In the annals of freeskiing history, there is Scot Schmidt and there is everyone else. With a boldness and unique style that would revolutionize the sport, he dropped off cliffs and onto TV screens of an entire generation, redefining not only what was possible on skis but what it meant to be a professional skier. The smooth, the fast, the first: Scot Schmidt.
Words: Mike Berard

I am going to race Scot Schmidt. Of course, he doesn’t know this yet. The two of us are standing on a ridge in Fernie, B.C.’s Lizard Range, pulled deep inside our hoods and struggling to hear our guide explain a particular fall line over the gusting winds. We are at Island Lake Lodge, a privately owned, 7,000-acre catskiing operation as famous for its massive snowfall as for the media circus that blew it up in the ‘90s. It was here where Greg Stump’s iconic 1993 film P-Tex, Lies and Duct Tape first brought Schmidt and Craig Kelly, exposing the world to the riches of the Kootenays. The film’s cover shot features Schmidt flying through the air in trademark style, hands forward, a tight crouch, slightly cocked to the side...

Subscribe to start your collection of The Ski Journal.


The Ski Journal Mailing List

We respect your time, and only send you the occasional update.