A Ski is Born

"Dude. I'm at the end of the world in Tierra del Fuego. I need shots for the ad in Powder, the snow is boilerplate, and the cores are breaking down. I'm flippin' here." On the phone with our ski designer back in the States, I explain how our prototype ski has manifested a fatal flaw unnoticed in shorter-duration tests performed at Mt. Hood in July. �Redesign the ski for the core specs I originally wanted and ship them," I demand. The conversation goes downhill from there. I'm responsible for the design and testing of PM Gear's rollout flagship ski, the Bro Model. With a development, manufacturing, and delivery schedule already set on what was likely the fastest conception to delivery timeline imaginable, this setback could prove devastating. I've seen prototypes fail like this in Argentina before, in August, shortly before a scheduled production run. It's scary shit.

In Jack London's 'To Build a Fire', an epic Alaskan tale of a man lost in the wilds trying to survive a subzero night while wet and cold, I find an analogy that reflects the toils of building a ski. Argentine snows had dropped off the branches and put out our blazing momentum. Fighting to keep the dream alive amidst this snafu, I light a fire under Ben, our designer/builder, spit the dimensions for a new core design off the top of my head, then demand he FedEx them to me immediately. Unlike London's desperate character, I refuse to accept ending the Bro Model project two gates from the finish line.

Originally discussed here on the powdermag.com forums years ago, the concept of a PowderMaggot-designed and -built ski was a pipedream borne of internet chatter. Even after Maggots converged to form an upstart online gear enterprise, PM Gear, www.pmgearusa.com, to provide the online brotherhood of skiers with exceptional products at exceptional prices, the thought of evolving into a ski company seemed as close as a six foot Sierra powder dump in July. But a chance meeting with some snowboard manufacturers and an out-of-the-blue phone call from someone looking to have some skis built morphed into the need for a new ski company. The opportunity to build a ski had arrived, six months before the season. Armed with minimal cash, a short feasibility study, and a whole lot of desire, PM Gear dropped into the venture and found building a ski is not as easy as sounds.

PM Gear sets a lofty goal and decides to build that ever-elusive ski everyone wants: A ski that would meet any challenge and deliver superior performance in all conditions. A powder ski that floats and rails in the deep, yet holds an edge to carve everywhere else. We analyzed top-performing skis and categorized their best characteristics and features, from widths to lengths, sidecuts to materials, and performance to drawbacks, core thickness, and tail and tip designs. We went online to consult Maggots on the details they seek in a ski. Starting from scratch with Ben, a guy who knew how to build great snowboards, designing a ski proved to be an entirely different endeavor. Now, in September, with an end-of-October delivery date scheduled for fifty Maggot preorders, we discover a core flaw that requires a major redesign of the ski.

If we weren't in southern Argentina, 800 miles north of Antarctica and two weeks away in FedEx time, a prototype failure wouldn't seem so critical. I would have to fly 2,000 miles north to Buenos Aires to pick up the package, but all flights to BA are booked. Expedited shipping options exhausted, we pack up to head home to the shop just ahead of the infamous Santa Rosa storms set to pound the Andes. Trapped in Buenos Aires for five long days due to hurricanes in Florida that shut down the Miami leg of our flight, our frustration grows. In cafes and bars, we mull over every possible change. We know we have the right dimensions, sidecut, radius, sidewalls, and topsheet. That had all been worked out at Mt. Hood in July. The core needs to be reshaped--beefed up underfoot with the correct taper to the tip and tail. For some odd reason, it had been shaped a bit too much like a snowboard core. Our mission is laid out for us as soon as we return to the States. And time is against us.

Upon our return, we redesign the Bro Model and head off to Mt. Hood for six consecutive weeks. At the same time, we finalize designs on two other skis we are building under contract with another company. It's a full plate. We leave Tahoe around five in the afternoon on Fridays, arriving at Hood to catch a couple hours sleep before skiing. We test our new prototypes, then head back to the shop to make adjustments, lay up new protos, and drive back to Hood again. The schedule and 1500 mile round trips take us to the edge of complete exhaustion. Finally, after endless minisculecore changes, we make a ski we know will rule. Our schedule is dictated by necessity and loyalty to those who had the faith to pay up front. The Maggot brotherhood is strong; to breach that faith is unimaginable. At the end of September, we send the ski to production. But even in production, schedules have a way of succumbing to delays.

Fighting tooth and nail to get the ski out of a factory committed to projects in thirty other directions proves as difficult as designing it. Concurrently building the two other skis that require a multitude of pre-production design adjustments, valuable Bro Model production time is burned making other prototypes. Other side jobs--sidewalls for a snowboard company, a private label snowboard for a vineyard, and cores for someone else tie up the machinery. We finally start producing Bro Models only to discover our first run is plagued with topsheets out of line. Another side job that is behind schedule takes precedence over the Bro Models again. Deadlines that were promised now get stretched out to a month overdue. The angst is overwhelming. Then, the season comes a month early. The buzz for turns amongst buyers intensifies as we miss deadlines and buyers get anxious. Refunds are issued and we sweat pulling the whole thing off as we run months behind schedule with no valid excuse.

Just ahead of production, we developed three flexes of the same ski, from soft to stiff to very stiff. Though we could fund only one length and sidecut, three flexes are developed to make the Bro Model available to more skiers. For freeheelers, we add a perforated stainless steel plate in the toe mounting area to hold tight for the torque and wrenching telemarkers can put on toepieces. For some bi-slidual individuals who want to be able to switch bindings on plates, we place inserts into the core, allowing them to change plates with bindings attached. Diagrams and measurements exchanged, again, over the Internet.

We are promised delivery of the first 20 pair on November 1. The first batch has crooked topsheets, the second has sidewall flaws. On November 23, we finally ship up seven pair, then more, and more. The Bro models guinea pig the first ski production for this snowboard factory. December approaches, skis start getting pressed at an almost acceptable rate. Just as the problems are solved, the factory shifts production to meet commitments for another 100 pair of skis for the other company with which we have a contract. As project manager of a run that has fallen woefully behind schedule my frustrations intensify. - a month behind schedule. Finally, patience pays off, and the Bro Model ski becomes a reality. Slowly.

Faced with innumerable unforeseen obstacles, we learn many things the hard way. But, unlike the man in Jack London's tale who froze to death just a rocks throw from his camp and a fire that would have ensured his survival in the Alaskan wilds, we refused to give up. Bro Models have now been shipped throughout the US and countries abroad. Maggots and non-Maggots alike receive their skis every day. We continue to deliver on our idea - to create a killer pair of boards, in six short months, start to finish. As we now prepare to ship more Bro Models to more owners, the troubles and trials of putting a ski together in such a short timeframe seems a blur. A press release hits the Internet and the buzz grows worldwide. As orders are filled, the Bros start sneaking into magazine shots. We debate the future, entertaining thoughts of our own factory and more models next year.

The Bro Model was the first ski ever conceived online by a group of people who met online, run a business online, sell the ski online, and chronicled the entire process online during that six month period, from Mt Hood to Argentina to Tahoe. A hot topic on Internet ski forum messages boards in countries everywhere, the Bro Model exists as a tribute to the worldwide Maggot brotherhood's ability to manifest the greatest of things, without ever meeting face-to-face. Our most sincere thanks to the Bros that made it possible - the Maggots.