thelastchair

[thelastchair]

Open Road

(Written by Sam Cox - February 23, 2024)

Like many, I've logged some miles in the Arlberg and Tirol over the years, but only dabbled into the expanses of Austria beyond their confines. February was a prime opportunity for two dudes well into their 40's, armed with a rental car and older generation iPhone's to venture further east and have a look around. The essence of the region is easier to sum up in photos, rather than words. Cheers.

Completely unrelated - winter 2024 in Montana has been a roller coaster of emotions. But, there have been some brief windows of superb meadow skipping:

#lastchair #skiing #powder #fullwingspan #austria #italy #dolomiti #ronfunk #backcountry #europe #snow

[thelastchair]

Shadows Fade

(Written by The Crew - January 22, 2024)

Our good friend Quinn Wolferman is an X Games gold medalist, Armada athlete and Montana native. His recent solo film project, Shadows Fade dropped today.

#quinnwolferman #armadaskis #xgames #ski #powder #backcountry #shadowsfade #skiing #Youtube

[thelastchair]

Junkshow Media House - Season 11

(Written by The Crew - December 19, 2023)

Junkshow Media House is back with their 11th season. The first installment of the year features Josh Daiek and Stan Rey, crushing the Tahoe backyard during the depths of a storm. Enjoy.

In the spirit of keeping shit simple, we batched the episodes into one post - Episode 2, Ring The Bell is full of spines, lines and some fucking good times.

#junkshowmediahouse #tahoe #stanrey #joshdaiek #skiing #powder #backcountry #ronfunk #snow

[thelastchair]

Season 10

(Written by Junkshow Media House - April 24, 2023)

Being timely is more or less our middle name. Fuck it, digging out from a massive winter put us a little behind the curve, just where we like to be. 

Three episodes comprise Season 10. Enjoy.

#skiing #powder #backcountry #junkshowmediahouse #tahoe #ronfunk

[thelastchair]

Casual

(Written by Sam Cox - March 20, 2023)

Today is officially the first day of spring and I already miss winter. Snow has become a rare commodity in the valley, but is still holding strong in the high country. Here is a glimpse into a few moments this year, when the days were shorter and temps colder.

Thanks to everyone along the way for the turns, breaking trail and occasional pre-dawn departure. 

Do you like hippy pow and burning hot laps on the skin track? Damn right you do. You can thank me later for the musical selection:

#skiing #powder #backcountry #lastchair #ronfunk

[thelastchair]

Attitude of Gratitude

(Written by Michael Bird Shaffer - October 16, 2022)

It’s been a blink of the eye and one special trip. I’m honored and deeply grateful to share this bird documentary with all of you, my friends. 

Thanks to black crows skis, my family and our mountain community.  Time and again, you’ve lifted me up with love, shred and acceptance. And, a special kaw out to my guy, Camille Jaccoux Cam, you remember back in 2003, when you said we were gonnna make something?  Guess what?  I believed you! 

P.S. we couldn’t have done this without the amazing creative and patient work from the man who edited this piece - Julien Bevillard  Please enjoy the jOURney.  fullwingspan 

(For your additional viewing pleasure - From Fledgling to Full Wingspan)

#blackcrowsskis #birdwhere #fullwingspan #chamonix #attitudeofgratitude #birdearly #pitviper #skiing #backcountry #powder #lastchair

[thelastchair]

Tirol

(Written by Sam Cox - February 22, 2022)

It had been a while since I left the country with a pair of skis. Nervous anticipation, last minute packing. Obsessing over weather forecasts, snow reports and avalanche conditions. 

Once en route, a couple hours of transit and a libation deep, everything settled into place. I had embarked on a ritualistic journey as old as the idea of sliding down a mountain - the ski trip. 

Central Austria is a gem. From the family atmosphere at Kühtai to the shiny infrastructure of St. Anton. The Olympic history of Axamer Lizum and the audacity of constructing a ski area at the head of the Kaunertal Valley. 

Stability was fickle. The off-piste had to be approached with respect. Alternating storm cycles and sunny days were the norm. Quality turns were plentiful. 

I could spend all winter skiing in the Alps, but the realities of finances and obligations at home eventually set in. That’s alright, I’m content being even a temporal guest from time to time. 

Perhaps it’s the scarcity of the visits that make these experiences so special. Until we meet again old friend, thanks for everything.  

  If you’ve made it this far - completely unrelated, 45 seconds of pow session on the neighborhood skin track this winter:

#skiing #backcountry #powder #lastchair #fullwingspan #austria #pitztal #kaunertal #stanton #stubai #hintertux #kuhtai #axamerlizum #ronfunk

[thelastchair]

The Junkshow - Season 8

(Written by Junkshow Media House - April 10, 2021)

We wanted to get an article together back in the fall, but sled maintenance, skiing pow and drinking beer with our friends got in the way. Here is a retrospective look at last season’s series of episodes:

S8E1: Quaranteam 

With plans to sneak across the Canadian border, COVID-19 hit. We headed home and quaranteamed up.

S8E2: An American Tale

Willfully establishing residence in a snowmobile trailer during the winter is no small feat - hours of meticulous preparation only go so far to overcome the hurdles of frigid temperatures, wet gear and cramped quarters. The trade off, is total immersion into a lifestyle where simplicity and freedom reign supreme. Select your zone, park the rig, allow everything else to dissolve into background noise - let skiing and the experience become the focal point. This concept became our reality, enjoy.

S8E3: Light to the Dark

A 10 inch predicted storm became 20 inches and then it morphed into over 50 inches. Eventually it was too deep to ski, too deep to sled. Daylight turned to darkness, the rhythmic hum of the t-bar echoed in the distance - we'd found what we came for.

We spent this winter exploring - poking and prodding around nooks and crannies, sleeping in parking lots and getting acquainted with sunrise on the skyline. See you in the fall.

#skiing #powder #backcountry #junkshowmediahouse #lastchair #drinkbeerandskiwithyourfriends #ronfunk

[thelastchair]

The Pandemic

(Written by Sam Cox - March 25, 2021)

It was a year of unknowns and new experiences. Nobody has a playbook for skiing during a pandemic. A couple of winters ago I moved, I still live in the mountains but no longer in a ski town. During a normal season, this means I spend some time on the road. I feel at home in a state of transit - finding solidarity with a meandering ribbon of pavement as it stretches ever onward, away from darkness and toward light, possibilities and hopefully powder.  

However, this winter, my scope of reality was trained predominantly on the immediate local area. Borders remained closed, the snowpack was sketchy as fuck and it didn’t seem worth investing the time or energy to spread my wings and encounter the same setup elsewhere. 

The reservation system at Bridger Bowl is dysfunctional at best, it’s a constant source of frustration. Sadly, it’s the least of Bozeman’s concerns. It’s difficult to watch something you love being destroyed. Admittedly, I’m angry, conflicted and confused because Bridger has been such a significant component of my life for almost 40 years. Everything is perspective, but to me, the community I grew up in is unrecognizable and broken. To a Covid refugee from New England, an adult onset skier with a Sprinter van from the Midwest or someone from the Bay Area with unlimited disposable income/time, it looks like Utopia. The soul is being priced right out of the ski area and city. Soon, the only thing left will be trust funders and tech geeks, languishing as terminal intermediates despite having brand new everything. They’re hell bent on gentrification and single origin, shade grown, organic beef burgers at the ski area cafeteria. Fuck it, the joke is actually on them - Bridger struggles to get 250″ of snow on a massive winter these days, frequently less than 200″ falls during operating. Did I forget to mention the lift lines? People move to Bozeman in droves, all from a “hot tip” in Outside Magazine. It’s unsustainable growth by any metric. I’ll take solace that I was fortunate enough to start skiing there in the 1980′s, long before the masses heard a whispered “Montana” drifting seductively on the wind. Then again, it could always be worse. There are thousands people who suffer from such an acute case of Stockholm Syndrome that they scramble over each other to purchase a season pass at Montana Snowbowl.   

I don’t have the answers to the problems plaguing Bridger Bowl. All you can do is adapt, make the best of it and move on from from situations that bring you down. I’m an old dude with a broken back. I spend a lot of time solo, wandering around the woods getting weird and attempting to ski as much pow as possible. Meadow skipping, skin track sessions, sled laps or riding the lifts. Anytime I can indulge in these activities with friends, I’ll call it a victory.

A couple highlights from the winter of Covid - right turns, left turns and a quick season recap:

#skiing #powder #backcountry #lastchair #junkshowmediahouse #fullwingspan

[thelastchair]

Powder Magazine

(Written by Sam Cox - December 28, 2020)

Growing up in Montana, my winter free time was consumed by skiing. Big Sky was the destination when I was barely old enough to walk. Eventually we made the move to Bozeman and Bridger Bowl became my second home. During the early years, my family made the trek to a handful of Warren Miller movies when they were on tour in the fall and Snow Country was the magazine subscription that landed on the coffee table. I was vaguely aware of Jackson Hole, Snowbird and Squaw Valley and my father would occasionally regale me with tales of skiing (read Après) in Germany when he was in the Army. At some level, I already understood that there was something special about Bridger, but realistically, my sphere of outside influence was quite small. Christmas of 1989 turned my entire world upside down. My aunt and uncle are longtime Salt Lake City residents and Brighton skiers. Typically they would send a package each year with the customary cookies, toffee and a card. However, this year they sent two VHS tapes and a magazine - Ski Time, Blizzard of Aahhh’s and a copy of Powder. Things would never be the same for me. Scot Schmidt became my hero, Greg Stump was taking skiing into uncharted territory and above it all, Powder created an eloquent voice for our sport and was the fabric that held things together. Even at my young age, everything that I’d intuitively sensed before was distilled into a potent desire to devote myself to the simple pursuit of being a skier.

Johan Jonsson, Engelberg, Switzerland - Photo: Mattias Fredriksson/POWDER

Powder was founded in Sun Valley by the Moe brothers in 1972 as an annual portfolio of The Other Ski Experience. After several years of running the magazine, Jake and David Moe sold Powder to the owner of Surfer Magazine. A repurposed aircraft hangar in San Juan Capistrano became the new home of skiing’s most prestigious publication. Over time, there was an ebb and flow to the size of staff and cast of characters, each person leaving their unique mark. For decades Powder weathered corporate acquisitions, office relocations and the constant metamorphosis of the ski industry - never losing its voice, Powder remained the benchmark. It was a source of creativity, inspiration and a defacto annal of history. For many it was also a shining beacon, a glimpse into a world filled with deep turns and iconic destinations - even if this world could only be inhabited inside the constructs of your imagination.

My story and the impact Powder had on the direction I would take is hardly unique. The magazine left an indelible impression on countless skiers. When the news broke this fall that operations were being suspended indefinitely, a heartbroken community took to social media to pay homage to the magazine and how it changed their lives and in some cases, careers. This is my version of a tribute and it’s definitely not perfect. In order to gain some perspective, I reached out to former staff members - a collective I admire and respect. It’s an attempt to articulate the essence of Powder, capture its influence on the skiing landscape and give credit to the people who made it come to life. 

Bernie Rosow, Mammoth Mountain, CA - Photo: Christian Pondella/POWDER

HANS LUDWIG - The Jaded Local

“Skiing has always been really tribal and one of the last vestiges of having an oral history. Powder was a unique concept, because they weren’t really concerned with the family market. They were just concerned about being really into skiing. Growing up in Colorado and skiing moguls, my coaches Robert and Roger were featured in the early Greg Stump films. Being in their orbit, I knew a little bit about skiing culture and what was going on out there, but didn’t have the whole picture. The Stump films resonated with me, but Ski/Skiing Magazines didn’t really do it for me. Powder was the door that opened things culturally, it was the only entry point before Blizzard of Aahhh’s.”

“Something that nobody gives Powder credit for, is sponsoring the Greg Stump, TGR and MSP movies and giving them full support right from their inception. It legitimized those companies and helped them become one of the catalysts for change and evolution in skiing. Ultimately this change would have happened, but at a much slower pace without the support of Powder. Getting support from Powder meant they’d weeded out the posers and kooks and what they were backing wasn’t something or someone that was “aspiring” they were a cut above.”

“Powder brought a lot of things into the mainstream, raised awareness and helped to legitimize them: Jean-Marc Boivin, Patrick Vallencant, Pierre Tardivel, telemarking, monoskiing, snowboarding, the JHAF, Chamonix, La Grave, Mikaela Shiffrin, fat skis pre McConkey, skiing in South America….the list goes on.”

“I had some rowdy trips with Powder. Writing “Lost In America,” I went Utah-Montana-Fernie-Banff-Revelstoke via pickup truck, only backcountry skiing and camping in the mud. It was a month plus. I did another month plus in Nevada, which was after back to back Jackson and Silverton. Total time was two plus months. That was fucked up, I was super loose after that whole thing. So many sketchy days with total strangers”

“People forget that Powder was around long before the advent of the fucking pro skier. Starting in 1996, the magazine was in the impact zone of the ski industrial complex. There is limited space for content each season. It was a challenge to balance the pressure coming from the athletes and brands to cover something that was going to make them money vs. staying true to the Moe brothers original intent and profiling an eccentric skier, a unique location or even fucking ski racing.”

Full Circle - Photo: MJ Carroll

KEITH CARLSEN - Editor

“When I was young, Ski/Skiing didn’t do anything for my spirit, but Powder lit me up. It ignited a passion in diehard skiers and gave them a voice and community. It was focused on the counter culture - the type of people who rearrange their lives to ski. This was in direct opposition to other magazines that were targeting rich people, trying to explain technique, sell condos or highlight the amenities at a ski area.”

“Skiing has always been my outlet and mechanism to get away from things in life. My two talents are writing and photography, so I enrolled at Western State with the direct goal of landing an internship at Powder. Even at 19, I had complete focus on the direction I wanted to take. If it didn’t work out, my backup plan was to be a ski bum. 48 hours after graduating, I was headed to southern California to live in my van and start my position at Powder. When the decision was made to close the magazine, it was really personal for me. Powder had provided me direction in life for the last 30 years and I needed some time to process it. In a way, it was almost like going to a funeral for a good friend - even though it’s gone, the magazine lives on in all of us and can never be taken away.”

“It was, and will always remain, one of my life’s greatest honors to serve as the editor-in-chief for Powder Magazine. It was literally a dream that came true. I’m so grateful for everyone who came before me and everyone who served after me. That opportunity opened literally hundreds of doors for me and continues to do so today. I owe the magazine a massive debt of gratitude. Every single editor was a warrior and fought for the title with their lives. They were doing double duty - not only from competition with other publications, but the internal struggle of budget cuts, staff reductions and trying to do more with less. Powder never belonged in the hands of a corporation. The magazine spoke to an impassioned community and never made sense to an accountant or on a ledger.”

Trevor Petersen, Mt. Serratus, BC - Photo: Scott Markewitz/POWDER

SIERRA SHAFER - Editor In Chief

“Powder celebrated everything that is good and pure in skiing. It highlighted the old school, the new and the irreverent. The magazine also called bullshit when they saw it. It was a checkpoint, a cultural barometer and an honest reflection on where skiing has been and where it’s going.”

“My involvement with Powder came completely out of left field. I was never an intern or established in the ski industry. My background was strictly in journalism, I was a skier living in Southern California and editing a newspaper. I knew that I wanted to get the fuck out of LA and Powder was that opportunity. It was a huge shift going from my job and life being completely separate to work becoming my life. Literally overnight, Powder became everything - friends, connections and part of my identity. It derailed my trajectory in the best possible way.”

Brad Holmes, Donner Pass, CA - Photo: Dave Norehad/POWDER

MATT HANSEN - Executive Editor

“Keith Carlsen was a man of ideas, he had tremendous vision and influence. He came up with the ideas for Powder Week and the Powder Awards in 2001. In some respects those two events saved the magazine.”

“Powder was the soul of skiing and kept the vibe, it changed people’s lives and inspired them to move to a ski town. As a writer I always wanted to think it was the stories that did that, but in truth it was the photography. Images of skiing truly became an art form, 100% thanks to Powder Magazine and Dave Reddick. Dave cultivated and mentored photographers, he was always searching for the unpredictable image from around the world and pressed the photographers to look at things from a different angle.”

“It sounds cliche, but writing a feature about Chamonix was the highlight for me. Sitting on the plane, things were absolutely unreal. I linked up with Nate Wallace and the whole experience from start to finish was out of my comfort zone. Ducking ropes to ski overhead pow on the Pas De Chèvre, walking out of the ice tunnel on a deserted Aiguille du Midi right as the clouds parted, late nights in town that were too fuzzy to recall. The energy of the place taught me a lot. I didn’t have a smartphone and there was no Instagram - I had time to write, observe, take notes and be present with who I was and with the experience. As a writer it didn’t get any better.”

“The true gift of working for Powder, was the once in a lifetime adventures that I wish I could have shared with my family, I was so lucky to have had those opportunities. It almost brought tears to me eyes.”

Peter Romaine, Jackson Hole, WY - Photo: Wade McKoy/POWDER

DAVE REDDICK - Director of Photography

“Just ski down there and take a photo of something, for cryin’ out loud!”  “I’ve found that channeling McConkey has been keeping it in perspective. Powder’s been shuttered. That sucks. What doesn’t suck is the good times and the people that have shared the ride thus far and I’m just thankful to be one of them. There’s been some really kind sentiments from friends and colleagues, but this must be said - Every editor (especially the editors), every art director (I’ve driven them nuts), every publisher and sales associate, every photographer, writer, and intern, and all the others behind the scenes who’ve ever contributed their talents get equal share of acknowledgment for carrying the torch that is Powder Mag. There’s hundreds of us! No decision has ever been made in a vacuum. Always a collective. At our best, we’ve been a reflection of skiers everywhere and of one of the greatest experiences in the world. It’s that community, and that feeling, that is Powder. I’m not sure what’s next and I’m not afraid of change but”  “There’s something really cool about being scared. I don’t know what!”

Scot Schmidt, Alaska - Photo: Chris Noble/POWDER

DEREK TAYLOR - Editor 

“Powder was the first magazine dedicated to the experience and not trying to teach people how to ski. It was enthusiast media focused on the soul and culture. It’s also important to highlight the impact Powder had outside of skiing - today you have the Surfer’s Journal effect where every sport wants that type of publication. However, prior to their inception, everybody wanted a version of Powder.”

“Neil Stebbins and Steve Casimiro deserve a lot of credit for the magazine retaining its voice and staying true to the core group of skiers it represented.”

“Keith Carlsen is responsible for the idea behind Super Park. This was a time when skiing had just gone through a stale phase. There was a newfound energy in park skiing and younger generations, this event helped to rebrand Powder and solidify its goal of being all inclusive. Racing, powder, park, touring - it’s all just skiing.”

Joe Sagona, Mt. Baldy, CA - Photo: Dave Reddick/POWDER

JOHNNY STIFTER - Editor In Chief

“What did Powder mean to me... Well, everything. As a reader and staffer, it inspired me and made me laugh. I learned about local cultures that felt far away and learned about far away cultures that didn’t feel foreign, if that makes sense.”

“But I cherished those late nights the most, making magazines with the small staff. Despite the deadline stress, I always felt so grateful to be working for this sacred institution and writing and editing for true skiers. We all just had so much damn fun. And it didn’t hurt meeting such passionate locals at hallowed places, like Aspen and Austria, that I once dreamed of visiting and skiing. The Powder culture is so inclusive and so fun, I never felt more alive.”

Doug Coombs, All Hail The King - Photo: Ace Kvale/POWDER

HEATHER HANSMAN - Online Editor

“Powder is a lifestyle and an interconnected circle of people. It’s about getting a job offer at Alta, opening your home to random strangers, locking your keys in your car and getting rescued by a friend you made on a trip years ago. Through the selfish activity of skiing, you can create a community of people you cherish and can depend on through highs and lows.”

Ashley Otte, Mike Wiegele Heli, BC - Photo: Dave Reddick/POWDER

The contributions of so many talented individuals made the magazine possible. I would like to express my sincere gratitude to everyone who shared their experience at Powder with me. Also, I want to thank Porter Fox and David Page for crafting inspiring feature stories that I enjoyed immensely over the years.

After the reality set in that the final issue had arrived, a void was created for generations of skiers. I’ve been focused on being thankful for what we had, rather than sad it’s gone. It’s a challenging time for print media and I wholeheartedly advocate supporting the remaining titles in anyway you can. In a culture driven by a voracious appetite for mass media consumption and instant gratification - I cherish the ritual of waiting for a magazine to arrive, appreciating the effort that went into creating the content and being able to have that physical substance in my hand. Thanks for everything Powder, you are missed, but your spirit lives on.  

Captain Powder - Photo: Gary Bigham/POWDER

#skiing #powder #last chair #powder magazine #the other ski experience #the skiers magazine

[thelastchair]

A Work In Progress

(Written by Sam Cox - March 25, 2020)

I strive to spend as much time as I can walking amongst individuals and landscapes that I harmonize with - they shine additional light into my world. Skiing provides an opportunity for clarity and perspective, but every ski season contains interruptions and unforeseen events. It’s all just a work in progress, the actual reward is the sum of the experiences along the journey. As the fabric that holds society together is being stretched thin by a pandemic and the tremendous ramifications associated with it, we’re all in this together. I reflected on some moments from earlier this winter that bring a smile to my face. I hope you enjoy them too.       

#lastchair #skiing #powder #timetoplay #junkshowmediahouse #fullwingspan #backcountry #skidoo #drinkbeerandskiwithyourfriends #pitviper

[thelastchair]

Blank

(Written by Ezra Butterfield - January 10, 2020)

Without doing any hard, scientific math or comprehensive data analysis, the average age of the core unit of Junkshow would hover around 38. We have had the pleasure of scabbing on some “young guns” if you will, but with that, comes the associated logistical challenges and anomalies that come with a generation plagued by helicopter parents and social media.

Teetering around what 20 years ago would be labeled as “over the hill”, comes with its own associated risks and challenges. Most of us have full time jobs or careers. Which has and continues to limit the amount of risk one is willing to take when your cash cow may be slaughtered at the bottom of a haphazardly scoped line or a saturated night prior to boot packing your “line.” Risk of injury looms near and clear when you have to rely on physical and emotional stability in anticipation of the next fire season. One starts to question the whole, risk versus reward montage if you will. “I know I can ski this line, I know I can shred this line, is it worth my career?”

Indiana Jones in ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ summed it up best for me one late night while hammering down beers, “It’s not the years honey, it’s the mileage” or perhaps Micah Black in some foggy memory of a Powder article, and to grossly paraphrase, “I woke up one day and the cliffs just looked bigger.” Regardless of what it is, you do start to lose some of your “marbles.”

Most of our reward comes from the search. The ability to do the research, gather the crew with abilities and the want and go zone hunting. Understanding fully that you could be lapping The Wall stacking your Epic Mix account whilst dealing with the kooks and conundrums that come with the current state of our ski industry and its blatant disregard for the local “hamsters” that keep the machine turning and burning, or be out with a select group of trusted, mountain savy, brothers and sisters that share the thirst for exploration and memories as fresh as the nights re-up or as foggy as your first light goggles.

So when the opportunity presented itself; the opportunity to scope zones both old and new, drink beer and ski with our friends (our new friends being a Canadian conveyor belt of smiles and dials) while capturing some frames and contributing to the cause, lets just say we were more than eager. More than eager to make a top ten list of the last 20 years of broken A-arms, gas caches and good times and open the ark to the chosen ones.

As stated previously, the mileage starts to add up. The drive, the want and the need are still there. I imagine much like a lead dog having its “young guns” nip at its tail all day and night, he may have the vision and the desire, but the abilities just flat out diminish. The knees hurt a bit more, the swag is a bit maligned, the mind may have a harder time catching up with the body or even vice versa.

So when the code is cracked for a new zone, there may be lines that sit for winters. Lines that we all see year after year. Morning light, no light, flat light, headlight?  On the perfect day, with the perfect light and the perfect breakfast, your line may go down. May not be you. Hopefully it’s you. Usually it’s you picking your shit up and digging for a ski while they try to keep you out of the next shot. Hoping for that next perfect breakfast.

Point being, it was downright badass to go out, drink beer and ski with your friends. Your friends that absolutely shredded each zone. Those lines that were perused and glassed year after year going down as warm-up laps. With second breakfast, lunch and dinner being French Cuisine that I couldn’t even pronounce. All with a smile, a beer in hand (or a Rockstar) and a good time in ready supply. Even while falling prey to our fearless leaders “oh we got this” or “20 more minutes and it’ll be in”, they trusted, followed and wallowed all in search of the source.

It was an honor and a privilege and a helluva good time. Hope ya’ll enjoy

-Junkshow

(During the winter of 2019, Junkshow linked up with the Blank Collective for several weeks to assist with filming and scouting locations for a portion of their new film The 7 Stages of Blank)

#Skiing #Powder #Backcountry #Tahoe #California #AlexiGodbout #JoshDaiek #The7StagesOfBlank #JunkShowMediaHouse #TimeToPlay #LastChair #BlankCollective #SkiDoo

[thelastchair]

Montana Nosebleed

(Written by Sam Cox - December 22. 2019)

The Bridger Brigade represents everything that’s right about skiing. In the event you’re not acquainted with them:

Bridger Brigade

Bridger Brigade Part II

This fall, Axel Peterson put together a retrospective entitled “Montana Nosebleed: Ten Years of Hucks and Heartbreaks” - I’d suggest watching it. We caught up recently to gain some insight about the project. 

-Axel, Montana Nosebleed is absolutely fucking beautiful.  How did it come to fruition?

Thank you Sam. It has been a long time coming (10 years in fact) since we all arrived in the big sky state with even bigger dreams. As we near the end of the decade and our 20’s we began thinking, “Hey, whatever happened to making the best ski movie ever?” and BAM we knew it was time to dust off the old hard drives. After the many weeks and beers it took to comb through 1 million gigabytes of footage, we realized that nobody wants to watch another minute of self-entitled “check-me-out” powder slashes with over exaggerated sound effects. So we decided to give the people what they really want: something real, low quality and rough aka a ten year crash movie. What is more real than eating shit with your buddies on the mountain? The name stemmed from the Brigade’s favorite cocktail “the Montana nosebleed” featured in the film’s intro and requiring some Coldsmoke beer, cheap whiskey, hot sauce, farm fresh egg, and Copenhagen (KT prefers already-chewed). Basically, we slapped some crashes together with some punk music and Rob held it down on the first take.

-Are you taking the film on tour?

We had a rowdy premier at a warehouse here in Bozeman in November. The screen was rigged from a welder’s shield, some magnets and duct tape and we had to run 60 feet of auxiliary cord through the crawl space to the sound system. All in all, it was a packed night and all 4 kegs were tapped in no time. We also took the film to Ketchum, ID for the Homegrown Film Fest, a fundraiser for the Sawtooth Avy Center. It was one of the more diverse films of the night and perhaps even a breath of fresh air for some. Now it is online for free, so go watch it.

-Give us an update on the Brigade - I know people are pursuing passions and living the good life….

Shit man, we are getting old. Randy just got his pilot license and is flying tours in Denver. Rob just bought a fishing boat to captain in AK this summer. I am doing film work full-time and working on more wildlife related projects. Despite all working ‘real’ jobs, we still find time to get together and FKNSNDR…we just prefer steeper landings now.

-What’s on tap for this season?

Hot laps at Bridger, some snowmobiling, and having a good fucking time! I am really hoping to get over to Idaho to continue working on the ‘Lost River Project’ which is on track to become our next ten year ski project.....

-Thanks for all of the stoke, inspiration and good times over the years.  Do you have any words of wisdom you’d like to share?

Keep your tips up and your phones down and make skiing great again! - Bridger Brigade

For your viewing pleasure:

#Skiing #Powder #Backcountry #FKNSNDR #Timetoplay #Weareskiing #Fullwingspan #Livethemoment #Skiacting #PitViper #KyleTaylor #RyanWalters #BombSnow #MontanaNosebleed #MattEvans #RandyEvans #ColterBrehmer #RobRaymond #BridgerBrigade #AxelPeterson #LastChair

[thelastchair]

18/19 Season Edit

(Written by Sidney Simard - October 7, 2019

This season was full of powder, big cliffs, and concussions... I competed all over North America and Europe.  I was also able to get out on the sled, and film as well.

   And of course had my fair share of blower days at Bridger.  Big thanks to all the sponsors, and everyone else who respects the grind.

#Skiing #Powder #Backcountry #LastChair #BridgerBowlPostalService #SidneySimard

[thelastchair]

Wanderlust

(Written by Sam Cox - March 31, 2019)

I don’t excel at staying in one place for an extended period of time. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, or perhaps wandering is my natural state. During the winter, I had some time off from work so I hatched a plan, attempted to capitalize on this opportunity and indulge my curiosity about what lies just beyond the horizon. The objectives were straightforward - get off the beaten path, ski some pow, laugh frequently and connect with as many friends as possible. My adventure started with a drive from Montana, south to Baja. Honestly, my Spanish is questionable at best and my surfing leaves even more to be desired, but these didn’t seem like insurmountable obstacles standing between myself and a good time. Baja is a magical place, but eventually I was ready to return north and transition into ski season.     

Winter graced the Intermountain West with abundant snowfall and I invested my time working the skintrack, catching the occasional sled tandem, riding ancient double chairs and linking up with skiers from near and far. 

A two week trip to Austria was the crown jewel of my season and will be forever etched into my memory. In the spirit of being on the road and the skiing community, I also made the trek to Canada for Powder Week.  

Along the way, I encountered some setbacks. I broke my wrist and a bone in my foot, from what I’ll call an “overabundance of recreation.” These incidents proved to have ramifications for getting into ski boots and holding a pole, but they also provided opportunities for patience and personal growth. 

Lift served skiing is starting to wind down for the year and I’ve returned to work, but as I reflect on the winter, it was a personal best for me. Thanks to everybody who came out and skied, friends dropping everything last minute to chase a storm and gracious hosts who make these endeavors possible. As usual I only brought the camera out a few days, but I certainly had a wonderful time.

#Junkshow Media House #skiing #powder #backcountry skiing #fullwingspan #time to play #last chair

[thelastchair]

Alps 2019

(Written by Arthur Scopic - March 29, 2019)

Landing Zurich **** On landing at Amsterdams Schipol, I knew something wasn't right, not just the usual transatlantic blear, but odd chills and fever. Texting my pal Subtle Plague, I warned him that I may have a cold or flu and may be infectious. He dismissed any concerns, citing their own little germ trawler as being of greater potential for flus or colds and nobly insisted we meet.

So, after nearly missing the connection to ZRH due to customs clogging at Schipol, I boarded the flight to Zurich, dozed some more in that jetlag timewarp and embarked on the train for Konstanz from ZRH.

Konstanz, Subtle Plague **** Subtle Plague met me at the train station and ferried me to his house to meet his family and set me up for a nap before we headed out to the Gotthard zones. I considered just taking a hotel and convalescing but hope sprang eternal in my skiersoul, so next morning we headed out on the Swiss highways to the Gotthard tunnel and Airolo.

Konstanz

It was over twenty years ago that I landed in Geneva and contracted a cold and rather than taking it easy, jumped into skiing around La Grave, Serre Chevalier, Puy St. Vincent and the Milky Way. But by the 6th day or so, while skiing at Val Thorens, I knew something was seriously wrong. I shortly spiraled into fill blown pneumonia, eventually requiring IV antibiotics on returning to the US.

Airolo ****

So this time, I was going to be smarter and on arriving at Airolo, despite the pow and sunshine, I deferred on the skiing and snoozed in Subtle Plagues RV. I took solace in the fact that one of the more widely read ski weather forecasters had explicitly directed his followers to Airolo, resulting in crowding and pow frenzy that chewed up the snow at what is normally a low key area. Such is the internet.

At days end, we drove up a nearby valley and camped out for what ended up being one of the most fevered nights I'd ever had. My throat burned on every swallow and my head throbbed with a thundersome sinus headache resulting in little sleep. So once again, skiing that day was not for me. Subtle Plague was a prince about it all, understanding and left me to me convalescing.

Konstanz Again ****

At days end after Subtle and buddies had enjoyed a powdery tour, we rolled back to Konstanz in the RV. Konstanz is a beautiful town, with it's older buildings and neighborhoods having escaped some of the ravages of WWII by virtue of being on the Swiss border and thereby not targetted by bombing raids. I knew that Subtle and family had a busy Monday morning ahead of them so after sleeping Saturday night and being feasted and feted by their hospitality, I trundeled off in a train headed to St. Anton Sunday afternoon.

St. Anton, Haus Elisabeth, Arlberg Guides, Verwall, Hinterrendl **** I had initially planned to roll out East to the Gasteinertal and ski that zone, but the flu caused to me to reevaluate that plan. I wrote the wonderful folks at Hotel Echo Bad Gastein and cancelled my room there and dredged around for another option in St. Anton when I found Das-Elisabeth which fit my requirements of being reasonably close to the train station. So I booked a room there. It proved to be an excellent choice with a superb breakfast and quiet spot to finish this flu. I again chose not to ski the first day, but with a suggestion from the host, Berthe, found a doctor to check me out and write a script for the antibiotics I knew I'd need after this flu. I walked around the village in a howler snowstorm, got a good sleep and readied myself for the first turns of the trip.

St. Anton is HUGE and I not knowing it at all, I opted to try to find some guided options. The best deal I found was with the Arlberg-Guides who offered a guided group option for 97Euros. This turned out not only a great option, but fortuitous as well by virtue of meeting Sebastyn.

The lift system is staggering with a base terminal at the Galzigbahn looking like a spaceship.

The day broke blue and crowds were massive with enormous lines at the Galzigbahn. Our guide circumnavigated that queue, opting for the Gampenbahn chair for a checkout run before taking us down into Schongraben for some quality pow.

Next up, we rode up into the Galzig zone, hoping to get up into the Schindlerspitz. But due to avalanche levels being up to 4, both the Schindlergrabahn and the Valuga were closed. On traversing out towards the Arlberg Pass, we could see a gargantuan liftline at the Arlenmaderbahn, so we took a high traverse to access the Albonabahn II.

View from Albonabahn II

After a few laps down that we skied the North face down into Stuben and used the old Albonabahn chair to get back to the Albonabahn II and started down into a beautiful valley ending the day in Verwall with beer and local game charcuterie. ****************************************************************************************************

I found a sign for a museum that turned out to be a beautiful old chalet that was a combination ski museum and restaurant, so I went in for a light dinner.

Karl Schranz's Kneissl White Stars

Next day, another storm had moved in, so I elected to repeat with Arlberg Guides and again skied with Sebastyn, a sharp wit and keen skier who had grown up skiing in the Arlberg. We had a different guide who, after a warm up on the Gampenbahn, took us over to the North facing Rendelbahn zone. After riding several lifts we dropped over into Hinterrendl, a spectacular bowl of excellent powder with views obscured by storm.

Old door in St. Anton

The day after, it was still storming but I wanted to have a little more free reign, so I elected to skip the Arlberg Guides. I had also moved hotels to the Hotel Kirchplatz which was a bit East of the town center and closer to the Nassereinbahn where I started the day. Lo and behold, there was Sebastyn who kindly offered to ski with me that day. After a couple of runs, we hooked up with his friend Victoria and spent a few laps skiing the powder in what I'll call the Galzig Gullies near the Osthangbahn chair. It was light, thigh deep snow in among the trees with decent visibility. After a bit, Vicki suggested that we meet up with her boyfriend Yannick who was to get off guide duty at noon, so we skied back down to the Nasserein base. Yannick got off and suggested another lap down the powder in Schongraben. While chatted on the lifts as we sampled snow over in the Galzig zone, we found that Victoria's mom is Berthe who manages Haus Elisabeth. The Freakwhency strikes again! We ended the day with beer and wienerschitzer at the Krazy Kangaroo around 3:00. A big thanks to Seb, Vicki and Yannick!

View from Hotel Kirchplatz

Old St. Anton chalet

The next day, Friday, was my last day in the Arlberg and it was forecast to dump with rising freezing levels. Sebastyn had to head back to school, so I decided just to roll solo around the Galzig Gullies and whatever else was visible. This proved to be not much. The day started with spooky snow fractures in the trees around the gullies, but failed to actually slide on the ski cuts I put in. So I raged solo mad laps mostly on the Galzigbahn until about 1:00 when it started to rain at the bottom. By 2:00 I was soaked, so I headed back to the Hotel Kirchplatz to wash and dry stuff. It's a great hotel with a sauna, wellness spa and free washer and dryer which I sorely needed. By 3:30 I was at the bahnhof and by 4:00, rolling to Klosters.

I can see why the Arlberg is so popular: it's massive and gets a lot of snow. At the same time, it's crowded and lots of the businesses in town are jaded by tourists. I was extremely lucky to hook up with Sebastyn, Victoria and Yannick who were incredibly warm and abundant and convinced me that my aversion to St. Anton as an instance of a megaresort, was ill founded. I'll be back. ****************************************************************************************************

Klosters, Hotel Wynegg, bw_wp_hedonism, Gargellan, St. Antonien **** After a 3.5 hour jaunt on Austrian and Swiss trains, I stepped onto the platform in Klosters Platz, right next to the soaring Gotschnabahn tram. I had been in touch with bw_wp_hedonism who had generously offered to meet up. I had also dug around for a reasonably priced room, a somewhat rare beast in Klosters and had stumbled across Wynegg, a recently revamped old hotel which was establishing itself as a haute gourmando locus. So I booked a room there, a 10 minute walk from the bahnhof. bw_wp_hedonism pinged me via whatsapp and turned up in the hotel bar. We made plans for the next day to poke around Parsenn, one of 5 enormous lift systems in the Davos/Klosters complex.

I was a little late and with blue sky and fresh pow, the lines at the Gotschnabahn were significant. bw_wp_hedonism had waited and we ran into his buddy Tom and were off. We raged all over the Parsenn, up to the summit via the Furka lifts and then the Gipfelbahn where we found sweet deep untracked snow on a variety of North facing exposures.

View from Schiferbahn gondola

The area is laced with dozens of groomers that keep lots of tourists busy and provided access to an innumerable wad of excellent off piste options. After a couple of laps on the Schiferbahn in excellent pow, we met with a bunch of bw_wp_hedonism at the midmountain near the base of the Furka lift for lunch. After a lengthy lunch we made a few more sidecountry laps by taking bootpacks and traverses off the Totalp zone, eventually making apres ski at Berghaus Schifer.

View from midmountain Parsenn, untapped offpiste above

I rolled back to the Wynegg for a shower and nap before taking a table in the restaurant at 8:30.

The food was superb, starting with an excellent salad, I ordered a soup that was celestial: a foamed saffron broth and perfectly poached prawns. The wine list was fantastic with a crisp chardonnay and an excellent local, rich pinot noir by the glass. I finished with the specialty pizokel noodle and lamb in a deliciously deft creamed curry sauce. I zonked out by 22:00.

bw_wp_hedonism had referred to doing a tour I had eyeballed for years, one that went over a little pass above the Madrisa area over into the Voralberg and the Gargellen ski area, then back over to Switzerland and the tiny medieval town of St. Antonien.

**************************************************************************************************** On waking, we texted back and forth making plans to meet at the top of the Madrisabahn and head out. And so we did. It was amazing with an easy, gently ascending skin S/SE from the top of the Schaffugli lift to the Schlappiner Joch and the border with Austria.

Looking south from Madrisa

On the skintrack to Schlappiner Joch. Schlappiner where?

At Schlappiner Joch

The ski down from there was on beautiful sparsely tracked North facing steep slopes with a long and easy run out down to Gargellen where we had to stop in at the base of the gondola to get single ride passes back up to the top of the Kristelbahn and a slightly more significant climb up to the Sankt Antonier Joch.

From there. it was a West/Northwest facing series of virgin pow lines draining down into a creek gully which fed us out onto a road requiring the canonical walk in ski boots down into the atmospheric town of St. Antonien clustered around a spike steepled church dated 1492. There we enjoyed beer and charcuterie until the bus came and we wound around curves connecting ancient villages down to the train station at Kublis.

St. Antonien

At the Kublis bahnhof, I thanked bw_wp_hedonism and pal Tom for their gracious abundance, I had had an amazing time around Davos, again, more data that eroded my reluctance to ski at the more reknown areas.

I rallied back to Klosters and the Hotel Wynegg, extending my sincere thanks to Cedric and all the folks who run an incredibly warm and tasteful hotel to which I hope to return. Grabbing my clothes and gear, I hopped the train for Rueras, Switzerland to meet up with the motley band of maggots at MtLodge

****************************************************************************************************

Rueras, MtLodge **** The train actually ended in Disentis with the last leg of the trip to Rueras in the trusty Swiss postbus which kindly dropped me at the very door to the hotel. There I met the owner, Michele, an effusive and warm persona who set me up with a sweet room and delicious food and drink. He had also queued up a number of routes and tours that I had ogled for years. But first, sleep. It was dumping.

Morning brought delicious coffee and the classic Euro breakfast spread while making plans with all the k00ks who had rendezvoused at MtLodge With fairly heavy snow coming down, we decided to ride lifts from Dieni, a 10 minute walk from the hotel, over towards Andermatt and see how far we got. The forecast 5-10 cm turned out to be more like 20-30 cm and deeper in the wind loaded places. At Dieni, we made 1 lap before heading up and over into Val-Val where we kind of got stuck lapping a sweet stash of pow at least 4 times before punching it further West into the Oberalppass zone and ripping lines of powder varying from boot top to waist deep until lunch was called at the hutte there. When Mr. Mike and I tried to share a charcuterie board, the waiter either misunderstood or was taking the tourists for a ride, yelling "YOU ORDER, I MAKE" as we tried to clarify we only wanted 1 order.

Afternoon brought a few more laps on the Schneehuenderstck gondy before we started making our way back towards Dieni where again we spun run after run of virgin pow turns, finally some of us throwing in the towel at 3:00 after milking one more untracked zone. We took the sled run all the way back to Rueras and MtLodge for drinks and a delicious dinner. More of the maggot crew had arrived.

Dieni

Next morning Tuesday, most of the fistful had targeted Andermatt, so we took the early train over and ramped and raged off the Gemsstock tram. Skiing the West couloirs first thing proved to be not such a good idea for some. After a warm up, a few of us went out to ski the Giraffe which only had about 15 tracks in it. We returned to it again later to find only 30 or so tracks. After a few more front side runs, the whole fistful took the Guspis down to Hospental which had wide swaths of uncut snow and the usual stunning scenery, ending with beer and dried meats at the Gotthard Haus before a train ride back to Rueras.

Guspis at 4:00 pm

Skiing into Hospental

Next day, Wednesday, the host with the most, Michele at mt-lodge, had arranged enough transport for us to go over to St. Moritz via the Juler Pass and Bivio. Once at Corvatsch, the highest ski area in St. Moritz, we met Michele's buddy Matteo who took us first down the Northwest couloir to ski acres of stunning pow, then over to Val Roseg past Piz Roseg and the Morteratsch Gletscher and down to lunch at Hotel Restaurant Roseg Gletscher which was awesome. Then an ugly 37 minute long pole and skate out to Pontresina to catch the bus over to Corviglia where we took the 2 stage funicular and a chair ride. Then a little traverse and bootpack to drop into Val Bever with hectares of uncut, Northwest facing powder skiing. The day ended at Gasthaus Spinas with beer and another series of train and bus rides back to pizza in Celerina.

Lunch of cream of asparagus soup with prawn at Hotel Restaurant Roseg Gletscher

Icefall off back of Piz Roseg

Piz Roseg

****************************************************************************************************

Dropping into Val Bever

Thursday, the morning destination was Disentis, a 5 minute train ride to Acla da Fontauna and a short walk up to the tram.It was a gorgeous bluebird day with evidence of the suns heat on some of the south facing slopes. After a warm up, we took a short skin up to one of the entries to Val Strem to the West. With a little downclimb from the col into a couloir, we were set for a few thousand vertical of Northwest facing pow surrounded by rock and ice. We skied out to the train at Sedrun and hopped it, going West pver to Andermatt to meet with another portion of the crew. The afternoon was spent mostly skiing in the main bowl under the upper Gemsstock and finishing with a lap out into the Felsental where we continued to find good soft lightly tracked powder.

Val Strem entrance couloir

Scott smoking up the Val Strem pow

Val Strem from the bottom

Felsental

****************************************************************************************************

Friday, the last day at Rueras, we had planned to do the Oberalpstock, a well known descent of over 2000 meters, and one I had lusted after for a decade. North facing down into the Maderental valley. Michele had arranged for guides, some Italian friends of his and we  were off to start at 8:30 on the early Disentis tram. The original plan had been for the group of 17 to split into 2 groups, one to do the Oberalpstock, which has some technical parts, and the other group to take a more mellow tour down into Val Strem. Unfortunately, our guides were not comfortable with splitting the group, so some of us decided to not take the tour and instead ski pistes at Disentis.

The climb involved a fairly easy skin to start with then a bit of a traverse to a via ferrata that climbs a rocky section and leads onto another traverse followed by a short downhill section. I am notoriously slow on the skin track, so by the time we skied the short downhill section and started another longer climb, I was far behind the main group. At one point the skin track split with one variation going to the climbers left and up to the summit of the Oberalpstock itself. The right branch took a mellower ascent to a shoulder where the actual skiing down the North side began. I was convinced the group had headed up the summit and I was lagging, so I headed up intent on catching up with the rest of the group. But in fact, they had taken the mellower right branch and were waiting for me there. Hell bent on summiting, I argued in broken English with the guide, Rosso who relented and accompanied me to the summit where to my surprise there were no other members of the group. So I skied down mashed potato snow from the south facing summit and sidestepped to catch the group.

Oberalpstock traverse before via ferrata

Climbing the via ferrata

Oberalpstock summit selfie

View across first portion of Oberalpstock after via ferrata

View from the Oberalpstock summit

Looking down into Maderental 2400 vertical meters below

Skiing down the Oberalpstock

The Oberalpstock is enormous and despite a lot of tracks, we found sections of uncut, consistent steep pitches rolling North into the Maderental of vertical drop around 2200 meters. One section near the bottom was hard ice and the guides set up ropes to help control that section.

Eventually we skied corn in an avalanche chute down into a cow pasture. It was an all-time route appropriate to end the trip.

Walking along the Maderental

Special thanks to Michele for organizing the trips to St. Moritz, the Oberalpstock and providing warm, abundant hospitality at MtLodge. Also thanks to my ski fiend pals Subtle Plague, bw_wp_hedonism and all the maggot k00ks who showed up to sample skiing in the Swiss Alps.

MountainLodge

#skiing #powder #europe #last chair #backcountry #alps

[thelastchair]

Wayward

(Written by Isaac Walden - March 8, 2019)

I can remember talking to a sales person at a little outdoor store in Eastern Washington; I was no older than seventeen and we were talking about a photo of a mountain that hung on the wall, Abercrombie Hooknose.  The sales person said, “so many mountains, so little time.”  It resonated with me; a radical looking peak in a range that I didn’t even know existed.  That statement was enough to kick start a young impressionable mind into motion.

Since then I have spent countless days thinking about snowfall and mountains, so much so, that if it were in University I’d be a Doctor, or in the private sector, a Journeyman. Countless hours spent looking at weather models and forecasts.  Looking at avalanche bulletin after bulletin. I have gone “all-in” on one location only to have Mother Nature call my feeble pocket threes.  She throws down wind or the dreaded warm-up, or simply sends the whole house of cards crashing down to the valley with a simple turn of “the avalanche triangle.”  Sending me wayward, to look for my story down another road.

In chasing winters coattails, totally unexpected things happen.  The memories, time and time again, come from the people you meet.  It’s the locals that might think skiing is a ridiculous sport that holds no monetary value, are the stories.

It’s the two cowboys in Elko, Nevada having a casual conversation over breakfast about a few newborn calves that where born with no hair, “it’s the darndest thing…”

It’s the lady in Riggins, Idaho, bare foot in a shirt proudly declaring “drinks well with others” sticking her head out the window of her truck and yelling “ I’m the woman of your dreams” and promptly jamming her exposed foot on the throttle of the late 90’s GMC.  The truck shutters and draws a straight line into the snow covered road we had just snowmobiled down. The arrow like trajectory of the truck now interrupted by hub deep snow, bounces and sways in an erratic swimming fashion, until it disappears behind the curves of the mountain road, only to appear again shortly after.  The lady stops the GMC, steps out, and breaks into a full on nunchaku demonstration.

It’s the old timers in Hyder, Alaska:  Russ, with a short grey beard and cloudy blue eyes who had somehow tricked his wife into moving out of the lower 48. Dean, who spent most of his life in every imaginable corner of Alaska and now seems to pass his time flirting with Russ’ wife; and Bill, a traveling mechanic on the Cassiar Highway, living in the neighboring town of Stewart, but bought a house in Hyder so he didn’t have to pass through BC Customs after the Glacier Inn Bar closes.  The three of these guys would come by our camp to check on us daily, usually with a beer in their laps as the drove the five miles of United States infrastructure available to them because that’s what you do in a lawless land locked corner of The Last Frontier.  Often, they would find their way to our campfire at the end of the road where they would blast polka “Nufie Music” and tell us tales of winters past.

It’s the geology lesson put on by a guy living in a teepee in Lamoille Canyon, Nevada.  

It’s playing pool in the Mineshaft Pub in Bralorne, BC.  It’s having beers with the locals at the Yacht Club in McCall, Idaho or the Brick in Rosslyn, Washington or The Village Idiot or Last Drop in Revelstoke, BC.  It’s a glimpse into small town North America that will resonate with you.

#skiing #powder #backcountry #junkshow media house #last chair #full wingspan #travel #tahoe #yacht club