Big Mountain Madness

Jeremy Jones isn’t like most pro snowboarders.

You watch this guy on the big screen, racing his slough down hairball chutes and airing over massive spines on 45-50 degree AK walls, and then you meet him in person and he’s this laid back, sweet nice guy with a smile so warm it could melt an iceberg. He’s more low maintenance than the typical chain-wallet and baggy pants snowboarder guy you’re likely to find hanging around Tahoe where he lives with his wife Tiffany and daughter Mia. Mostly he just wants to hang out with his girls and get as much surfing in as he can during his downtime (Mia had been to Baja three times before she was even six months old). 

In a sport with a short attention span, Jones’s big mountain skills have bought him some serious staying power simply because he’s untouchable. But he’s also a rare breed in a fickle world where pros have a short shelf life and the progression is always accelerating too fast for most riders to keep up with for long. Jones is probably one of the only snowboarders out there who has stuck with one board sponsor his entire career and it’s paid off. He’s now designing “The Jeremy Jones Experience” for Rossignol, a whole line of boards and backcountry accessories. The Cape Cod, Massachusetts native has been with the company since he started out as a snowboard racer when he was in high school at Carrabasset Valley Academy in Sugarloaf, Maine in the early ‘90s. When he missed the 1998 Olympic bid by fractions of a second to his cousin and Cross-M teammate, Adam Hostetter, he walked away from racing and never looked back. But there’s no doubt that those technical, practiced skills for managing speed laid the foundation for what he does today—not to mention it’s a lot more fun.

Lat34: You’ve been on the forefront of big mountain riding since the beginning. How far as the progression come in the last ten years? 

Jeremy Jones: There’s always this sub-progression of trying to bring more freestyle riding into big mountains, and that’s a long-term process that everyone is slowly evolving toward. We’re still only doing that type of riding on way mellower terrain. There’s tons of room for growth in that area and it’s going to take years, but it will always be the goal of most snowboarders out there and very few will achieve it. There’s also the evolution of pure big mountain riding—going bigger, smoother, faster, steeper. There will always be an appreciation for people ripping fluid smooth lines down big mountains

Lat34: What about your own personal progression?

JJ: The cool thing with big mountain riding is it’s something you really progress toward your whole life. All your experiences are needed. It’s a long, complicated process. It takes patience. You need to accept what the mountains are giving on any particular day. Some years they’re screaming, ‘Get the hell out,’ and you have to go home. And some years you can get away with a lot. The easiest part is strapping in and getting to ride. The hard part is the anticipation—dealing with the fear, the unknown, waiting for the perfect conditions, and getting all the information you need to prepare for it. There’s a lot of homework, and that’s the hard part. The riding part is easy compared to all the preparation that goes into it. 

Lat34: What can we expect to see from you in this year’s videos?

JJ: I just got back from the first Standard Film movie premiere of “Draw the Line.” It was definitely one of the rowdiest segments I’ve ever had. It kind of took me by surprise. It reconfirmed that people just love to see balls out slough racing. It was one of the bigger reactions I’ve ever had to a movie segment. I wasn’t anticipating that. I was pretty nonchalant going into it.

Lat34: You? Nonchalant? What a surprise.

JJ: [laughs] I didn’t expect such a big reaction. So that was a really cool experience for me. It just goes to show, pure big mountain riding is still exciting for people to watch. I don’t think I had one trick in my part this year, but it turned out to be the best-received video part I ever had. 

Lat34: You’ve been in the game a long time. How have you kept your career going for so long?

JJ: There are still very few people who have dedicated their life to big mountain riding. I’m one of the few people who do it, so it stands out. There are so many freestyle riders and they’re all progressing so fast so there’s a lot of competition for them. You’ll see these 90-foot backside 9s and it won’t even register a cheer in a movie theatre. I’ve watched it live and stood at the top of those jumps going, ‘There’s no way I’m even going to hit that thing.’ and then someone does a 1080 over it and it ends up being a two-second clip and it hardly registers with the audience. It takes a lot for a freestyler to get noticed.

Lat34: Your brothers own Teton Gravity Research and you star in a lot of their movies [Standard Films also uses TGR’s footage]. Do you think you would have taken the same path if it weren’t for them?

JJ: I definitely would have pursued it on my own. In the beginning we only worked together a little bit, and over time we’ve been able to work more and more. Now I film exclusively with them. It has nothing to do with them being my brothers. They’re the safest, most professional people and that’s who I want to be with when I’m out there. They put a ton of energy into finding and exploring new places that will be the best for the athletes. It’s constantly evolving, and I’ve been fortunate to be a big part of that. 

Lat34: When do will you say, 'I've had enough. I'm good,' and walk away? Do you worry about the risk over the long term?

JJ: Enough is enough when I lose that hunger to charge these lines and feel like I’ve stopped progressing. In terms of risk, hitting these spines and stuff that we do is actually a lot safer in terms of avalanche danger because it’s so steep. I would way rather be in my shoes than the guy guiding four beginners. That’s the thing that’s crazy with the mountains. You can decide you’re going to tone back and just be a guide, but that’s even more dangerous. Look what happened to Craig Kelly—you’re never in the clear. It’s not like the people who are getting gnarly are the ones going down. That’s what so scary. I either walk away all together, or I keep doing what I do.

Lat34: What kind of preparation goes into riding a line?

JJ: It’s mentally exhausting. I don’t film that many days because I know what it takes to get shots in the movie and the bar I’ve set is high. I’ll wait for the conditions to be perfect, for me to be warmed up and feel strong and hungry. A lot of riders go out and film 40 days a year. Last winter I filmed five days and they were five spectacular days. I waited a long time for those perfect days. I know when the time is right to say, ‘let’s go make a movie.’ The key is being in tune with the mountains and knowing when the time is right. 

Lat34: Tragedies are a consequence of your sport. Last winter Doug Coombs, one of your most prominent guides, died in La Grave, France. I know you were also pretty close with Craig Kelly before he died in an avalanche in Canada. How you deal with death?

When Doug Coombs died this year it shook the whole community up. There’s not a single person out there that would have a bigger impact. He was my mentor, and I always thought of him as untouchable one. It really hit home when you see someone like him die. You realize no one is untouchable. It’s definitely something I struggle with and question and it’s hard. Doug died when we were in Alaska dealing with one of the heaviest avy cycles we’ve ever had. It really put everything into perspective. Do you stop living? It just makes you be that much more cautious and on it to make sure you come home every day. It gives you respect for the power of the mountains, but it’s also scary. No one is above that no matter who they are.

Lat34: Do you ever have to back off and decide not to do a line?

All the time. When you’re out there those decisions can be so hard, but then when I get home, I wonder why I struggle so much with it. It’s like summit fever. I do all I can to not have it—that’s why having a guide I trust is so important. When I see a sick line I want to ride, I’m a kid in a candy store. It’s hard to turn your back on these insane lines. I might need the guide to step in and make me think about it and reevaluate. It doesn’t happen often [that I need someone to tell me what to do], but it’s important I surround myself with guides that aren’t afraid to step in and do their job. 

Lat34: When you drop in, is it usually what you expected?

JJ: Definitely. You’re blowing it if you don’t know every little snow texture, aspect, and feature.  I always expect the worst. I assume the airs are going to be bigger, I expect pockets to pop or for the snow to be harder than I thought. I’ll look at little debris in the outrun and assume it’s going to be a lot bigger. I’m always thinking, ‘Where will I go or what will I do if this happens,’ and am always ready for the worst. That’s what all that preparation is all about. I do my homework.

Lat34: You’re a family man. How has getting married and having your first child changed you? How do you able to balance it with your job?

JJ: Having a child has definitely been a big change. It’s interesting because part of me wants to just go be a UPS delivery man and watch my daughter grow up. I don’t want to do anything that harms that. I loved my wife before I had a kid but now I get so much fulfillment  from hanging with my daughter. Part of me just wants to chill and hang out with her, but it’s something about the mountains that has a hold on me. When I get into mountains and see the stuff that’s rideable and I can’t sleep at night because I think about it so much that it eats away at me. Having a child makes me do my homework a little bit more, but judging from my recent footage I’ve seen it hasn’t slowed me down or affected my snowboarding one bit. If anything, I don’t know why, but I was pushing it even more.