practices makes master?

Profile and significance

Daniel “Dani” Bacher is an Austrian freeski standout whose rapid rise from the Stubai Valley to the sport’s biggest stages made him one of Europe’s most closely watched slopestyle and big air riders. Born in 2004 and based around Innsbruck, he represents Austria’s A-Team and TU Innsbruck in park-and-pipe disciplines, translating junior promise into senior-level hardware with uncommon speed. The headline results arrived early and emphatically: a Big Air bronze at X Games Aspen 2024 at Buttermilk, a World Cup podium with second place at Big Air Chur in October 2023, and Olympic starts at Beijing 2022. Add in double silver medals at the 2021 Junior World Championships and solid Youth Olympic Games finishes in 2020, and the picture is clear: Bacher is a proven contest closer with a style the camera loves and judges reward.

Equally important is how those results were earned. Bacher’s calling card is “playful power”—tail-butter initiations into high-value doubles, precise grabs held long enough to stabilize axis, and a habit of using course architecture in surprising, judge-legible ways. That mix has carried him from local lines on Stubai Glacier to stadium-lit scaffolding and live broadcasts without losing the clarity that drew attention in the first place.

Competitive arc and key venues

Bacher’s pathway tracks cleanly through modern benchmarks. As a teenager he logged sixth in big air and seventh in slopestyle at the 2020 Winter Youth Olympics, then converted that momentum into two silver medals at Junior Worlds in 2021. The senior leap came fast: he qualified for Beijing 2022 at age 17, finishing 21st in big air and 17th in slopestyle in his Olympic debut. The following season opened with a breakthrough World Cup podium—second at the festival-style Big Air stop in Chur—before he stepped onto the biggest non-Olympic stage with bronze in X Games Big Air at Buttermilk in January 2024. The consistency across formats matters: stadium big air, long-panel slopestyle, and pressure-heavy finals have all yielded high-end runs.

Venues explain the shape of that résumé. Stubai’s autumn parks on Stubai Glacier provided early-season repetitions on large, cleanly shaped features, ideal for dialing speed and takeoff timing. The Chur big air—set in Switzerland’s oldest city—demanded precise approach mechanics on a single, consequential jump under lights and cameras. And Buttermilk, home of X Games, rewarded the full package: rail economy, directional variety on jumps, and the composure to adapt when the broadcast environment adds noise.

How they ski: what to watch for

Bacher’s skiing is instantly readable because he makes deliberate choices that keep a run’s shape intact. On rails, approaches are squared early and body position stays stacked, so lock-ins look decisive rather than dramatic and exits preserve speed into the next setup. On jumps, he favors measured spin speed and deep, stabilizing grabs that let him hold axis through the apex and land centered. The signatures that popped on his X Games bronze run—creative use of the lip with tail taps, and a switch leftside tail-butter double cork 1440 safety—show how he layers difficulty without sacrificing cadence. When he changes direction or stance, the line keeps breathing; there’s space between moves, which is why his runs look smooth to casual viewers while still scoring with technical panels.

Two tells help you evaluate a Bacher lap. First, the grab timing: he commits early and holds long enough to influence rotation, not just decorate it. Second, the way he “borrows” from buttered entries on the snow to set clean takeoffs for high-risk tricks. Those habits are portable across venues and conditions, which is why his contest skiing seems to travel well from one build to the next.

Resilience, filming, and influence

Bacher’s 2023–24 season highlighted composure as much as difficulty. In Aspen he mixed heavy tricks with showmanship—without letting novelty overwhelm execution—and even handled an in-run mishap without losing momentum in the overall performance narrative. That balance has helped him resonate beyond raw results sheets. Brands have taken notice—he rides for Armada Skis and appears on Monster Energy’s roster—and media coverage has emphasized that his creativity is anchored in fundamentals. For younger skiers, his approach validates a modern blueprint: rehearse clean mechanics at home, bring a distinct trick vocabulary to big builds, and let originality live inside a structured run rather than replacing it.

While contests are the spine of his career to date, Bacher’s clips also translate to film. Short pieces and team edits underline the same values—economical body position, held grabs, and smart speed checks—so his skiing remains watchable on replay without slow-motion crutches. That rewatchability is part of his influence; it turns “style” from a vibe into a set of teachable details.

Geography that built the toolkit

Place explains a lot about Bacher’s control. Growing up in the Stubai Valley meant frequent laps on the Stubai Glacier, where the early-season park is famous for consistent lips, honest speed, and firm landings that demand centered technique. Innsbruck’s scene adds dense repetition and community—athletes share lines, coaches emphasize detail, and the calendar offers frequent chances to scale tricks before winter arrives in full. When his schedule pulls him outward, those habits stick: in Chur he manages a single-feature spotlight; in Aspen at Buttermilk he sustains momentum across a deep, televised field.

That geographic loop—home repetitions on glacier parks, European city big airs, and North American major-event venues—shows up in how he visualizes courses. Speed control stays honest, trick choices fit the available runway, and landings arrive over the feet rather than as saves.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

With Armada Skis underfoot and Monster Energy support, Bacher’s kit reflects durability and predictable platform feel—exactly what repeated rail contact and high-risk jump attempts require. For progressing skiers, the actionable lessons are straightforward: choose a symmetrical or near-symmetrical park ski with reinforced edges and a mount point that supports presses without compromising takeoff stability; keep edges tuned to hold on steel but detuned at contact points to avoid surprise bites on swaps; and maintain fast bases so cadence doesn’t depend on perfect weather. Equipment won’t replace technique, but the right platform makes Bacher-style repeatability possible across long contest or filming days.

Beyond hardgoods, look at venue choices as part of the “kit.” Early laps on Stubai Glacier and big-event exposure at Buttermilk create a feedback loop: refine on consistent features, then test under pressure when lights and cameras add variables. That rhythm is a practical template for anyone trying to scale from local parks to international starts.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Dani Bacher matters because he blends creativity with contest-grade clarity. He’s already delivered at X Games, stood on a World Cup podium in Chur, and represented Austria at the Olympic Games—and he did it with runs that make sense in real time. For viewers, that means performances worth rewatching; for skiers, it offers a blueprint built on timing, held grabs, and momentum management rather than on single-use spectacle. If you follow freeski for slopestyle and big air that hold up long after the broadcast, keep Bacher on your radar—the toolkit is proven, and the ceiling is still rising.

Profile and significance

Édouard “Edjoy” Therriault is a Canadian freeski original from Lorraine, Québec, born in 2003, whose blend of creativity and big-ticket execution made him a fixture on World Cup broadcasts and a cult favorite in modern park skiing. After grabbing global attention with big air silver at the 2021 World Championships in Aspen, he added World Cup podiums in both slopestyle and big air, a start at the Olympic Winter Games, and multiple appearances at the X Games. In June 2025, still only 22, he announced he was stepping away from the World Cup start gate to pursue film-forward, art-driven skiing—leaning into the same “frequenski” ethos that has always set him apart. His partners mirror that identity: he rides for Atomic and pours creative energy into projects with Monster Energy, streetwear collective Capeesh Supply, and Québec core retailer D-Structure.

Therriault’s nickname hints at the program. “Edjoy” is both a persona and an instruction: make skiing read like live music. The approach shows up in trick selection, in how he punctuates lines, and in edits that mix painting, filming, and sound design. He is a true crossover—contest-tested yet unmistakably an artist on skis—whose output resonates with park skiers, judges, and casual viewers in equal measure.

Competitive arc and key venues

The progression beats are clear. In 2019 he won junior world slopestyle gold at Sweden’s Kläppen, a venue renowned for shaping world-class park skiers. Two seasons later, at Aspen’s Buttermilk, he landed a clutch final-run switch double bio 1800 to claim silver at the FIS World Championships—Canada’s best big air result at that level at the time. He followed with a first World Cup podium in slopestyle at Font-Romeu in January 2022 and then a big air silver on the stadium jump at Beijing’s Shougang Park in December 2023. Along the way he earned starts at the X Games in Aspen, a setting that rewards both amplitude and personality.

These sites are more than pins on a map. Kläppen compresses decision-making into clean rail work and measured jump speed. Buttermilk demands multi-feature flow under cameras and crowds. Font-Romeu’s Pyrenean light and rhythm emphasize landings that preserve speed. Shougang’s permanent city big air, framed by repurposed steelworks, tests commitment under pressure. As he transitions from tour stops to film missions, expect those habits to translate: precise approaches, trick variety with purpose, and outruns that stay quiet without showy recoveries.

How they ski: what to watch for

Edjoy’s trademark is timing. He commits to grabs early—safety, tail, or blunt to taste—and holds them long enough to calm the axis and keep the shoulders stacked. It’s why his spins, even at 18 and 19 rotations, read as deliberate rather than frantic. Switch entries arrive with proper drift control, not skid; takeoffs are tall and patient; landings finish over the feet with speed intact. On rails he prefers decisive lock-ins and exits that protect line momentum. Nothing feels accidental, yet nothing feels over-coached—the rare balance of skate-inspired looseness and contest-grade precision.

When evaluating a Therriault lap, look for spacing. He leaves room between moves so each trick sets up the next one. Look also at how the grab choice stabilizes the spin instead of decorating it; that discipline keeps axes clean even when the rotation count climbs. The effect is skiing that plays beautifully at normal speed and rewards frame-by-frame rewatching.

Resilience, filming, and influence

World-level highs came early, but the story since 2024 has been autonomy. Injury spells and the grind of qualification reshaped his priorities, culminating in a 2025 decision to step away from World Cup big air and slopestyle. Rather than soft-pedaling, he redirected the same intensity toward projects that merge street features, backcountry booters, and visual art. The result is a rider who still treats difficulty as a canvas, just without the clock. Because he communicates his process—why a certain grab choice steadies a bio axis, how to build speed into short landings—his clips double as teaching material. Younger skiers imitate his patience into lips and his habit of finishing tricks early enough to ride away with composure.

Influence also comes from tone. Edjoy champions style as substance, not garnish. The mantra—be your own jazz—encourages skiers to choose tricks that suit the venue, then execute them with rhythm, not panic. That perspective travels well, whether the setting is an urban kink in Montréal, a spring line on Whistler’s public park, or a single-hit stadium jump.

Geography that built the toolkit

Therriault grew up lapping the Laurentians at Tremblant, where cold Quebec nights and compact snow teach honest edge angles and measured speed checks. As his calendar expanded, the places became teachers: junior world gold at Kläppen reinforced variety and flow; Worlds silver at Buttermilk validated composure on camera; a first World Cup slopestyle podium at Font-Romeu rewarded terrain-reading in variable light; big air silver at Shougang Park proved he could deliver under stadium pressure. Those venues—and the communities surrounding them—explain why his skiing feels centered no matter the build.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Edjoy’s current hardware is straightforward and functional. With Atomic he uses park-capable platforms built for pop and predictable swing weight, ideal for early-grab, measured-spin skiing. Energy and production backing from Monster Energy keeps the cameras rolling when a project needs multiple build days. Apparel from Capeesh Supply and shop support via D-Structure tie him to the creative, rider-run side of the sport.

For skiers trying to borrow from his playbook, the actionable notes are simple. Choose a symmetrical or near-symmetrical park ski and mount so butters and presses feel natural without sacrificing stability on takeoff. Keep edges sharp enough to hold on steel but soften contact points to avoid surprise bites. Pick goggle lenses that preserve contrast at dusk, typical of evening sessions at city-style venues like Chur and in flat light common to alpine bowls. Most importantly, treat the grab as a control input: locking it early stabilizes the axis and keeps landings clean.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Édouard Therriault matters because he reconciles freeskiing’s two big impulses—art and sport—without diluting either. He owns a world championship medal, World Cup podiums, and Olympic and X Games credentials, yet he’s equally committed to film segments that advance style, sound, and story. The skiing itself is readable at full speed, the choices are intentional, and the execution holds up under the brightest lights. Whether you watch for slopestyle craft, big air nerve, or the next wave of street-influenced edits, Edjoy offers a blueprint: creativity first, mechanics tight, momentum preserved. That combination is why he sits near the center of freeski culture even as he steps away from ranking points and leans harder into the work that made his name.

Profile and significance

Ferdinand “Ferdi” Dahl is a Norwegian freeski original whose blend of contest pedigree and culture-building has made him one of the most influential park and street skiers of his generation. Born in 1998 and raised around Oslo, he broke through on the biggest stages with multiple medals at the X Games—slopestyle bronze in 2019, slopestyle silver in 2021, and slopestyle bronze again in 2023—while stacking nine FIS World Cup podiums and two Olympic appearances, including an eighth place in slopestyle at PyeongChang 2018. Those results alone would secure his status. But Dahl’s impact extends further: he co-founded the rider-led Jib League series that reframed what a freeski “contest” could be, and he channels his design sensibility into the apparel label Capeesh Supply. The result is a rare dual footprint—elite competitor and thoughtful scene shaper—whose skiing reads clearly at full speed and whose projects elevate the wider culture.

Today, Dahl’s priorities span performance and stewardship. You’ll still see him under stadium lights at Buttermilk in Aspen during X Games week or dropping mid-winter edits from Europe and North America. You’ll also see him building spaces for others to shine, whether that’s hosting a jam-style Jib League stop with fellow founders James “Woodsy” Woods and Øystein Bråten, or releasing small-batch garments that carry Capeesh’s playful, skaterly aesthetic. He skis for Vishnu Freeski and rides with Monster Energy, a sponsor mix that mirrors his commitment to rider-run creativity and broadcast-level execution.

Competitive arc and key venues

Dahl’s contest résumé maps the modern freeski ladder. Early Europa Cup and World Cup starts led to a breakout Olympic debut at the PyeongChang 2018 Games, staged at Korea’s Phoenix Park, where he placed eighth in men’s slopestyle. World Cup consistency followed, culminating in nine podiums and back-to-back seasons ranked among the very best in slopestyle overall. In Aspen, the X Games medals arrived across four winters, validating a trick vocabulary and run composition that judges reward and fans replay.

Venue context explains why his skiing travels so well. Buttermilk rewards multi-feature flow and line design under heavy camera pressure; Phoenix Park’s Olympic stage compresses everything into immaculate takeoffs and unforgiving landings; Austria’s in-city Nordkette Skyline Park demands cadence on dense rail panels; Sweden’s Kläppen serves long spring laps where measured speed and early commitments separate a good run from a great one. As Dahl pivoted some focus toward film and rider-led events, he didn’t abandon competition; he reframed it. Jib League’s jam format—skier voting, style-forward criteria—moved the needle while keeping the difficulty and clarity that defined his World Cup and X Games success.

How they ski: what to watch for

Dahl’s skiing is a case study in readable difficulty. On rails, approaches are squared early, body position stays stacked, and lock-ins look decisive rather than dramatic. Surface swaps resolve cleanly; presses have shape instead of wobble; exits protect momentum into the next setup. On jumps, he favors measured spin speed and deep, functional grabs—safety, tail, or blunt held long enough to stabilize the axis. That early grab timing keeps shoulders quiet and landings centered, so the outrun breathes instead of becoming a last-second save. Directional variety—forward and switch, left and right—shows up without breaking cadence because every choice serves the line.

Two tells help you “read” a Dahl run in real time. First, spacing. He leaves room between moves, so each trick creates setup for the next one rather than stealing from it. Second, grab discipline. The hand finds the ski early and stays there long enough to influence rotation, not just decorate the frame. That’s why even his bigger spins look calm, and why editors can present his clips at normal speed without resorting to slow-motion rescue.

Resilience, filming, and influence

Longevity at the top level requires adaptation. After years of traveling the World Cup and major-event circuit, Dahl broadened his canvas: spring projects in the Alps, on-camera head-to-heads in SLVSH games, and the co-creation of Jib League with Woods and Bråten. The through-line is composure. Whether the setting is a single-hit scaffolding jump, a multi-feature slopestyle course, or a dense rail garden at Nordkette, he protects speed, commits to control inputs early, and finishes tricks with enough time to ride away clean. That reliability earns trust—from judges tallying slopestyle scores, from peers voting in jam formats, and from filmmakers who want clips that hold up after ten replays.

Influence shows up far beyond podium photos. Jib League’s format centers skiers as voters and storytellers, and its stops have become required viewing for anyone who cares how style and difficulty can coexist. Capeesh, meanwhile, exports the same ethos via apparel drops and creative videos—small teams, rider agency, humor intact. Add in years of high-profile clips and a deep library of World Cup runs archived at Olympics.com, and you have a body of work that doubles as instruction: honest speed, early commitments, centered landings.

Geography that built the toolkit

Place is the skeleton of Dahl’s skiing. Oslo’s compact hills and firm winter snow built edge honesty and quick decision-making; repeated laps discipline the feet and hands. The Alps supplied longer radii and faster in-runs, especially at Nordkette, where dense features reward timing and rail economy. Spring blocks at Kläppen layered in rhythm on creative setups and medium-to-large booters, and the annual pilgrimage to Buttermilk honed broadcast composure. On the Olympic stage at Phoenix Park, he proved those habits survive the brightest lights. Stitch those environments together and you get a toolkit that travels: protect momentum, manage spin speed with the grab, and keep the run’s shape intact from first rail to last landing.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Dahl’s current setup mirrors his philosophy. With Vishnu Freeski he rides a park-capable platform with balanced swing weight and reinforced edges that tolerate repeated rail contact without unpredictable flex. Energy and event support from Monster Energy keeps the spotlight on projects that showcase skier agency, while Capeesh Supply lets him translate taste into design. If you’re looking to borrow from his gear decisions, the lesson is category fit over model names: choose a symmetrical or near-symmetrical park ski, mount it so butters and presses feel natural without compromising takeoff stability, keep bases fast so cadence survives cold or salt, and tune edges to hold on steel yet soften contact points to avoid surprise bites on swaps. Equipment won’t replace timing, but the right platform makes good timing repeatable across long filming days and pressure-heavy finals.

Equally practical is how he structures a season. Early repetitions on consistent parks sharpen approach mechanics; jam-style events test composure under variable pace and crowd energy; and marquee weeks at places like Buttermilk demand the full package—rail clarity, directional variety on jumps, and airtight landings. That rhythm is a template ambitious riders can copy on the path from local edits to international relevance.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Ferdinand Dahl matters because he turns elite difficulty into clarity and then uses his platform to grow the culture around it. He owns multiple X Games medals, deep World Cup credentials, and Olympic finals experience, yet he’s just as committed to rider-run spaces like Jib League and to creative output through Capeesh. The skiing itself is easy to follow at normal speed because the mechanics are honest: early grab commitment, measured spin speed, and landings that preserve momentum for the next move. For viewers, that means segments worth replaying; for developing skiers, it offers a concrete checklist—square the approach, use the grab as a control input, finish the trick early, and let the line breathe. That combination of results, readability, and stewardship is why Ferdi sits at the center of freeski culture today, whether the backdrop is an Olympic venue, a televised course in Colorado, or a rail garden above Innsbruck.

Profile and significance

Jackson “Tito” Jenkins is a Utah-born freeski athlete and street-focused park skier whose name has been circulating in core ski circles since he was a kid. Raised around the Wasatch and now based in the Park City zone, he built a reputation early as a fearless jibber with a raw, DIY attitude, the kind of skier who would show up in broken boots and nearly edgeless skis and still look comfortable on handrails and kinked features. Today he is best known as part of the new-wave jib generation connected with the Capeesh crew, a finalist for Level 1’s SuperUnknown 21, and an athlete riding custom boots with DaleBoot. His path is defined less by traditional contest circuits and more by films, crew edits and an unwavering focus on rail and street skiing progression.

Jenkins has grown from a local “kid who slays” on community forums into a fixture in some of the most talked-about contemporary jib projects. His name shows up in rider lists for independent films and crew edits, from spring park movies to grittier urban-style projects, and he sits in that sweet spot where insiders know exactly who he is while the broader freeski audience is just starting to catch on. For ski fans who care about creative rails, inventive spots and the culture around modern jib skiing, he is one of the young names to watch.

Competitive arc and key venues

Jenkins’ story starts in the local-contest trenches. As a pre-teen he was already turning heads at grassroots events along the Wasatch Front, including a second-place finish at the 2013 SLUG Games “Winter Wizardry” park contest at Brighton Resort, a classic Utah rail-jam style event. Around the same time, discussions on core freeski forums highlighted him as an 11-year-old from Ogden charging rails and jumps with a level of comfort far beyond his age, hinting at a trajectory that could stretch well into his twenties if he stayed healthy and motivated.

Instead of moving into structured slopestyle World Cup programs, Jenkins leaned further into the film and crew environment. That decision paid off in 2024 when he was selected as a finalist for Level 1’s SuperUnknown 21, held at Mammoth Mountain, a proving ground where the global jib community watches very closely to see who will define the next wave. Around the same period, he appeared in “GUNS FOR HIRE”, a spring film shot at Brighton Resort, Park City Mountain and Alta Ski Area, and joined the Capeesh crew on projects that included summer sessions at Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood and the multi-year Schøneben project leading into Ethan Cook’s film “Catpiss”. These venues—Brighton’s dense parks, Park City’s lines, Alta’s side-hits and Hood’s summer glaciers—form the backbone of his competitive and creative development.

How they ski: what to watch for

Jenkins’ skiing is built around a strong jib toolkit and an eye for lines that feel satisfying to watch on repeat. On rails he favours technicality delivered with calm body language rather than flailing to force tricks around. Expect to see him lock into kinks with solid edge control, hold presses longer than seems comfortable and link multiple swaps and direction changes while still exiting clean and fast. His consistency on metal allows him to experiment with unusual features—short down rails into walls, close-out options, transfers between parallel rails and improvised setups that appear only once in a spot.

On jumps, his trick selection sits firmly in the modern jib canon: spins with authority but not gratuitous spin count, grabs that are clearly visible and often tweaked, and a tendency to treat takeoffs as a canvas for creativity. Side-hits, rollers and quarterpipe-style transitions bring out some of his most characteristic movements, from nose-butter entries into spins to subtle body rotations that let him land looking relaxed instead of rushed. For viewers watching his clips from SuperUnknown, Capeesh edits or Utah park projects, the details worth studying are how early he sets his spin, how quietly his upper body behaves on rails and the way he carries speed from one feature to the next.

Resilience, filming, and influence

Part of Jenkins’ lore comes from his early years skiing on gear that most riders would consider unworkable—stories circulate of him lacing broken Raichle boots together and riding skis with almost no edges left, still finding ways to attack rails with confidence. That rough-around-the-edges phase forged a resilience that shows up in his current work: he is comfortable putting in long days on park laps, street sessions and travel days, knowing that the final film segment will only include a fraction of the attempts and hours invested.

His progression into films like “GUNS FOR HIRE” and his presence in Capeesh projects, including the Schøneben edit and the forthcoming “Catpiss” movie tour, place him inside a creative ecosystem where riders, filmers and designers are constantly pushing each other. These projects reach audiences through premiere tours in cities like Salt Lake City, Montreal, Copenhagen and Innsbruck, and through digital releases that circulate widely among core freeski fans. Jenkins’ role in these crews is not just about tricks; it is about contributing a consistent, recognisable flavour of skiing that elevates the whole project and inspires younger park skiers who see a path from local edits to international film credits.

Geography that built the toolkit

Growing up in northern Utah with a hometown connection to Ogden and a riding base around Park City and the Cottonwood canyons has given Jenkins a powerful geographic advantage. The daily cycle of lapping Brighton Resort, sessioning parks at Park City Mountain and exploring natural jibs and side-hits around Alta Ski Area creates an environment where creativity is almost unavoidable. Short, feature-dense laps and big winter snow totals mean he can try tricks repeatedly in a single day and experiment with new lines whenever storm cycles reshape the terrain.

Summer extends the toolkit. At Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood he joins the migration of park skiers who live on salted lanes and glacier-side rope tows, stacking film clips when most resorts are long closed. Internationally, his involvement with Capeesh takes him to European locations such as Schøneben, where the crew is known for turning everything—from lift infrastructure to parking-lot features—into a potential spot. The result is a rider who is comfortable whether the feature is a perfectly cut park rail, a sketchy stair set in town or a snow-starved early-season setup built by friends.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Equipment-wise, one of the most distinctive relationships in Jenkins’ setup is his connection with DaleBoot, a company specialising in fully custom ski boots. Custom-fitted shells and liners are a significant upgrade from the improvised gear of his early days, giving him the foot hold and flex pattern necessary to land big rail tricks, gap onto features and absorb heavy impacts without sacrificing comfort. For jib-focused skiers, that choice underlines how crucial boot fit is for control on metal and hardpack takeoffs.

On the softgoods and vibe side, he appears regularly with the Capeesh crew, whose fashion-house approach to outerwear and streetwear matches the aesthetic of their skiing. While not every viewer will want or need that exact kit, the takeaway is that gear should support how you ski and how you move through the park: durable pants and jackets that survive close contact with rails, gloves and helmets that can handle repeated impacts, and skis that balance flex for presses with enough backbone for bigger features. Jenkins’ evolution from taped-together boots to tailored equipment illustrates how smart gear choices can unlock more ambitious projects without compromising style.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Fans care about Jackson “Tito” Jenkins because he represents a pure expression of the jib-scene dream: a kid from Utah who grew up lapping local parks, earning respect in small grassroots contests and internet edits, and then parlaying that dedication into spots in respected films and a SuperUnknown final. His skiing speaks directly to park rats and aspiring street skiers who want to see tricks and spots that feel attainable with hard work rather than just circus-level rotations on the biggest jumps in the world.

For progressing skiers, his career path offers a realistic blueprint. You do not need a national-team pipeline or a perfect training centre to matter in freeski culture; you need creativity, time on snow, a crew that pushes you and the willingness to build your own features when necessary. Watching Jenkins in Utah parks, on Mt. Hood glaciers or in Capeesh’s European segments, it is clear that his influence comes from the lines he chooses and the way he skis them, not just the trick list. That combination of authenticity, resilience and steadily rising profile is exactly why he deserves a place on the radar of anyone who loves modern freeskiing, especially on the park, rail and street side of the sport.

Profile and significance

Joona Kangas is one of the clearest examples of how modern freeskiing can blend contest success with a deep film and street pedigree. Born in 1997 and raised in Finland, he came up through local hills like Himos before settling in Lapland and riding for Levi Ski Club. That northern upbringing, with long winters and floodlit parks, shaped a skier who would go on to win the 2014 FIS Freestyle Junior World Championships in men’s slopestyle and later represent Finland at the 2018 Winter Olympics. For many fans, though, his legacy is just as tied to the gritty, DIY style of the Keesh collective and a steady stream of influential video parts.

Within the freeski community, Kangas is regarded as a style leader rather than a numbers-only contest machine. His best competition years overlapped with his rise online: SLVSH games, Keeshlife edits, and later full parts like “Land of the Darker Sun” turned him into a reference point for skiers looking for a loose, creative but highly controlled approach. That combination of technical depth and effortless-looking flow keeps his clips circulating on social feeds long after individual contest results fade from memory.

Today, Kangas balances life as a professional skier with business studies, using his time at Häme University of Applied Sciences to build skills that support his career off the hill. Supported by multiple international sponsors and still active at the top level of freestyle, he has shifted toward “skiing on his own terms”—fewer World Cup starts, more filming, more invitational events, and more influence on how freeski style evolves.

Competitive arc and key venues

Kangas’ competitive arc moved fast. After dominating junior ranks in Finland, he broke through internationally by winning the 2014 Junior World Championship slopestyle title in Chiesa in Valmalenco, Italy. That result announced him as one of the strongest young riders in Europe, especially impressive given that it came in only his first handful of FIS events. It also set up his move onto the World Cup circuit, where he began to test his rail-dominant, creative approach against the best in the world.

On the FIS World Cup tour he stacked a series of strong showings in slopestyle and big air. Key highlights include a seventh place in slopestyle at Seiser Alm, Italy, and a ninth place in slopestyle at Quebec City, Canada, in 2017—both results that put him within touching distance of the podium at fully stacked events. An eleventh-place finish at Snowmass, USA, early in the 2017–18 season confirmed that his run construction could earn serious scores when he held it together top to bottom. Those results, combined with his world junior title, were enough to secure Olympic selection.

At the PyeongChang 2018 Winter Olympics, Kangas was the only male slopestyle skier representing Finland. The course favored big, risky rail approaches and heavy trick density—conditions that matched his strengths on paper—but he was unable to land the full package in qualification and finished outside the final. Even so, his presence at the Games, backed by his World Cup top-10s, cemented his status as a world-level athlete before he chose to step away from full-time FIS competition in 2019.

Since then, “events” for Kangas have meant another kind of stage. You are more likely to see him at Jib League stops, SuperUnknown sessions, or invited shootings in parks like Kläppen than at a standard open field World Cup. A 2025 profile from Häme University of Applied Sciences highlighted that he was named best male skier at a SuperUnknown gathering in California, underlining that his peers still view him as one of the sport’s most complete riders even outside the conventional ranking system.

How they ski: what to watch for

Kangas’ skiing is built around three pillars: powerful rail precision, relaxed airtime, and a constant search for slightly different takeoffs and landings. On rails, he is known for centered, locked-on slides and presses that look casual but leave no margin for error. Watch how he uses surface swaps, quick direction changes and subtle nose or tail pressure to create lines that zigzag across an entire rail section instead of simply ticking off one feature at a time.

On jumps, the same attitude shows up as smooth, fully held grabs and spin directions that avoid the obvious choice. Switch takeoffs, off-axis rotations and late tweaks are common in his clips, but they rarely feel forced. Instead, he rides with a medium-high speed and lets the trick unfold slowly in the air, often holding a grab from the lip almost all the way to the landing. That timing, combined with soft, controlled landings, is a big part of why fellow skiers talk about his “feel” for snow as much as his trick list.

Street and backcountry shots reveal another dimension: Kangas is comfortable adapting his park skill set to handrails, wallrides and natural trannies. In these settings he often adds small but memorable details—ollies into kinks, nose-butter entries onto natural rolls, or little drifted pivots on the way out of a pillow line—that reward slow-motion rewatching as much as first impressions.

Resilience, filming, and influence

Choosing to step away from the structured life of the Finnish national team after years of investment took both courage and clarity. Kangas has described the 2012–2019 national-team period, which included Junior Worlds gold and an Olympic start, as a crucial education—but he also wanted more creative control over his skiing. Since that transition he has built a career around projects that reflect his own taste: smaller crews, longer stays in one zone, and an emphasis on filming rather than chasing ranking points.

“Land of the Darker Sun,” released in 2021, is one of the cleanest windows into this phase. Shot in Finnish Lapland, the Swiss Alps and Riksgränsen in Sweden, the short film strings together street, backcountry and resort features into a cohesive portrait of how he likes to ski when there is no start gate involved. Later appearances in Keesh full movies and in K2 team projects like “Rikka,” filmed in Tokyo and Hokkaido, pushed his profile beyond the core freeski audience and underlined his value as a film skier capable of holding down full segments, not just one-off shots.

That filming focus has also made him influential as a stylist. Younger Finnish riders and international park skiers study his Keesh and K2 segments not only for the tricks, but for choices of speed, body position, and how he uses terrain that other people might ignore. In an era when many contest runs look similar, Kangas has become an example of how to keep freeskiing’s improvisational, playful roots alive even at a very high technical level.

Geography that built the toolkit

Kangas’ skiing is inseparable from the places that shaped him. Early days at Himos and other central Finnish resorts introduced him to park skiing on compact, efficient hills where creativity matters more than vertical drop. A family move north brought him to Levi Ski Resort, inside the Arctic Circle, where he still calls home. Long winters, floodlit slopes and the repetition of lapping the same lines night after night helped him develop the consistency you see in his competition runs and film segments.

From there his circle of “home” hills expanded: Finnish resorts like Sappee hosted national-level slopestyle events he won in his youth, while European venues such as Font Romeu, Seiser Alm and Silvaplana became regular stops during his World Cup years. Backcountry trips to Lapland and heli or touring days in the high Alps introduced him to bigger terrain, which now features heavily in his film parts. More recently, projects like “Rikka” have taken him to the deep snow and compact lift-served zones of Hokkaido as well as urban backdrops in Tokyo, further rounding out the environments where his skiing feels at home.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

For viewers who also ski, Kangas’ choice of equipment offers useful cues. As a long-time athlete for K2 Skis, he rides playful, freestyle-oriented skis with enough width to feel comfortable both in parks and in softer snow. Paired with bindings from Marker, his setups are built to handle heavy rail impacts, side hits, and bigger step-down jumps. Soft but supportive boots and a progressive mounting point help explain why his switch landings and butters look so natural even on variable landings.

Outerwear and streetwear from Capeesh Supply reflects the same aesthetic as his skiing: relaxed, functional, and clearly rooted in skate and street culture. While individual gear choices will depend on a skier’s local conditions, riders looking to emulate Kangas’ feel should pay attention to how his setup supports both rail precision and all-mountain versatility. The balance he strikes—park-capable but still reliable for backcountry jumps and natural features—shows in how confidently he moves between urban spots, resort laps and powder.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

For casual viewers, Joona Kangas is simply enjoyable to watch: his tricks are big without looking anxious, his landings are soft, and his lines often include surprising details that make you rewind the clip. For core fans and up-and-coming skiers, he represents a path that values style, creativity and long-term love of the sport as much as podiums. He has proven that you can win world titles as a junior, make an Olympic team, and then deliberately shift focus toward filming, small-crew projects and building a sustainable life around skiing.

If you are a skier trying to progress in slopestyle, big air or urban skiing, Kangas is a particularly good study subject. Watch how he chooses tricks that he can land consistently rather than chasing the biggest possible rotation every time, how he keeps his shoulders calm over rails, and how often he uses speed and line choice—not just spin count—to stand out. Whether he is lapping Levi in midwinter darkness, exploring the high alpine, or drifting through Hokkaido powder with the K2 team, Joona Kangas continues to show that the most memorable freeskiing blends technical difficulty with personality and a clear sense of fun.

Profile and significance

Olivia Asselin is a Canadian freeski standout from Québec who blends film-ready style with contest composure. Born in 2004 and raised in the Québec City/Lévis corridor, she rose through Stoneham’s club scene to the national team and broke out internationally with a bronze medal in Women’s Ski Big Air at the X Games in 2022. She followed that with Women’s Ski Knuckle Huck gold in 2024 and, in 2025, a defining weekend at Aspen that delivered Women’s Ski Street Style gold and Slopestyle silver. At the Olympics in 2022, Asselin made both finals, finishing eighth in Big Air and 11th in Slopestyle, underscoring her ability to translate style into major-stage results. World Cup podiums—third in Big Air at Copper Mountain in December 2022 and third in Slopestyle at Tignes in March 2024—round out a résumé that now straddles culture and medals. With partners including Armada, Monster Energy, and Smith Optics, she has become a reference point for skiers who prize clean mechanics and fresh ideas as much as difficulty.

Competitive arc and key venues

Asselin’s arc reveals a rider equally at home in rider-judged street formats and structured courses. The 2022 X Games bronze announced her to a global audience. In January 2024 she won the first Women’s Ski Knuckle Huck, an event that rewards creativity, timing and touch more than raw amplitude. In January 2025 she captured Women’s Street Style gold and Slopestyle silver at Aspen Snowmass, proving she can win on rails under floodlights and then podium on a full slopestyle course the next day. Along the way she stacked results that show breadth: a World Cup Big Air podium at Copper Mountain, a World Cup Slopestyle podium at Tignes, and wins in rider-led formats like Spring Battle at Absolut Park and a street title on the city setup in Innsbruck. Those venues map her progression cleanly. Stoneham taught night-lap repetition; Mammoth Mountain and Aspen demanded XL spacing, wind calls and pressure management; European parks like Tignes and Absolut Park honed rail density and long-line rhythm.

How they ski: what to watch for

Asselin’s skiing reads calm and deliberate. Into the lip she stays tall and neutral, then sets rotation late and locks grabs early so the trick breathes. On jumps, watch how she spins both directions in a run without rushing the set; grabs are defined before 180 degrees and held through the axis, which keeps the body stacked and the landing quiet. On rails, the signature is composure: locked presses and backslides that hold just long enough to be obvious, surface swaps with minimal arm swing, exits with square shoulders to maintain speed. In Street Style and urban-style jams, that economy becomes advantage—she uses the whole setup, hitting transfer options and disaster takeoffs without sacrificing flow. The big-picture tell is “replayability”: slow any clip down and you’ll find the same checkpoints—tall approach, patient pop, early grab, soft ankles on impact.

Resilience, filming, and influence

Asselin’s emergence coincided with a moment when women’s freeskiing expanded its event palette. By podiuming in Big Air, winning the debut of Knuckle Huck for women, and then claiming Street Style gold, she helped define what modern versatility looks like. Film-heavy weeks at events such as Spring Battle sharpened that voice further; the video-based format rewards riders who can craft coherent, stylish lines on their own terms. Her consistency in rider-curated street contests in Innsbruck added another layer of credibility in urban-influenced settings. The through-line is a repeatable movement language—clear setups, decisive presses, and measured takeoffs—that has become a study guide for developing riders. When she steps into televised slopestyle, the same habits make finals runs look composed rather than improvised.

Geography that built the toolkit

Place matters in Asselin’s skiing. The night network and compact laps at Stoneham built edge precision, rail timing and switch comfort; you can see those roots in how confidently she links rail features. Training blocks at Mammoth Mountain added jump cadence, wind reads and the patience needed for longer decks and higher speeds. World Cup stops at Copper Mountain and Tignes layered in contest rhythm and the ability to reset after misses. Europe’s Absolut Park and the urban scaffolds in Innsbruck reinforced her line-reading in feature-dense environments where creativity and efficiency trump brute force. Finally, Aspen Snowmass is the proving ground that now defines her public profile, a place where she has shown she can win under lights one night and deliver medals on a full course the next day.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Asselin’s choices reflect priorities that progressing skiers can copy. With Armada she rides playful, press-friendly park platforms that still feel predictable on big takeoffs; with Smith Optics she focuses on contrast and lens clarity for flat-light park laps; with Monster Energy she aligns with a team deeply embedded in the X Games ecosystem. The practical setup lessons are simple: detune contact points enough to reduce rail bite without giving up edge hold on the lip; choose a mount point close to center so switch landings stay neutral; and keep binding ramp angles that don’t force you into the backseat. Process matters as much as hardware. Build a “knuckle huck toolkit” on smaller hits—hand drags, flat 5s, late shiftys—then scale those touch-based moves into slopestyle where they add style without costing speed.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Fans care because Asselin is exciting in multiple languages of freeskiing: she can stack a stylish street run under floodlights, thread a long slopestyle line with both-way spins, or float a knuckle trick that looks effortless. For developing riders, her clips are a masterclass in patience and definition. She shows that high-level skiing does not require constant risk escalation; it requires clear plans for each feature, early grab definition, and exits that preserve speed for what comes next. The results—X Games golds in Knuckle Huck and Street Style, X Games silver in Slopestyle, X Games bronze in Big Air, finals at the Olympics, and multiple World Cup podiums—are milestones, but the real takeaway is how she earned them: by pairing creativity with fundamentals that hold up to slow-motion scrutiny.

Profile and significance

Tormod Frostad is a Norwegian freeski athlete born on August 29, 2002, who competes primarily in the big air discipline. He began skiing as a child near Oslo and developed his park and jump skills at his local slope in Sandvika before rising through the international freeski circuit. He represented Norway at the 2022 Winter Olympic Games in the men’s big air event, which marked his entrance into the top tier of the sport. His importance lies in the fact that he belongs to the up-and-coming generation of big air specialists in Norway, already achieving podiums in World Cup events and earning his first victory during the 2024-25 season. :contentReference[oaicite:0]{index=0}

Competitive arc and key venues

Frostad entered FIS competitions in his mid-teens and made his World Cup debut in 2018 with big air in Cardrona. :contentReference[oaicite:1]{index=1} Over the ensuing seasons he achieved multiple World Cup podiums and recorded his first victory in the 2024-25 season. :contentReference[oaicite:2]{index=2} He placed 12th in the big air event at the Beijing 2022 Olympic Winter Games. :contentReference[oaicite:3]{index=3} Prominent venues in his career include Cardrona (NZ), Beijing (China), and World Cup stops in Europe and North America. In the 2024-25 season he ranked 5th overall in the Park & Pipe World Cup standings with 330 points and a win among his tally of three podiums. :contentReference[oaicite:4]{index=4}

How they ski: what to watch for

Frostad brings a blend of amplitude and clean execution typical of modern big air freeskiers. He uses tall take-ins with late rotation initiation, which allows his grabs to read longer and his landings to settle more smoothly. On jumps he demonstrates switch and natural direction competence and holds grabs long enough that the trick silhouette becomes distinctive. For viewers, keep an eye on how he sets up the lip with edge control, then compresses rotation in the latter half of the air, reserving the earlier phase for grab posture. His run structure often features a build-up through one large trick rather than multiple trivial hits, aligning with the scoring emphasis on amplitude plus quality execution.

Resilience, filming, and influence

While Frostad is still early in his elite career, his rise from junior ranks to World Cup winner in a relatively short time shows resilience. He adapted through the pandemic-paused seasons, managed transition into senior competition and elevated his results accordingly. His Norwegian context, part of a strong freeski national system, gives him access to robust coaching and facilities. Though his filmed parts are less widely publicised compared to some peers, his contest results and growth trajectory have begun to capture attention, making him a figure for younger skiers to watch as someone evolving rapidly.

Geography that built the toolkit

Frostad grew up in Sandvika near Oslo, Norway, training at local slopes and snowparks which hone repetition and feature familiarity early. He then expanded into international training and contest venues, exposing him to glaciers, wind-affected jump lines and large-scale scaffolding. The Norwegian freeski environment emphasizes technical fundamentals and strong work ethic, which underpin his ability to manage speed, lip timing and axis control in high-stakes competitions. The transition from smaller domestic parks to global big air stages gave him a widening toolkit of feature types and judging contexts.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

According to his athlete profile, Frostad is associated with the brand Faction Skis which indicates his ski choice emphasises park/big-air performance with reliable pop and edge control. :contentReference[oaicite:5]{index=5} For progressing skiers the takeaways are clear: when targeting big air, choose skis with strong pop, mount near centre for switch competency, and train on consistent jump lines that allow repetition of lip timing, grab integration and landing stability. Frostad’s progression underscores the value of moving from local repetition to high-stakes venues and maintaining execution quality under pressure.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Fans should care about Tormod Frostad because he is a rapidly rising young big-air athlete whose peak appears still ahead. His early win and multiple podiums in the 2024-25 season position him among the names likely to contend for major titles in coming years. For skiers in progression, he demonstrates that rapid ascent is possible with strong fundamentals, smart progression and exposure to international venues. Watching a Frostad run offers insight into how modern big air scoring values amplitude, clean axis control and grab quality—not just raw rotation count. He is a name worth tracking as freeski enters its next championship cycle.

Profile and significance

Øystein Bråten is a Norwegian freeski slopestyle specialist whose career sits at the intersection of contest consistency and street-leaning creativity. Born in 1995 and connected with Torpo IL in Norway’s Hallingdal region, he rose through the era when slopestyle went from “new school” to global prime time. The signature line on his résumé is historic: he won Olympic men’s ski slopestyle gold at PyeongChang 2018, and FIS noted that the title made him the third Norwegian—after Kari Traa and Stine Hattestad in moguls—to win Olympic gold in freestyle skiing. That achievement matters beyond a single day because slopestyle is a sport of tiny margins, changing courses, and relentless trick progression; being the athlete who delivered the winning run when it mattered most is a legacy-making result.

Bråten’s significance also comes from how he earned that peak moment. His competitive record shows long-term presence on the World Cup circuit with podiums before the Olympics and a breakthrough World Cup win in 2017. At the same time, his public identity has always included the “build it, session it, film it” side of freeski. Through projects with Red Bull and technical rail concepts like his “Flip 2 Flip” feature, he became a reference point for skiers who value control and precision on rails as much as spins on jumps. In an era where slopestyle can drift toward pure rotation math, Bråten is remembered as an athlete who could win with both difficulty and a distinctly Scandinavian sense of cleanliness.

Competitive arc and key venues

The clearest way to understand Bråten’s arc is to track his climb through the highest-pressure venues in freeski. He appeared at the Sochi 2014 Winter Games and finished 10th in men’s slopestyle, a strong result in the early Olympic era when the discipline was still defining what “finals-level” looked like. Over the next four years he matured into one of the circuit’s most reliable scorers, stacking podiums and building a reputation as an athlete who could deliver a complete run when weather, speed, and course design made outcomes unpredictable.

On the World Cup calendar, his milestone victory came at Stubai Glacier on November 26, 2017, where he earned his first World Cup win in men’s slopestyle. That win is important context for his Olympic story: it shows he didn’t arrive at PyeongChang as a one-off underdog, but as a rider already capable of winning a top-tier event. The seasons around that period also include major results at classic slopestyle proving grounds such as Cardrona Alpine Resort in New Zealand and Silvaplana in Switzerland, plus big-air World Cup podium-level form that underlined his versatility beyond a single format.

X Games results add another layer because they measure performance under a different kind of spotlight. Bråten won men’s ski slopestyle gold at X Games Aspen 2017 and backed it up with another slopestyle gold at X Games Norway 2017 in Hafjell, plus a slopestyle bronze at X Games Aspen 2016. He also won the urban-style invitational Red Bull PlayStreets in Bad Gastein, a contest that flips the slopestyle idea into a street setting and rewards rail mastery as much as jump control. Taken together, those wins show why he was viewed as an “all-conditions” competitor: he could handle federation courses, invitational showpieces, and city-style builds without losing his identity.

PyeongChang 2018 became the career-defining venue. In the Olympic final, Bråten scored 95.00 on his first run, then had to wait through the remaining attempts as rivals chased him. That detail is essential to the narrative: slopestyle isn’t only about doing your run, it’s about doing it early enough and clean enough that the rest of the field cannot catch you. When the contest ended, he stood atop the podium as Olympic champion, with Nick Goepper second and Alex Beaulieu-Marchand third. That moment turned a strong World Cup and X Games athlete into a lasting name in Olympic freeski history.

How they ski: what to watch for

Bråten’s skiing is easiest to recognize in the way he treats rails. He has long been framed as a technician—an athlete who approaches rail features with the precision of a street skier while still maintaining the speed and composure needed for full slopestyle courses. For viewers, the most revealing moments are often at the top of a run: watch how early he sets his line into a rail, how stable his upper body stays through a slide, and how smoothly he reconnects with the fall line after the dismount. In slopestyle, that “exit quality” is where clean runs are built; a shaky rail exit forces defensive skiing into the next hit, and defensive skiing kills amplitude and style on jumps.

His jump skiing tends to mirror the same mindset: controlled takeoffs, deliberate grabs, and an emphasis on landing position so speed carries forward. When he is on form, the run looks planned rather than patched together. That matters because modern slopestyle judging is effectively an evaluation of completeness: difficulty matters, but so does whether every piece of the run communicates control. Bråten’s best contests have been the ones where he blends technical rail sections with confident spins, keeping the run readable from start to finish instead of relying on a single chaotic banger.

The “Flip 2 Flip” concept captured why his style resonates. Presented through Red Bull content, it centered on a flip-on to flip-off rail feature—an example of how he pushes progression by rethinking what a rail trick can be. Even if a viewer doesn’t know every naming convention, the takeaway is clear: Bråten’s creativity often lives in feature use and approach angles, not only in adding another 180 degrees of rotation. If you want to evaluate his skiing the way other freeskiers do, prioritize those details: line choice, feature interpretation, and how “quiet” the run looks even when it’s technically hard.

Resilience, filming, and influence

Bråten’s Olympic gold is a resilience story in the specific way slopestyle tests athletes. In the PyeongChang final, he delivered the best run of his life immediately, then had to sit with the result while the rest of the field took multiple shots at beating it. That waiting game is psychologically brutal: you can’t improve your score, you can only watch others try. Winning in that scenario is not just talent; it’s the ability to trust your preparation and stay composed when momentum shifts around you.

Beyond competition, his influence shows up in how he helped keep rail creativity visible in an increasingly jump-heavy era. Through Red Bull projects and the travel-and-session format of the “Send It!” series, he became a recognizable figure for skiers who care about filming, urban or street-inspired trick ideas, and building features rather than only training on standardized contest courses. That matters culturally because freeski has always been a two-lane sport: structured events on one side, creative expression on the other. Bråten’s career shows those lanes can feed each other. Contest training can create the consistency needed for filming, while street-style thinking can make contest runs feel less generic.

His continued relevance is also tied to the “backyard” mindset that many progressing skiers relate to. Red Bull’s “Backyard Bangers” concept highlights how building and riding small features repeatedly can translate into elite-level control. For fans, that’s a reminder that the most impressive contest runs often come from unglamorous work: thousands of attempts, endless rail laps, and the patience to refine small details until they look effortless.

Geography that built the toolkit

Bråten’s story is rooted in rural Norway, not a giant resort town. His association with Torpo IL and residence in the Ål area place him in a region where winter is long and training has to be self-directed. That geography has a quiet influence on style. Scandinavian freeski culture has traditionally valued clean execution, a calm posture, and a strong rail tradition—skills that travel well because they are not dependent on a single type of park. When you grow up needing to make the most of whatever features exist, you learn to be inventive and precise.

From there, the international circuit added new layers. Courses at Stubai Glacier are often fast and firm, rewarding a skier who can be accurate on takeoff and landing even when the snow is not forgiving. Silvaplana brings a different rhythm, with European builds that can emphasize rail complexity and creative line options. Southern Hemisphere stops like Cardrona Alpine Resort matter because they set early-season trends; the skiers who are ready to perform there often carry confidence into the Northern winter.

North American contest hubs also shaped his toolkit. Parks at resorts like Aspen Snowmass, Breckenridge, Copper Mountain, and Mammoth Mountain are designed for repetition and high-speed runs, which rewards the kind of disciplined execution that becomes essential at the Olympics. When you zoom out, the PyeongChang win links all of those geographies into a single narrative: a Norwegian rail technician who could travel the world, adapt to any course, and still put down the run that defined an Olympic final.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Bråten’s public partnerships are most clearly visible through his long-standing presence in Red Bull freeski content, including technical rail features and series-style projects. In terms of what that implies for equipment, the key is not chasing a specific pro model, but understanding the demands of his disciplines. Slopestyle and big air require a twin-tip setup that feels symmetrical for switch takeoffs and landings, with edges and bases durable enough for heavy rail use. A skier who wants to bring street-inspired ideas into a contest run also needs a predictable platform: inconsistent flex or an unfamiliar mount can make spins feel different in each direction, which is a recipe for sketchy landings and rushed grabs.

For progressing skiers, the most practical takeaway from his style is that “equipment” starts with feel and repetition. A boot that fits securely allows you to stay centered over the skis when landing switch. Bindings mounted to support balance in both directions make it easier to keep spins clean and grabs deliberate. And a ski that holds up to repeated rail hits encourages more attempts, which is where technical confidence actually comes from. Bråten’s career highlights that a clean run is rarely the product of a magic setup; it’s the product of a setup you trust enough to focus on execution rather than survival.

Partners matter in another way: they often fund time on snow and creative freedom. If you look at the arc of Bråten’s work, it’s clear that contest seasons and filming concepts both require travel, planning, and the ability to chase the right conditions. For a developing skier, the lesson is straightforward: prioritize the systems that let you ski more—consistent coaching, safe progression steps, and access to features—because those systems compound faster than any single gear upgrade.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Øystein Bråten matters because he is the kind of freeski athlete who proves slopestyle is more than spin count. He won Olympic gold at PyeongChang 2018 by putting down an early, dominant run and holding off a finals field that kept raising the stakes. He also built a contest résumé that includes a World Cup victory at Stubai Glacier, multiple World Cup podiums, and slopestyle gold medals at X Games events in both the United States and Norway. Those results check the “champion” box in every major contest ecosystem—World Cups, invitationals, and the Olympics.

Progressing skiers care because his skiing is instructive. It shows how rail precision can be a weapon in competition, not just a style accessory. It shows that a run is judged as a whole, and that speed management between features is often the hidden difference between a podium and the middle of the pack. And it shows that creative projects—building features, filming technical concepts, and refining tricks outside formal courses—can feed directly into contest readiness. Whether you’re watching him for Olympic history or for the craft of clean slopestyle, Bråten remains a reference point for how modern freeski can be both disciplined and inventive.