots demand patience—shovel and salt, rebuilds after busts, and the nerve to walk away when the approach won’t hold—and his sections reward that process with clean landings and momentum that survives to the next feature. In collaborative projects, he’s a tone-setter: grips quiet, takeoffs patient, and landings finished early enough to ride out centered. Those habits make his skiing instructive for viewers who want a blueprint rather than a highlight reel.

Influence spreads through the same channels that built his name. Harlaut-led films and apparel drops give Simhon a platform that prizes style as substance, and his parts circulate widely precisely because they are legible. Younger riders copy the details—early grab commitment, subtle speed checks that don’t spill into landings, and a preference for trick choices that use an obstacle end to end. It’s a form of leadership that trades on execution, not volume.

Geography that built the toolkit

Place is the skeleton of EZ Panda’s skiing. Geneva provided proximity to the Aravis and early laps at La Clusaz, where firm winter snow and compact radii punish late commitments. Time at LAAX layered in longer lines and dense rail sections that reward cadence and clean exits. Andorra’s parks supplied repetition under variable light and quick resets between shots. Stockholm’s winter architecture taught approach discipline and quick decisions on short in-runs, while Switzerland’s Pända Snowpark refined jump timing across reliable spring setups. Put those places together and you get skiing that looks the same whether the background is a city staircase or a sun-softened rail garden.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Simhon’s kit mirrors his priorities. K2 Skis gives him a predictable, park-capable platform with balanced swing weight for early-grab, measured-spin tricks. Marker supplies dependable retention and straightforward adjustment when a spot demands multiple rebuilds. Soft goods via Harlaut Apparel fit the rider-led, film-first life—durable, mobile, and built for long days. Energy support from El Tony Mate and small-batch projects with Nouch round out a sponsor mix rooted in culture as much as function.

For skiers looking to apply the lessons, think category fit over model names. Choose a symmetrical or near-symmetrical park ski and mount it so presses feel natural without compromising takeoff stability. Keep bases fast so cadence doesn’t depend on perfect weather; tune edges to hold on steel yet soften contact points to prevent surprise bites on swaps. Above all, treat the grab as a control input—lock it early to stabilize the axis and land centered with speed for what comes next.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Isaac Simhon matters because he turns difficulty into clarity while keeping the vibe that drew many to freeski in the first place. His parts prove that style is technique—spacing, grabs that do work, clean exits—and that a line built on those choices reads beautifully in real time. Whether the setting is a Stockholm handrail, an Andorran park line, or a spring booter at Pända Snowpark, EZ Panda’s skiing offers a blueprint that fans love to rewatch and ambitious riders can actually copy on their next lap.

Profile and significance

Leo Bergström is part of Sweden’s new wave of film-first freeskiers whose names circulate through rider-run crews and scene outlets rather than start lists. A rail specialist with a calm, readable style, he first hit broader radars in Scandinavia’s park circuit and then through street-heavy projects with Suéde and the underground collective DIGIT. Early clips from Kläppen put his timing and lock-ins on display; by 2019 he was editing and skiing in the indie full-length “Metru Nui,” and in the seasons since his name has appeared on widely shared street films, including DIGIT’s “Digital World” and the 2023 release “Taking The Piss.” The draw is simple and durable: difficulty that makes sense at normal speed. Approaches are squared early, grabs are functional, and landings preserve speed so the line keeps breathing from first feature to last.

Within the Scandinavian scene, Bergström sits in that valuable middle ground between rider and maker. He contributes on camera and behind it, which helps explain why his segments age well—the trick math is transparent, and the editing supports, rather than disguises, what happened on snow. For viewers looking for a blueprint and for crews looking for reliable clips, that combination travels.

Competitive arc and key venues

Bergström’s “arc” lives in films and rider-led sessions, not in bib counts. A milestone came with the Kläppen park edit that paired his name alongside Scandinavian peers and made clear he wasn’t just cruising rails. From there, seasonal street projects with Suéde and DIGIT widened the audience, culminating in full-crew releases that core media picked up. The cadence—winter street missions, spring park laps—has remained consistent, and it shows in how his skiing reads cleanly whether the camera is ten meters from a city down-flat-down or perched above a sunset booter.

Place is a big part of the story. Spring laps at Kläppen are Scandinavia’s unofficial finishing school for rhythm and line design, with dense rail panels and medium-to-large features that reward patient takeoffs and tidy exits. In winter, Stockholm’s urban grid supplies the short in-runs, quick redirects, and tight outruns that compress decision-making into seconds. Move between those contexts and you get a toolkit that survives different surfaces without losing identity.

How they ski: what to watch for

Bergström skis with deliberate economy. On rails, approaches square up early, shoulders stay stacked, and lock-ins look committed rather than theatrical. Surface swaps resolve completely; presses show visible shape instead of wobble; exits protect momentum so the next setup arrives naturally. On jumps, he manages spin speed with deep, functional grabs—safety, tail, or blunt depending on axis—arriving early enough to quiet rotation and keep the landing centered over the feet. Directional variety appears—forward and switch, left and right—but never breaks cadence because every choice serves the line rather than a checklist.

If you’re evaluating one of his clips in real time, look for two cues that repeat. First, spacing: he leaves room between moves so each trick sets angle and speed for the next, turning a run into a sentence rather than disconnected words. Second, grab discipline: the hand finds the ski early and stays there long enough to influence rotation and pitch, which is why bigger spins look unhurried and why the footage doesn’t need slow-motion rescue to make sense.

Resilience, filming, and influence

Street seasons reward process—shovel and salt, rebuilds after busts, and the judgment to walk away when an approach won’t hold. Bergström leans into that rhythm. The DIGIT releases showcase a crew that treats style as technique: obstacle-spanning tricks, early commitments, and roll-aways that keep speed for what’s next. His earlier “Metru Nui” involvement underscored the same point from the editing bay—long grabs stabilize the axis, clean lock-ins read on camera, and momentum matters more than rotation count. That clarity is influential because it’s teachable. Younger riders can copy his patience into the lip and his habit of finishing tricks early enough to ride out centered.

Influence also arrives by association. Sharing screens with Scandinavian stylists across park and street edits builds a common language for how modern freeski should look: honest speed, clean exits, and trick choices that use an obstacle end to end. The result is a body of work that holds up on the tenth watch and doubles as study material for anyone trying to turn “style” from a vibe into decisions.

Geography that built the toolkit

Sweden’s venues explain the mechanics. Kläppen’s snowpark provides repetition on firm mornings and forgiving afternoons, a daily cycle that punishes late commitments and rewards patient takeoffs. Stockholm’s winter architecture supplies the urban syllabus—short runways, variable snow, and landings that punish sloppy speed checks—so small mistakes are visible and habits get corrected quickly. Rotate those environments through a season and you get skiing that stays itself on clean spring salt, storm refreeze, or plastic-brushed kinks alike.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Bergström’s output is park-and-street heavy, so his advice—implicit in the footage—maps to repeatability more than hype. Choose a symmetrical or near-symmetrical park ski and mount it so presses feel natural without compromising takeoff stability. Keep bases fast so cadence doesn’t depend on perfect weather; tune edges to hold on steel yet soften contact points enough to avoid surprise bites on swaps. Build a lens plan for urban light—something that preserves contrast under LEDs and flat days—so you can keep run speed honest. None of this replaces timing, but the right platform makes good timing repeatable across long filming days.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Leo Bergström matters because he turns elite street and park difficulty into runs anyone can follow in real time. The films and clips that carry his name—Scandi streets in DIGIT projects, spring lines at Kläppen—are rewatchable not because they hide mistakes, but because the mechanics are honest: early commitments, functional grabs, centered landings, and momentum protected from one feature to the next. For fans, that clarity makes the segments stick. For skiers, it offers a concrete checklist you can apply on your next lap: square the approach, lock the grab early to steer the axis, finish the move with time to spare, and leave every feature with the speed you’ll need for whatever comes next.

Profile and significance

Yohan Lovey—better known by his moniker “Sleepy Grill”—is a Swiss freeski original who treats street and park skiing as a medium for ideas. Emerging from the Buldozlife crew, he built a reputation for segments that reward rewatching: patient setups, unmistakable presses, unusual axes and grabs that still land centered. In late 2024 he dropped “Daydreaming,” a full street part filmed across Stockholm, Umeå, and Andorra and produced by Harlaut Apparel Co.; the cut placed him firmly on the radar of riders who learn from edits as much as from results sheets. At the same time, Lovey became part of Salomon’s creative Départ project—an athlete-and-filmmaker circle stewarded by Sämi Ortlieb—aligning his approach with a brand program that celebrates flow and self-expression over scorecards, and with hardware in the Départ line from Salomon. The synthesis is clear: he is an editor’s skier and a skier’s editor, an athlete whose clips make modern freeskiing legible without diluting its personality.

Competitive arc and key venues

Lovey’s lane is film-first. The résumé that matters is a string of rider-led projects rather than heat sheets: Buldozlife shorts that circulated through the European scene, a 2023 street mini that previewed his current direction, and “Daydreaming,” which stitched together city snowpacks and Pyrenean nights into a single statement. The venues in that part tell you a lot about his process. Stockholm’s winter streets—start at the official city guide of Visit Stockholm—serve up rails and walls with short in-runs where honest speed and clean edging decide whether a line works. Umeå in northern Sweden, described by Visit Umeå as a culture hub ringed by accessible nature, adds compact approaches and changing light that punish rushed takeoffs. Andorra contributes the night-lap cadence that street skiers love; the country’s official portal, Visit Andorra, and Grandvalira’s evening program at Sunset Park Peretol show why the Pyrenees became a second home for European crews who want repetition under lights. In parallel, Départ’s team film “Open” toured with Salomon’s Quality Ski Time Film Tour while the Départ ski line matured on Salomon’s Départ 1.0 platform—proof that Lovey’s art-school take on skiing now has a well-defined stage and toolset.

How they ski: what to watch for

Lovey skis with economy and definition—the two traits that make tricky ideas readable. Into a takeoff he stays tall and neutral, sets rotation late, and establishes the grab before 180 degrees so the axis breathes on camera. On steel he prefers square, unhurried entries; presses and backslides that hold just long enough to be unmistakable; and surface swaps with minimal arm swing. Exits are shoulder-aligned so momentum flows to the next feature instead of dying on the landing. When he experiments with off-axis tweaks or bring-backs, the success comes from organization rather than surprise: edge pressure is prepared early, the skis release cleanly, and the re-engagement feels inevitable rather than rescued. Slow any Sleepy Grill clip down and you will still see a complete sentence—setup, definition, stacked landing—rather than punctuation marks stitched together.

Resilience, filming, and influence

Lovey’s influence compounds through film craft. “Daydreaming” wasn’t just a list of tricks; it was a pacing lesson—shots framed wide enough to show slope angle and honest approach speed, with edits that give the viewer time to grasp why a choice works. Earlier Buldozlife chapters leaned into the same values, using tight budgets and careful spot prep to make ideas read clearly. His involvement with Salomon’s Départ project added a second channel: a brand-backed ecosystem where skiers, filmmakers and designers share authorship, an approach that matches his habit of treating skis, songs, and camera angles as equal actors. Because the footage survives slow-motion scrutiny, it feeds coaches and emerging riders with practical checkpoints. Over time, that clarity shapes taste: once you notice early grab definition and square-shoulder exits in his parts, you start seeing missing beats in noisier edits elsewhere.

Geography that built the toolkit

Place explains the method. The Swiss street circuit forged patience at realistic speeds, with thin cover and quick resets that expose sloppy edging right away. Stockholm contributes civic architecture and winter maintenance patterns that create repeatable rails and banks; Visit Stockholm is a useful window into how the city moves in winter, which matters when timing your sessions. Umeå’s compact urban grid, mapped by Visit Umeå, layers in short run-ins and soft light that reward calm entries and late sets. Andorra supplies nighttime rhythm and park density; Grandvalira’s Sunset Park Peretol—open evenings in season—offers the frequency that turns good intentions into habits. Thread those geographies together and the fingerprints in Lovey’s skiing make perfect sense: patient pop, early trick definition, and exits that keep the line alive.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Lovey rides with Harlaut Apparel and skis within Salomon’s Départ program, whose freestyle shapes—see the Départ 1.0—prioritize pop you can trust and flex you can bend without folding. For viewers trying to borrow the feel, the hardware lessons are simple and portable. Choose a true twin with a balanced, medium flex that accepts a thoughtful detune at the contact points while keeping dependable grip on the lip; mount near center so presses sit level and switch landings feel neutral; avoid binding ramp angles that push you into the backseat so hips can stack over feet. Just as important is workflow. Film your laps, pause on whether the grab is defined before 180 degrees, check shoulder alignment at the exit, and repeat. That checklist—visible in “Daydreaming” and Départ clips—turns style into a skill you can practice, whether the backdrop is a city handrail, a small resort park, or an evening session in the Pyrenees.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Fans care about Sleepy Grill because his skiing makes creativity readable. The clips favor timing, composition, and line design over noise, which is why they age well and teach well. Progressing skiers care because the same choices scale to normal parks and real streets: stay tall into the lip, set late, define the grab early, hold presses long enough to read, and exit with shoulders square so speed survives for what’s next. With a street part produced by Harlaut Apparel Co., a creative home in Salomon’s Départ, and a venue map that runs from Stockholm to Umeå to Andorra, Lovey offers both a proof and a path: freeskiing that looks inventive on screen and feels repeatable on Tuesday-night laps.