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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

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

Kai Martin is an Australian freeski athlete focused on slopestyle and big air, officially listed as an active competitor by FIS (born February 26, 2003). In a sport where many athletes are defined by one breakout final or one viral clip, Martin’s relevance comes from a more complete picture: he has wins at the continental-cup level, repeat appearances on the World Cup tour, and a parallel identity as a filmer/editor within freestyle ski culture. That combination—competitive starts plus creative production—fits the modern freeski reality, where progression often happens as much through projects and crews as it does through start lists.

He’s also a useful case study in how “pathway skiing” works for athletes from smaller snow-sport nations. His results span the OWIA and Snow Australia ecosystem and the North American development circuit, including multiple Nor-Am starts and wins in Canada and the U.S. The throughline is clear: he has spent years building a competition base, then used that same winter mileage to contribute to filmed projects that sit closer to freeski’s creative roots.

Competitive arc and key venues

Martin’s competitive story has a strong Southern Hemisphere anchor. On the Australia New Zealand Cup calendar, he won men’s freeski slopestyle at The Remarkables in August 2023 and repeated with another ANC slopestyle win there in August 2024. Those results matter because ANC events are not just local contests—they often function as high-pressure early-season proving grounds, with international fields and judging standards that resemble bigger tours.

His step into the World Cup conversation is also well documented. He made his FIS World Cup debut in big air at Chur in October 2023, then added more World Cup starts across classic park-and-pipe venues: slopestyle at Stubai Glacier (November 2023), big air in Beijing (December 2023), and big air at Copper Mountain (December 2023). His best World Cup result so far is a 23rd place in slopestyle at Tignes in March 2024, which also marks the moment he began scoring World Cup points.

Another noteworthy marker is his return from injury at LAAX in January 2025, where Australian program reporting described it as his first World Cup of the season and he finished 33rd in men’s slopestyle. That detail is important because it frames him as an athlete rebuilding continuity—an everyday reality in park skiing, where injury interruptions can derail both confidence and contest rhythm.

Below the World Cup tier, Martin’s Nor-Am résumé is a real strength. He won Nor-Am big air at Stoneham (Québec) in March 2022 and again in March 2023, and he added a Nor-Am slopestyle podium at Stoneham in 2023 as well. He also posted strong Nor-Am results at WinSport in Calgary and at Aspen-area events, which signals a competitor who can travel, adapt to different course builds, and still land in the points.

How they ski: what to watch for

Martin’s competitive record suggests a skier who is most comfortable when slopestyle and big air reward full-package skiing: stable rails, speed management, and landings that preserve momentum. If you’re watching him with an evaluator’s eye, focus on the “between” moments that separate a clean contest run from a highlight-reel run. How quiet is the upper body on rail entries? Does he exit features already set up for the next hit, or does he need a visible correction? Those details often decide whether a run survives judged formats at World Cup speed.

In big air, the most revealing trait is composure under a simplified format. Big air strips the sport down to approach, takeoff precision, and the ability to repeat under pressure. Martin’s long run of appearances—from Chur to Beijing to Copper Mountain—points to an athlete steadily collecting reps in exactly that environment. Even without a World Cup podium yet, this kind of repetition is how athletes convert “can do it” into “can do it in finals.”

His background also includes halfpipe starts earlier in his career, and that matters even if his current focus is slopestyle and big air. Pipe experience tends to sharpen air awareness and landing discipline, which can show up as better timing on larger slopestyle jumps. When a skier looks calm in the air and efficient on takeoff, it’s often because they’ve trained in formats that punish hesitation.

Resilience, filming, and influence

The most compelling part of Martin’s story is how he’s positioned himself as both a competitor and a creator. In late 2025 he was credited as a co-creator behind the film project “Nexus” with halfpipe skier Aaron Durlester, a project framed as exploring skiing beyond pure contest objectives and blending multiple influences into one vision. Whether a viewer follows contest points or not, that kind of credit matters in freeski: it signals that peers trust his eye, his work ethic, and his taste—qualities that often translate to stronger skiing as well.

That creative role also adds context to his competition arc. The same skills that make a skier valuable in filming—patience, repetition, and the ability to refine small details until they look effortless—are exactly what slopestyle judging calls “execution.” Martin’s career suggests he’s building that execution on two fronts: contest reps at World Cup and Nor-Am events, and project work that pushes him to keep skiing interesting when the goal isn’t a score.

Resilience shows up in the injury timeline too. Returning to World Cup competition at LAAX after time away is not only about physical recovery; it’s about re-learning contest pacing and trusting speed on features that feel bigger when you’ve missed time. Athletes who can step back into that environment and continue stacking seasons are often the ones who eventually unlock a breakthrough result.

Geography that built the toolkit

Martin’s geography reads like a modern freestyle training map rather than a single hometown pipeline. His ANC wins at The Remarkables and starts at Cardrona tie him to New Zealand’s highly influential winter scene, where athletes often sharpen early-season trick choices and contest readiness. Those venues are valuable because they reward clean skiing on courses that can feel fast, compact, and demanding.

His North American development results—especially Nor-Am wins at Stoneham and performances at WinSport—suggest a high-volume training approach, where repetition is the currency. Add in World Cup exposure at Copper Mountain and Mammoth Mountain, and you have the U.S. side of the equation: bigger jumps, long landings, and event-week pressure.

Europe completes the toolkit. Competing at Stubai Glacier, LAAX, and Silvaplana places him in venues where rail sections and course flow can be decisive, and where style and control are tested on different snow textures and light conditions than North America. If you want to understand his skiing evolution, that travel pattern is the story: build confidence in one hemisphere, validate it in another, then keep iterating.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Martin’s FIS athlete page does not publish a confirmed, up-to-date equipment setup, and his public results listings do not reliably document brand sponsors. What is clearly verifiable is his connection to Australia’s high-performance pathway through OWIA coverage and the national federation structure of Snow Australia. In practical terms, that kind of support is often more important than any single logo: it helps an athlete access coaching, travel, and the competition schedule that creates real progression.

For progressing skiers, the equipment takeaway is best framed through the demands of his disciplines rather than his specific gear. Slopestyle and big air reward a predictable, switch-friendly platform that stays consistent across different snow conditions and different course designs. The athletes who rise through Nor-Am and into World Cups are usually the ones who remove equipment uncertainty: boots that fit perfectly, skis that feel familiar on every takeoff, and maintenance habits that keep speed predictable on jump lines and stable on rails.

There’s also a subtle “creator” takeaway in his film work. Skiers who film and edit tend to care intensely about how skiing looks: takeoff shape, grab timing, landing posture, and whether the trick reads clean on camera. If you want to ski like someone who both competes and creates, treat style as something you train, not something you hope happens. The goal is repeatability—because repeatability is what becomes both a contest run and a film clip.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Kai Martin matters because he represents a modern freeski archetype that’s increasingly common and increasingly important: the athlete who builds legitimacy through results while also contributing to the culture through filming and creative projects. His record includes repeat victories at The Remarkables, Nor-Am wins at Stoneham, and a World Cup pathway that began at Chur and has included stops across Europe, North America, and China. That’s not a single breakout—it’s a sustained attempt to climb the sport the hard way.

For fans, he’s interesting because the ceiling is still open. A 23rd at Tignes is the kind of result that often precedes bigger finals as experience compounds. For progressing skiers, the lesson is even clearer: the path is built on reps—continental-cup wins, travel, course adaptation, and the ability to return from setbacks and keep going. If you want a skier to watch who is still building toward the next tier while already leaving a footprint in both contests and projects, Martin is a strong name to follow.

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.