Snowboarding and the internet grew up together. Literally. The same year we got the World Wide Web, the very first terrain park opened. Emerging from their respective countercultures, snowboarding and the internet promised new dimensions of the human experience.
Fast forward a couple of decades to the YoBeat era and the internet’s made everyone’s anonymous. Everyone except the park rat getting torn a new one in the comments section.
It’s 2019, and YoBeat’s dead. So is Transworld. With magazines and movies on the way out, the internet feels like a cruel stepfather commanding a new set of rules over the household. Under the tyranny of YouTube and Instagram, our passion is reduced to likes, views, and followers. Sure, the old lures of sponsors and gold medals weren’t perfect either, but at least with those, it was (mostly) snowboarders in control. The platforms don’t give a shit whether you’re dropping impeccable pillow lines or giving makeup tutorials. If all we are is “content,” at least we’re going to be con·tent while doing it.
As the internet marches forward, snowboarding romanticizes about a simpler time of VHS and DVDs. This was my attempt to inject some rhythm into the algorithm — from the Colorado wilderness to Salt Lake City to my home-sweet-anthill known as Hyland Hills. And if you’ve read this far, congrats. It’s time to fire up a screen that doesn’t fit in your pocket, turn up the volume, and see if it’s still possible to focus on something for eight minutes.
