After moving to Steamboat Springs a year and a half ago from my native city of Denver, I fell into learning what “community” really means. It’s not, (thankfully), about joining the PTA or going to town hall meetings.

It’s about having Kelli, the Safeway pharmacist, in my text thread in case her four kids need to be shuttled somewhere after her hip surgery. It’s about dropping beers off to Mikey, the car mechanic, in exchange for a tire repair. It’s about the woman at the post office who offers to pay for your lost package from her own pocket. These everyday interactions become meaningful entry points into this town, like capillaries that lead to larger veins and then arteries. Everyone is someone, and we’re all connected somehow.Ěý

And because this small town is also Ski Town USA, the blood that flows through it all is our favorite winter sport, and there’s nowhere you feel the connection pulsing stronger than the annual Ski Swap.

Technically, the Ski Swap is a used gear sale and fundraiser for the Winter Sports Club, which breeds Olympians (more than 100 to date). It’s held every fall at the base lodge of Howelson Hill, the oldest continuously operating ski hill in North America, home of two year-round Nordic jumps, and the training ground for said Olympians-to-be. Not-so technically, it’s a town rager, albeit without the hangover.Ěý

“Elise, go for the Elans!” a middle-aged dude in a beanie shouts over G-Love and Special Sauce blasting from the outdoor speakers. The racks of skis are all outside, mostly organized by brand, and the place is absolutely mobbed. I’m stalking the Blizzard rack, as I have a pair I’m hoping to sell but I’m afraid they’re priced too high. “Careful—someone tuned the hell out of these,” says another middle-aged man to his daughter near one of the race-ski racks, where wasp-waisted slalom and GS skis with World Cup tunes threaten both fingers and down jackets.

And then I’m hit with the sounds of juxtaposing calls, “These are 10 years old and there’s barely any edge left,” a familiar voice behind me says. “But they’re only $50…” It’s my ex-brother-in-law’s brother-in-law, naturally. I turn around and give him a quick hug. “You want these bindings? I’ll give ’em to you for $25,” he says. We talk about Christmas plans, and then he breaks into a smile at someone behind me. I turn around to see my physical therapist looking for skis for her son, Colin, who’s outgrown everything he owns. Colin ran cross-country with my daughter, who’s a year older than he and, thankfully, she’s mostly done growing.

I walk back inside, past the Nordic jumping skis that look like 10-foot-tall tongue depressors, through the ski boot room with so many kids crouching on the floor it could be a piñata party, and up the stairs to the softgoods. “I told this kid I’d buy him dog food for a year if he let me name his puppy Captain America,” says another recognizable voice at the top. My friend and former coworker’s dad, a shaggy-haired guy in mud boots and a fuzzy flannel, then introduces me to his neighbor.

Past the back protectors, speed suits, full-face helmets, regular helmets, and outerwear, I set my sights on the vintage ski sweater table, where treasure surely awaits. My path to it, however, turns into the kind of beeline that an actual bee would make if she showed up drunk to mating season. I talk to the guy with a handlebar mustache who offered me kind words of encouragement after knee-replacement surgery, to my friend Lynn whose daughter is besties with my daughter, to a couple I met who were also trying to cut through the baseball field to avoid the parking lot mayhem, plus a guy I’ve met a few times but never knew was on the U.S. Ski Team who tells me the new Indian food place is a little hit or miss.Ěý

The serotonin flooding my brain from all this warm fuzziness makes me wonder what it is about this town that makes people nicer. Anonymity doesn’t exist here, which keeps people on their best behavior. There’s also no soul-sucking traffic, which can’t be underestimated as a cause for dickishness. But it’s more than that.Ěý

These veins we share, with skiing coursing through, somehow put us all on the same side, regardless of politics or paychecks. I’m not saying that small rural towns don’t have their issues. They do. Because when everyone is someone, that means you are, too.Ěý

I never make it to the vintage sweater table. I push my way down the stairs and squish back through the soggy field to my car. I am empty-handed, yes. But I know this winter, when I tromp into the T-Bar after a huge powder day, I’ll have even more people to clink beers with, and that’s even better than new (to me) gear.

The post Nothing Brings My Community Together like the Local Ski Swap appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

This article was first published by .

Looking for the best unisex all-mountain skis of 2024? You’ll find those here.

How We Test

Number of all-mountain skis tested: 21
Number of testers:Ěý11
Testing location:ĚýSun Valley, Idaho
Average age of tester:Ěý38
Average height of tester:Ěý5’6”
Average weight of tester:Ěý139 lbs

SKI has been running its annual ski test for decades now, but we’re always tweaking and perfecting the process. As in the past, we invited a crew of seasoned industry professionals—ski instructors, ski shop employees, coaches, and former World Cup racers—to join us for a week-long gear test in , a resort known for its steep and manicured groomers, legendary bump runs, perfectly gladed tree runs, and of course, “the Burn,” sidecountry terrain that powder dreams are made of.

The mission: Jump on every pair of skis entered into our five categories (Carving, Frontside, All-Mountain, All-Mountain Wide, and Powder), put them through their paces all over the mountain, and then fill out a digital scorecard with comments and impressions of how each pair of planks performed across various skill categories—from carving chops and crud performance to stability at speed and responsiveness. We ask our crew of 24 testers to identify a ski’s primary strengths, its weaknesses, who it’s designed for, and what terrain and snow conditions it’s most adept at. At the end of the week, we have enough hard data on the 100-plus pairs of skis tested to make your head spin, and we use it all to bring you these reviews of the best skis of the year.

When judging an all-mountain ski, we primarily assess how versatile it is in terms of the type of terrain and snow conditions it can handle. So in Sun Valley, we put the all-mountain skis through the wringer, testing them on groomers, in the bumps, in glades, and even in Sun Valley’s famous Burn zone, where powder stashes can be found days after the last storm. Lucky for us, we didn’t have to make do with stale powder—it was nuking on the day of our All-Mountain category test. The skis that impressed us the most with their balance of skills on hard snow and in powder, in tight terrain and on wide open groomers, made this list of the best all-mountain skis of the year.

°Â´Çłľ±đ˛Ô’s Skis vs. Unisex Skis

The idea of women’s-specific skis is still a contentious one today. Some brands don’t make anything but unisex skis because they argue that gender doesn’t factor into how a ski performs—only weight, height, strength, and skier ability counts. They therefore only produce unisex skis, but make them in shorter lengths (sometimes down to 162 centimeters or even 158 centimeters) to be more inclusive towards women.

Other brands have invested a lot of time and money into developing truly women’s-specific skis—skis that feature construction modifications from their unisex counterparts to account for a woman’s physique and body mechanics. Finally, some brands appear to offer women’s-specific skis, though often those skis are exactly the same as their unisex counterparts and just feature a different top sheet and women’s-specific model name.

Read more:Ěý

This makes the whole idea of testing “women’s” skis a little complicated. Because many of the skis we’ve covered on our “best women’s skis of the year” lists in the past are, in fact, unisex skis that female testers loved, we decided to change things up this year. This time around, we allowed brands to enter their unisex skis into our women’s categories provided the ski comes in an approachable length for women (in the 170-centimeter range or below), and the brand doesn’t offer a women’s-specific alternative. So some of the skis on this list are unisex skis that our lady testers loved and would not hesitate to recommend to other ladies. If you, like many of our female testers, prefer a longer ski that has some heft to it, don’t be scared off by the “unisex” designation. Rest assured that all the skis on this year’s list (whether unisex or women’s-specific) are tested by women and recommended for women.

How to Use These Ski Reviews

The following skis appear in ranked order, with the ski that tested best at the SKI/şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř 2024 gear test in Sun Valley, Idaho listed at the top. In each review, we list the ski’s overall score, a product of how eight female testers scored the ski across nine different skills categories: Hard-Snow Integrity; Stability at Speed; Responsiveness; Quickness; Forgiveness; Carving; Flotation; Crud Performance; and Versatility. SKI’s scoring system exists to determine and call attention to the skis that most impressed our testers, a crew of ski industry professionals and advanced and expert skiers from across the country.

We believe the sticks listed here set the benchmark for what an all-mountain ski is designed to do. That said, remember that ski testing (and skiing) is somewhat subjective. While we’re big fans of the category-winning , it may not be the best choice for every skier. So don’t just look at a ski’s score—read our testers’ feedback to understand the nuances of each ski and who it’s best suited to. Otherwise, you might wind up with a great ski, just not the right ski for you.

Meet the Testers

Age: 47 | Height: 5′4″ | Weight: 112 lbs

Kimberly Beekman has been testing skis and writing gear reviews for longer than she’d like to admit. She’s a former editor of SKI and freelance contributor to both SKI and şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř. She lives in Steamboat Springs with her wonderful daughter and terrible cat.

Avery Pesce

Age: 40 | Height: 5′6″ | Weight: 138 lbs

Pesce lives in Whitman, Mass., and calls the ski areas of Vermont and New Hampshire home. She’s an expert skier with an aggressive style that she applies to any and all type of terrain and snow conditions. As the head ski buyer for Boston Ski & Tennis in Newton, Mass., she knows a thing or two about skis—how they’re built, how they perform, and who they’re best suited to.

Age: 35 | Height: 5′5″ | Weight: 140 lbs

Wiegand is SKI’s gear test director and associate gear director for şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř. She grew up in Garmisch, Germany and cut her teeth on the World Cup slopes of the Hausberg. She started out as a competitive figure skater before realizing skiing was more fun. She ski raced in high school and college, then promptly got herself a job in the ski industry, first as a ski instructor at Crested Butte, Colo., then as an editor at SKI.

The Reviews: The Best °Â´Çłľ±đ˛Ô’s All-Mountain Skis of the Year

Editor’s Choice: Blizzard Sheeva 9 ($750)

Overall score: 8.47/10
Lengths (cm): 150, 156, 162, 168, 174
Dimensions (mm): 129-96-118.5
Radius (m): 14 (162)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,765 (162)
Pros: Versatility, Quickness
Cons: Flotation, Stability at Speed

Last year, the Blizzard Sheeva 9 won best in test. This year, it repeats the feat, but while boasting a complete redesign that hones its strengths and eliminates its weaknesses—“favorite ski of the day” was our testers’ refrain. The new iteration is 4 millimeters wider underfoot and has a longer effective edge to both float in powder and carve on groomers. It also boasts Blizzard’s Freeride TrueBlend Woodcore, which consists of denser wood where a stiffer flex is desirable, and softer wood in the tips and tails lends forgiveness and ease of turn initiation. A new fiberglass plate underfoot replaces the metal one, allowing the ski to go from tight slalom corkscrews to long, fast downhill turns just by thinking about it. The Sheeva 9 is quick and playful, and testers agreed that it’s the most versatile within the °Â´Çłľ±đ˛Ô’s All-Mountain category in terms of both ability levels and terrain. “Amazing all over the mountain,” said Avery Pesce, a Sugarbush and Jay Peak, Vermont, skier.

Read the full review for category scores, strengths, weaknesses, and tester feedback.

Overall score: 8.05/10
Lengths (cm): 159, 166, 173, 180, 187
Dimensions (mm): 128-96-119
Radius (m): 17 (173)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,850 (173)
Pros: Versatility, Responsiveness
Cons: Crud Performance, Flotation

It used to be that our testers found the Fischer Rangers polarizing—until the brand debuted its revamped line last year. For 2023-24, the positive consensus was even more resounding, and the unisex Ranger 96 floated to No. 2 overall for °Â´Çłľ±đ˛Ô’s All-Mountain skis. Testers lauded its versatility for both ability level and terrain. “I recommend this ski for almost everyone,” said Lily Krass, an expert skier from Jackson, Wyoming. Our crew found this ski responsive, playful, dependable, and easy—a fun ride that they didn’t have to work too hard to figure out. It had just enough heft to be reassuring when the powder turned to chunder, plus a sheet of metal and a flat tail gave it edge grip and a strong turn finish on the groomers. A few worried it might be too forgiving, making stronger or heavier skiers feel like they’re going over the handlebars—surprising, considering the unisex construction—but overall the Ranger 96 is “an incredible all-mountain ski that zips through bumps, lays an edge, and feels easy to initiate,” said Krass.

Overall score: 7.96/10
Lengths (cm): 149, 156, 163, 170, 177
Dimensions (mm): 135-96-113
Radius (m): 24-14-20 (163)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,723 (156)
Pros: Carving, Flotation
Cons: Crud Performance, Playfulness

The Völkl Secret 96 is a study in contradictions: carvy and surfy, stable and playful, damp and lively, quick and strong. “The versatility is great,” said Tracy Gibbons, a former U.S. Ski Teamer. “Lay it up on edge, take it in the trees, take it wherever.” But the true test of an all-arounder, according to our ex-racer set, is a firm, steep groomer—and this is where the Secret 96 shone, earning category-topping scores for Carving and Stability at Speed. That bulldog grip might be due to all that Titanal along the edges and underfoot, which damps vibration and gives the ski a stuck-to-the-snow feel. Generously rockered tips hooked up beautifully with the nudge of an ankle, and the rockered tail released gracefully out of the turn. While the Secret 96 is perhaps best for experts who will properly appreciate its strengths—a couple of testers mentioned it could feel burly to beginners—advanced skiers on up will benefit from its confidence-inspiring versatility. “It’s perfect for the ex-racer gal who wants not just her frontside performance, but also the width she needs for the crud and sidecountry,” claimed Pesce.

Overall score: 7.74/10
Lengths (cm): 159, 165, 171
Dimensions (mm): 132-99-121
Radius (m): 16 (165)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,750 (165)
Pros: Responsiveness, Hard-Snow Integrity
Cons: Playfulness, Crud Performance

Last year, testers found the MSP CC to be the perfect machine for pinning the throttle on fall-line steeps, but not necessarily for easy Sunday cruising. This year, 4FRNT revamped its women’s best-seller to be every bit as powerful as before, but with a little added forgiveness and ease. “It read my mind and won my heart,” said SKI executive editor Samantha Berman. The major update is a new maple-and-aspen core (replacing poplar), which gives a more responsive (read: fun) ride. Testers found this ski initiated turns instantly and effortlessly, while a Titanal laminate damped vibration and gave it stability at speed. It was so confident in any kind of terrain and conditions that testers hardly noticed what was under their feet. The MSP CC is on the °Â´Çłľ±đ˛Ô’s All-Mountain category’s wide side, which makes it best for soft snow, but its scores in Hard-Snow Integrity and Carving were very respectable. “This ski gets more fun the faster you go,” said Taos, New Mexico-based tester Erika Northrop.

Overall score: 7.72/10
Lengths (cm): 146, 154, 162, 170, 178
Dimensions (mm): 136-94-110
Radius (m): 15 (162)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,590 (170)
Pros: Quickness, Hard-Snow Integrity
Cons: Playfulness, Crud Performance

The Ripstick 94 W Black Edition is all knives out, slicing, dicing, and dissecting hardpack like a ski half its size. With a No. 2 score in Hard-Snow Integrity and a No. 3 in Carving across the °Â´Çłľ±đ˛Ô’s All-Mountain skis we tested, it’s a great choice for ex-racers who are unwilling to sacrifice good old-fashioned cambered edge grip.Ěý“This is a ski for those who still care about edge performance and precision even in this category,” said Jenny Wiegand, şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř’s associate gear director. The downside, some felt, is that it’s a little too directional to be playful. Elan’s mad scientists designed the Ripstick 94 W Black Edition to have a dedicated left and right ski, cambered on the inside edge and rockered on the outside, and put carbon tubes in the core to increase stability without adding weight. But what all those bells and whistles boil down to is a solid ski you can trust in any conditions. “It outperformed most of the skis in the category,” said Michelle Nicholson, a tester from Jackson, Wyoming. “It’s a total standout. I was blown away.”

No. 6: Peak 98 by Bode ($1,090)

Overall score: 7.41/10
Lengths (cm): 160, 168, 178, 184, 190
Dimensions (mm): 126-98-114
Radius (m): 22.3 (168)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,918 (178)
Pros: Carving, Stability at Speed
Cons: Versatility, Playfulness

If you’ve ever wanted to know what it feels like to be Bode Miller, buckle your boots down tight and click into his new ski, the Peak 98. Like a racehorse that smells the track, this unisex ski wants to move. And the faster you go, the more it goads you. It champs the bit at slow speeds and feels a little burly for bumps, but for those who want to trench going mach ˛őł¦łó˛ÔĂ©±ô±ô, this is the ski for you. The Peak’s revolutionary design comes straight from Miller’s 2004 World Cup GS title, which he won on a ski that had a small keyhole cut out of the metal laminate in front of the binding. The cutaway gave the forebody a more forgiving flex, allowing him to turn while still in a tuck without sacrificing underfoot edge grip. The Peak 98 may not be for everyone, but it’s “definitely a winner for the ex-racer or hard charger who likes to carve,” stated Gibbons.

No. 7: Dynastar E-Pro 99 ($900)

Overall score: 7.13/10
Lengths (cm): 154, 162, 170, 178
Dimensions (mm): 125-97-116
Radius (m): 15 (162)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,700 (162)
Pros: Versatility, Playfulness
Cons: Hard-Snow Integrity, Stability at Speed

Testers were of two minds on the Dynastar E-Pro 99. “Easygoing ski,” offered Nicholson. “Not for the timid,” countered Pesce. Technically unisex in everything but name and graphic, this ski is energetic and poppy, carving as if on a metronome—as long as you know how to find its edges. Its core is made of poplar and, curiously, polyurethane (the same damping material in many sidewalls), with a metal laminate that tapers in the tip and tail for ease of turn initiation. It’s supremely versatile in all conditions, happily bounding down the fall line in any turn shape and in every sort of terrain, though, as a wider offering in the °Â´Çłľ±đ˛Ô’s All-Mountain category, its natural habitat is softer snow. That said, the Dynastar E-Pro 99 prefers to be driven, not ridden, so it’s best suited for the expert set. “An unsung hero of the all-mountain category,” claimed Pesce, who works as a hardgoods buyer.

No. 8: Line Pandora 94 ($650)

Overall score: 7.05/10
Lengths (cm): 151, 158, 165, 172
Dimensions (mm): 131-84-117
Radius (m): 14.5 (165)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,491 (165)
Pros: Versatility, Quickness
Cons: Flotation, Stability at Speed

There are skis that take skiing seriously—and then there’s the Line Pandora 94. In short, this ski likes to party. Described as “nimble” and “energetic,” it reminded our testers why they started skiing to begin with: “Easy fun!” exclaimed Northrop. Made with lightweight aspen and carbon, and bereft of dance-move-damping metal, it’s playful and eager to please. The Pandora 94 is quick underfoot, diving through tight trees and bumps, and forgiving enough to throw sideways when you need to scrub speed. It’s a bit too lightweight and soft to drive hard on firm groomers, and it’s not quite wide enough to float through the deep, but it’s an absolute blast everywhere else. Testers proclaimed this model perfect for intermediates looking to improve and experts who just wanna have fun. “This ski’s for anyone who’s as happy making turns as she is having an early après,” Northrop said. Our kind of ski indeed.

No. 9: Rossignol Rallybird 92 ($650)

Overall score: 7.04/10
Lengths (cm): 154, 162, 170
Dimensions (mm): 127-92-117
Radius (m): 14 (162)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,600 (162)
Pros: Responsiveness, Forgiveness
Cons: Flotation, Crud Performance

This proud French brand is doing for women’s skis what Julia Child did for its motherland’s dishes: making them smooth, buttery, and approachable. The Rallybird 92 is case in point. Initially intimidated by its dice-ready waist width, testers found it to be surprisingly soft and forgiving, capable of coaxing lesser experts from skid to carve. “This felt like an easy-skiing option for intermediates—and maybe even beginners—to grow with,” said Berman. Rossi’s winning recipe is a lightweight paulownia wood core with a carbon-fiber-weave laminate that loads this model with energy and pop to zip through bumps and tight trees. Testers did complain that it’s not wide enough for fluff (it scored dead last in Flotation) or grippy enough for ice, but for all-mountain cruisers who like to venture off-trail from time to time, it’s an energetic yet chill ride. “It’s playful and has good rebound energy,” Berman added.

No. 10: Nordica Santa Ana 98 ($750)

Overall score: 7/10
Lengths (cm): 151, 158, 165, 172, 179
Dimensions (mm): 131-98-118
Radius (m): 15 (165)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,745 (165)
Pros: Crud Performance, Stability at Speed
Cons: Playfulness, Versatility

When Nordica’s first Santa Ana 98 came out, in 2016, it led the charge in the revolution against wimpy women’s models. While it’s no longer at the top of our rankings, it should be credited as the inspiration for many of those that are. Redesigned in 2022-23 to be a bit friendlier (which caused a few testers to note that it felt as if it had lost its tail), the Santa Ana 98 is still a beast at heart: full-wood core, sandwich construction, and a damping sheet of metal. Accordingly, testers found it crushed crud (where it earned an impressive No. 2 in the category) and craved speed—but it’s too much of a blunt-force instrument to be operated with finesse. It’s not playful or forgiving, but it is solid. “A versatile all-arounder, but definitely more work in bumps, trees, and tight terrain,” claimed Wiegand.

No. 11: Salomon QST Lumen 98 ($600)

Overall score: 6.99/10
Lengths (cm): 152, 160, 168, 176
Dimensions (mm): 131-98-119
Radius (m): 15 (168)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,740 (168)
Pros: Quickness, Responsiveness
Cons: Stability at Speed, Carving

The Salomon QST Lumen 98 is the champagne of the °Â´Çłľ±đ˛Ô’s All-Mountain test: light, effervescent, and easy. While its happy-go-lucky nature won the hearts of some, it left others wanting something stronger and with more bite. “Little Bunny Foo Foo, hopping through the forest,” joked Northrop, the New Mexico area manager for Christy Sports. Indeed, a few testers complained that the QST Lumen 98 got nervous at speed and deflected off hardpack, but most agreed that as long as you’re in soft snow, it’s a quick, nimble, playful, comfortable, and forgiving ride that won’t tax your quads. Boasting the same poplar core with carbon fiber and flax laminates as the unisex QST line, the Lumen 98’s secret sauce is cork in the tip and tail that damps vibration without adding swing weight. “Fun for a gal looking to expand her horizons off-piste,” said Gibbons, who calls Crystal Mountain, Washington, her home terrain.

No. 12: Armada Reliance 92 Ti ($850)

Overall score: 6.82/10
Lengths (cm): 156, 164, 172, 180
Dimensions (mm): 130-92-116
Radius (m): 16.5 (164)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,625 (164)
Pros: Hard-Snow Integrity, Responsiveness
Cons: Forgiveness, Flotation

Armada, formerly a freestyle-oriented park-and-pow brand, has slowly but surely established itself as a serious contender in the all-mountain market—and for good reason. The Reliance 92 Ti has been a tester favorite since it came on the scene in 2021, earning high marks for its tenacious edge grip and power. A rockered tip initiates easily and a fully cambered tail doesn’t release from the turn until it’s good and done, while a caruba wood core reinforced with Titanal responds instantly to skier input. The downsides, testers noted, are that it can feel unwieldy in bumps, it’s a little too serious to be playful, and it’s too narrow to be versatile when the low-pressure front moves in. It’s also best driven by experts who don’t mind firing a muscle or two. “It surprised me how tiring it felt to ski the Reliance 92 Ti,” said şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř associate gear editor Kelly Klein. All in all, though, it’s a “bomber all-mountain ski,” said Nicholson, who’s a patroller for Wyoming’s Jackson Hole.

No. 13: Stöckli Nela 96 ($1,149)

Overall score: 6.77/10
Lengths (cm): 156, 164, 172
Dimensions (mm): 134-96-121
Radius (m): 15.8 (164)
Weight (per ski in grams): 1,650 (164)
Pros: Stability at Speed, Carving
Cons: Versatility, Playfulness

Stöckli is renowned for its unparalleled quality and buttery smooth feel—it’s a Swiss brand, after all—and it has the price tag to match. The Nela 96 boasts all of that, earning No. 1 scores in Stability at Speed, Carving, and, shockingly, Flotation. It’s the brand’s widest women’s offering, and, with rockered tips and tails, it offers terrain versatility that’s uncharacteristic of this brand. (Many of Stöckli’s thoroughbreds are one-trick ponies that, to be fair, do that one trick really, really well.) But when it comes to versatility for ability level, the Nela continues to turn up its nose at lesser-skilled skiers. “Too much ski for smaller women or those who can’t put enough strength into steering,” said Berman, who skis mostly in Colorado’s Front Range. But for experts who eat their spinach, it’s “super dependable and responsive,” said Pesce. “A blast to ski on anywhere on the mountain.”

Frequently Asked Questions

What are the best all-mountain skis for women?

1. Blizzard Sheeva 9
6. Peak 98 by Bode
7. Dynastar E-Pro 99
8. Line Pandora 94
9. Rossignol Rallybird 92
10. Nordica Santa Ana 98
11. Salomon QST Lumen 98
12. Armada Reliance 92 Ti
13. Stöckli Nela 96

What is an all-mountain ski ?

From groomed runs to moguls to the steep-and-deep freeride terrain, all-mountain skis are designed to take on the entire mountain. They usually feature a waist between 85-100mm and are sold without bindings. The majority of all-mountain skis that our testers prefer feature wood cores and two sheets of metal—but there are exceptions that include no metal at all in favor of keeping the ski light and more playful. It’s hard to beat the versatility of an all-mountain ski, though these skis can be too wide for those who spend the majority of their time on groomers, and too narrow for those who ski mountains blessed with regular and bountiful snowfall. Read more:Ěý

What’s the difference between men’s and women’s skis?

In truth, most skis are unisex and not gender-specific. Many brands produce the ski with the exact same construction technologies for both genders, but often create two different top sheets to appeal to men vs. women. A handful of brands are making truly women’s-specific skis, where the ski takes a woman’s physique into account when building the ski. Men and women can ski on the same ski but may want to choose different lengths depending on their height and their skiing ability.

What’s the difference between the All-Mountain and Frontside ski category?

Truth is, the line can be blurry between these two ski categories since ski manufacturers started throwing everything they have at producing well-rounded and versatile skis in both. As a result, you can now find narrow all-mountain skis that also rail on groomers and frontside skis that can hold their own in crud. That said, there are still some key differences between frontside and all-mountain skis, the biggest being that frontside skis are primarily designed for on-trail performance, while all-mountain skis (even the narrower ones) are engineered to tackle conditions and terrain off the groomers.Ěý.

How long do skis last?

With proper care and regularly performed tuning by a professional ski tech, skis can last for 200-300 days on snow depending on the size and aggressiveness of the skier. Larger skiers and people who are harder on their equipment will not get as many days on snow before the wood core, edges, or other aspects of the ski become compromised. Bindings should be tested by a professional ski tech every season, and replaced when they do not meet standardized norms.

The post The Best °Â´Çłľ±đ˛Ô’s All-Mountain Skis of 2024 appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

This article was first published by .

At a Glance

• Brand: Blizzard
• Model: Sheeva 9
• Overall Ranking: #1
• Overall Score: 8.37/10
• Strengths: Versatility, Quickness
• Weaknesses: Flotation, Stability at Speed
• Gender: °Â´Çłľ±đ˛Ô’s
• Level: Advanced, Expert

Specs

• Tip/Waist/Tail (mm): 129-96-118.5
• Lengths (cm): 150, 156, 162, 168, 174
• Radius (m): 14 (162 cm)
• Waist Width (mm): 96
• Weight (per ski in grams): 1,765 (162)

Test Scores

• Stability at Speed: 7.56/10
• Quickness/Maneuverability: 9/10
• Playfulness: 8.67/10
• Forgiveness: 7.56/10
• Hard Snow Performance: 9/10
• Crud Performance: 8.67/10
• Versatility: 8.78/10
• Responsiveness: 9/10
• Carving: 7.56/10

Last year, the Sheeva 9 won best in test for the °Â´Çłľ±đ˛Ô’s All-Mountain category. This year, it repeats the feat, but that hones its strengths and eliminates its weaknesses. “Favorite ski of the day” was the testers’ refrain.

Forgive us for being anticlimactic, but we’re not in the least bit surprised. The brand has spent three of the six years the Sheevas have been in production obsessed with engineering the perfect refinements, as that line—the sexy all-mountain freeride and powder category—has quickly become Blizzard’s flagship, eclipsing in importance even the Black Pearl 88, which was the industry’s best-selling ski across all categories and genders for nearly a decade. And, judging by our testers’ gushing comments, all that legwork paid off.

To improve the Sheeva 9, Blizzard may have taken a few of the best attributes of the trench-ready, fall-line-loving, but sometimes punishing Black Pearl 97 and infused them—along with some new tech—into this freeride-y, forgiving model. The result is a versatile all-rounder that’s smoother and easier, but also so grippy on edge that it impressed even the East Coasters: “Amazing all over the mountain. Easily best in test for the category,” said Avery Pesce, a Sugarbush and Jay Peak, Vermont, skier. “I would grab it each and every day here in New England, regardless of the conditions or terrain.”

The first major changes in the Sheeva 9 are that it’s significantly wider, bumping up from a 92-millimeter waist to a 96, and that its snow-contact point (where the rocker starts) is extended on both the tip and tail. The new width and profile are key to making it more of an all-mountain, all-condition tool: The wider platform floats better in powder, and the longer effective edge grips and carves better on groomers. Blizzard also increased the height of the rocker so as not to compromise the ski’s surfability, and gave it a slightly tighter turn radius, but, because of the longer edge, the new radius isn’t all that noticeable.

Related:

This year’s Sheeva line also (finally) boasts the brand’s Freeride Trueblend Woodcore, which consists of three different densities of wood and is similar to the construction of the extremely successful women’s Black Pearl and the men’s Bonafide and Brahma lines. Blizzard inlays the harder wood in strips underfoot and on the edges, where a stiffer flex is desirable, and the softer wood in the tips and tails for forgiveness and ease of turn initiation. This also corrects an age-old problem with flex patterns changing according to the length of the ski; they can now make every size feel more or less the same in terms of stiffness and rebound.

Another important update is that the Sheeva 9 gets a fiberglass plate underfoot instead of the previous metal one, which allows it to bend and flex without any hinge points. This might be partly responsible for the tester feedback that this ski can go from tight slalom corkscrew to long, fast downhill turns just by thinking about it. It’s quick and playful, and testers also noted that it’s the most versatile for both terrain and ability levels.

“When I got off this ski, I felt like an inspiring friend had just coaxed me into stepping out of my comfort zone, and I could not thank her enough for how jazzed and invigorated I felt,” said Erika Northrop, a 5-foot-9 Taos Ski Valley, New Mexico, local. With a nice rebound energy, the Sheeva 9 gives you back what you put into it.

See how the Blizzard Sheeva 9 compares to our other favorite all-mountain skis of the year.

The post Review: 2024 Blizzard Sheeva 9 appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

Moving to the mountains is what we skiers dream about. Skinning out the back door before work, being first in line on a powder Tuesday, raising children who will know how to operate a snow machine. This was what I have wanted since before I can remember.

Then, just as my 14-year-old daughter, Cate, was finishing middle school in Denver, my best friend’s house in downtown Steamboat Springs, Colorado., came up for rent.

We drove up to see it one late-summer day. We ignored the heavy odors of weed smoke and dog-pee and decided on the spot that we could cram ourselves, four bikes, 12 pairs of skis, all of our gear, and our indoor/outdoor tomcat into an 884-square-foot cabin built in 1909 with floors so uneven, it felt like walking on a houseboat. “It has good bones,” I said. “Perfect location,” Cate said.

That one swift decision kicked off countless painstaking ones: We had one month to offload 16 years’ worth of stuff from the only home Cate had ever known. Every cupboard, drawer, and closet I went through was like an exorcism of shame. The barware alone was alarming—did I really ever think I would need 12 martini glasses, now coated in grimy dust? There were eight settings of blue and gold china I put on my wedding registry; each cost $80 and had been used for two Christmases, only one of which was while I was still married. There were four sets of my mother’s cast-off placemats and napkin rings (who uses napkin rings?), plus table runners, candlestick holders, a tortilla warmer, and a big bowl with a coyote painted on it. There were silver trays and salt and pepper shakers from my stepdad’s mother’s estate, and a closet full of books and journals from my brother’s.Ěý

But it was the Cuisinart food processor, never used, that turned me inside out. How was my vision of what I thought my life would be so far from how it actually turned out? That night, I dreamed of being caught in a landslide while driving, unable to brake or steer or open the car door.

Then came the Craigslist transactions and potential tenant tours. Every one made me sad. I knew I was anthropomorphizing and that was irrational, but I worried about how our things would feel, cared for by new people. Would the china we sold be handwashed and neatly stacked? Would the peonies under Cate’s window get snipped and put in a glass vase each spring?Ěý

But time kept moving, so I continued to let go. Finally, with our pared-down belongings packed in boxes and suitcases and plastic bins, we loaded up the U-Haul. At the last minute, with only a couple of feet left in the truck, I crammed in my outdoor potted plants that I had intended to leave behind. Our new rental had no patio, no yard, no place to put such things. But I couldn’t stand the thought of a life without flowers.

As we unpacked, I spent hundreds of dollars on Amazon for organizers and baskets that hang on doors and go on shelves. The stuff that would not fit—cleaning supplies, spare sheets, towels, vitamins, socks, and swimsuits—I shoved in boxes under our beds. I stashed rolls of spare toilet paper in the hutch under the TV, and cough medicine, batteries, lightbulbs, and tools in bins on the floor of my closet. We borrowed a trailer to house our skis and bikes out back. I wedged 2x4s under half the legs of our furniture to keep it from falling over. I rigged up a portable ski-tuning station in the hallway by Cate’s room and a clothes-drying rack over the heat vent in my office.Ěý

Then, quickly for Cate, slowly for me, we met some people. They kindly responded to my desperate group texts (“I’m Cate’s mom. Does anyone want to have a glass of wine with me?”). They taught us that the bears know how to open the trunk of a Subaru, and the guy who works weeknights at the local drive through gives extra chicken strips. They invited us to high school football games and commiserated about the long lines at the post office. They made us feel like we belong.

Today, I am writing this while still in my long underwear after an afternoon on the hill with Cate and some new friends. We got 11 inches of early season snow last night that stacked up in big, fluffy drifts. We rode up Storm Peak and skied down in a whiteout with snow blowing sideways, uphill, and directly through the zippers of our jackets. And the snow is still falling in fat clumps out my window.

We miss our house. We miss some of our things. But moving has forced me to reevaluate just what, exactly, is valuable. It isn’t wedding china at all.

Now, I like to imagine my Cuisinart’s new life. Cate probably wouldn’t remember growing up with fresh salsa or homemade gazpacho; she doesn’t even like those things. But I know what she will remember—skipping school to ski powder, sometimes with me. And as for those martini glasses, I did hang on to two of them, which is at least one more than I really need.

The post We Left the City for a Tiny Cabin in a Ski Town. We Don’t Regret a Thing. appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

I hate shopping at outdoor gear stores. This seems odd, considering that I’m an outdoorsy person who loves gear and reviews it for a living. But from the moment I walk in, I’m conscious of how I appear at face value: a diminutive middle-aged mom searching through my fanny pack for the reading glasses that are already on top of my head. I might as well carry a sign that says “Sell me lame gear in the value category” or “Please explain how ski bindings work.”Ěý

Take my recent mountain bike shopping experience. As I stumbled through what felt like an interview about my legitimacy, I admitted to the shop-floor dude that I did not know how much travel I wanted in the front or back shock or what kind of componentry I wanted. (I am an avid rider, but I have always bought friends’ hand-me-downs, which means the only thing I know about bikes is that I love to ride them.) “Have you thought about buying a gravel bike?” he said, perceptibly flexing his tattoos.Ěý

“I’ve been mountain biking for longer than you’ve been alive!” I wanted to yell in my own lame defense at his flat-brimmed hat. But I didn’t, because that would be embarrassing, and the hot tears that would likely start running down my face would warrant a call to my therapist. (And I work really hard to make her think I don’t have any issues.)Ěý

So, after some satisfyingly snarky inner dialogue—“You don’t even think your mustache is ironic, which is so ironic!”—I retreated to the safety of my living room with my tail tucked into my chamois to search for help. That’s how I found . It’s a new online gear-finding service that connects you with an expert in whatever sport you’re into. They guide you through the process and give you a few recommendations, most of which are discounted. If you buy from their list, the expert gets a commission on the sale.Ěý

Curated quietly launched in 2017 after Eduardo Vivas went on a snowboarding trip to Vail and discovered that all the high-end gear he bought was wrong for a beginner. Vivas and his cofounders—LinkedIn and Facebook veterans—thought that by focusing on connections with real experts rather than on the shiny new toys, they could better serve consumers (though selling the gear is certainly still the goal). Because the program prioritizes matching you to experts in your area, there’s a lot of common ground to spark conversation. “Our experts will even go skiing or golfing with our customers,” says Matt Jay, Curated’s head of business development.Ěý

According to Jay, in the past year Curated has doubled the number of winter gear experts, from roughly 500 to 1,000, to accommodate growing demand. Another indicator of success: the company’s return rate is less than 2 percent. Clearly, Curated’s model is working. Half of the experts’ salaries come from tips—a huge motivator for them to get it right the first time. “The experts are beholden to the consumer,” Jay says.

I was skeptical of the model, so before I used Curated to help me choose a bike, I wanted to test the service by searching for gear I actually know something about to see how Curated’s recommendations stack up. I’ve been a ski writer and tester for roughly 20 years, so I clicked “browse skis.”

I was paired with Jake, a 20-some-year-old freestyle ski coach in Aspen. From the very first words that popped into my chat window, I could feel his stoke for the sport. He asked me how long I’ve been skiing and then proceeded to assess my abilities in a nonjudgmental way. And because of the relative anonymity of the platform, I could be honest without feeling like a fraud—a phenomenon born from insidious girl code that causes women to consistently downplay our abilities.Ěý

“I’m a high-expert,” I said frankly.Ěý

“Hell, yeah!” Jake responded.Ěý

Suddenly, even though I had just spent my Saturday folding soccer clothes and vacuuming smashed Goldfish from the floor mats of my Subaru, I felt like I was being taken seriously.

Jake had the answers to all my questions (it was a test—I already knew the answers myself): which models have metal in them, which skis are female-specific below the topsheet, what the turn radius is in each size. He also gave me an educated evaluation of what the longer and shorter lengths will feel like in Colorado’s terrain. When he recommended one particular women’s model, I commented that the name is better suited for a feminine hygiene product. He laughed.

At the end of our chat, Jake sent over his final recommendations. I clicked on the link to find the two exact models I currently have in my basement. Coincidence? I think not. If only dating apps were so successful.Ěý

Now it was time to move on to the harder stuff: mountain bikes. Griffin was my guy in this department. He was an 18-year-old racer and mechanic who was taking a year off college to ride and hang out in Maui. I told him that all I know about mountain bikes is that I like to ride them, that I wanted something that can handle both long distances and chunky tech, and that I was curious about upgrading to a 29er but unsure about how one would perform for someone who bears a strong resemblance to a Keebler elf.Ěý

Thanks again to that online anonymity, I also felt comfortable spilling my guts about my last bike shop experience. (And unfortunately for him, comfortable enough to dole out unwanted advice that he should go back to college someday.) When Griffin responded, I wanted to give him my $30 therapy copay: “It’s the worst to be underestimated and stupidly mansplained by shop dudes,” he said. Yes, dearest Griffin, it sure is.

Then we got into the local bike scene in Colorado. We had a good laugh about all the bros in Pit Vipers here (“If you buy a Yeti, I’m sure you would make plenty of friends on the trails hahaha”). Ultimately, Griffin suggested two solid choices: a 27.5 that rides like a 29er, and a 29er that’s maneuverable for elves. He was respectful, honest, and didn’t mansplain a damn thing. Thanks, Griffin.

Next, to fully see what Curated was capable of, I devised one final test: seeking equipment for a sport I’m a total newb at. I chose golf, which I am not convinced is actually a sport at all. (I made a mental note not to ask that question, because that’s just rude.) I was matched with Ryan, who first informed me that he was a real human. In the era of help chats populated by bots that funnel you into maddeningly unhelpful FAQs, this was reassuring indeed.Ěý

I immediately confessed that I had zero idea what I was doing and that I couldn’t fake my way past the drink cart if I tried. Ryan suggested a full set of clubs rather than piecemealing them like real golfers do. He was honest about which ones were the best deals and which ones seemed like a good deal but that I’d soon outgrow. He came up with two options for me. Afterward, my own internet research revealed that the clubs he picked were not the typical “newbie” clubs painted pink for women. Rather, they were thoughtfully selected with quality and learning curve in mind.Ěý

And Ryan assured me there was plenty of room in the bag for beer, which is, of course, the real reason I would ever venture onto a green. He also gave me a few tips (“Don’t swing hard! It’s all about ball contact!”) and indulged my cringey questions (“What is a hybrid club?” “Do the shoes really matter?”). He then followed up a couple hours later with a deal that included free balls and a discount code he found somewhere. “I’m not 100 percent sure the code works, but try it and see! Just trying to get you the best deal.” So nice!

So, dear gear-shop bros, I am happy to say I will never subject myself to your withering gaze ever again. Unless it’s to politely ask you to fix the gear that I’ve broken doing things some middle-aged moms who can no longer read their phones do (with their readers safely stowed in their packs, of course).Ěý

And to all the Curated people who helped me, thank you. I’m sorry I haven’t actually purchased anything yet. Don’t worry—I’ll be back.

The post Curated Wants to Change How We Shop for Gear appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

Like blue-jeans fashion, ski design is always evolving. The most notable adaptations have made not sucking at this sport so much easier. In 1949, Head introduced the continuous metal edge. In 1995, Atomic released the Powder Plus, one of the first fatĚýskis, with a waist widthĚýof 95 millimetersĚýunderfoot. In 1990, ElanĚýtrademarked the term parabolicĚýwith theĚýnew SideCut eXtreme, or SCX. ThenĚý2001 saw the advent of rocker with the Volant Spatula. But when it comes to the most recent trend in all-mountain skis, I have some doubts.

Designers in R&D labs around the world are putting perfect skis on the operating table to strip out precious pounds in order to join the marketing war over who makes the lightest boards. They drill outĚýhoneycomb patterns in the tips and tails and inject twinkie-like foam filling between wood stringers. They layerĚýĚýthat are measured in atoms instead of grams and areĚýsurelyĚýbetter suited to interstellar travel. They insert hollow carbon tubes that will someday wash up on the beach like all those plastic tampon applicators. Then they put their nipped and tucked creations into a ski-flexing machine, take down the numbers, and nod at the marvel of their lightweight strength. But is the lightest ski possible really the best thing for most of us?

Now, I’m not some kind of Luddite who yearns for the days of my brother’s hand-me-down 200-centimeter K2 KVC Comps (though they were so cool). I’m all about progress. Case in point: I just bought a new $6,000 carbon mountain bike in the hope that it will help me climb all the frustratingĚýtechnical steeps on the ColoradoĚýFront Range.ĚýAnd in my 20-some years of testing skis for magazines, I can happily corroborateĚýthat the shaving of some swing weight has, in fact, eased my quad burn at the end of the day.Ěý

But there comes a point when a trend goes too far, like when my 13-year-old daughter came home from the mall wearing mom jeans. Yes, reducing a ski’s weight can make turning aĚýbit easier and less tiring, which was the original impetus behind this whole trend. But do you know what is really tiring? Getting bucked around in push piles all day because the feathers on your feet are afraid of snow. Have manufacturers forgotten that skiing downhill is a gravity sport?Ěý

After three days of testing with şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř at Colorado’s Steamboat Mountain Resort last winter, I came away feeling like many all-mountain, resort-oriented models in the new 2020–21 crop—the modelsĚýhitting the market this year—were simply missing their meat. As we put skis through their paces, the conditions went from heavy pow to heaps of slop to frozen ocean, each of which a disconcerting number of skis seemed to shudder on. At the end of each run, we take notes on the ones we just tried out, and my comments on these skis’ cards read like this: “Perhaps it prefers fly-fishing?” “Perfect Christmas gift for a Keebler elf.” In the space devoted toĚýwriting down what conditions each of theĚýskis would be best suited for, I noted skinning uphill as an ATĚýsetup, where of course lightness makes perfect sense.Ěý

Indeed, the uphill trend is partially responsible for the emaciation of all-mountain skis. Most consumers have to prioritize sending their kids to college over collecting a garage full of gear. SoĚýmanufacturers are nobly trying to build one ski that can do it all. But no matter how badly my bank account wishes it were so, a ski that is light enough for mortals like me to haul up high-alpine peaks just doesn’t cut it on lift-served crud. A ski simply needs a bit of heft to stay its course. Have you seen ski-mountaineering racers with their magic slippers and featherweight toothpicks try to downhill? It’s like watching toddlers who just learned how to walk run down a cobblestone street whileĚýwearing Crocs.Ěý

If you’reĚýstarting outĚýand are drawn toĚýlightweight skis for their ability to turn (rather thanĚýtheir uphill versatility), I understand the temptation. But those skis won’t make you better faster. Trying to push yourself and gain confidence in variable snow is hard and scary. Your skis should be there to support you, not turn into a chattery mess the minute you venture off the corduroy.

I know, my priorities may not be in order. I have a garage full of skis for different conditionsĚýand high hopes that I’ll be payingĚýin-state tuition when my daughter goes to college.ĚýBut I’m sticking to my guns on this point: just as the skis made for alpine touring should be light enough to avoid permanent damage to your hip flexors, skis marketed for all-mountain resort skiing should be heavy enough to stay on the snow.Ěý

There are some models that successfully cross over from resort to backcountry. (And truth be told, much of the loss of skiability on an all-terrainĚýsetup owes to the boots and bindings.) But there’s a feeling you get on hearty skis—that of biting into the snow and plowing through chunder—that those lightweights just can’t deliver. It’s the closest I’ve felt to having a superpower.Ěý

Why shy away from that? We are skiers, after all.ĚýWe understand effort. We don’t mind firing a muscle or two. We forego beach vacations for ski passes, set ungodly alarm times, pull warm children from their covers, fight traffic for hours, schlep gear wearing painful boots, and freeze our asses off all day. Yet it only takes one turn—whether it’s the joltĚýof hardpack or the velvety purr of plundering pow—to remember what happiness is. This sport is a vehicle for joy, and it is best deployed at eye-watering speeds. There is nothing anyone can do to make myĚýlow-rise skinny jeans fashionable again. SoĚýmanufacturers, I implore you: give me a ski with meat, and leave the feathers for walking up mountains.

The post These New Skis Have Gone Too Far appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

Maho Shades Charleston 2 Sunglasses ($125)

These sunnies are so lightweight, you’ll forget they’re on your face. Made of wood pulp and cotton, the frames have a special coating that gets sticky when wet, so they stay put during sweaty adventures.

Gregory Detour 40 Pack ($120)

Designed to be simple and adaptable, the Detour 40 is an ideal carry-on. It features two ­handles for easy use, a contoured shoulder harness for comfort, just the right number of pockets for passports and snacks, and a padded laptop sleeve. And still there’s enough space for the helmet that never seems to fit in your ski bag.

Sorel Explorer Joan Boots ($140)

Winter footwear can be cumbersome to travel with. But the Joan are so light, you’ll barely notice a difference in your luggage. Even so, the microfleece-covered footbed and waterproof leather and suede keep your feet dry and comfortable when streets turn sloppy. It even looks cute with jeans.

Sponsor Content
POC Fornix SPIN ($180)

Lightweight and well ventilated, POC’s new Fornix SPIN is the ultimate all-mountain helmet, allowing you optimum temperature control whether touring in the backcountry or riding the lifts this winter.

Cotopaxi Dorado Half-Zip Fleece Jacket ($100)

The Dorado’s cheerful colors and retro styling made us happy, and its midweight recycled-polyester material kept us warm without overheating—perfect for long days on the go. Plus, the company donates 1 percent of its profits to organizations dedicated to ending poverty.

Ěý

Rumpl Travel NanoLoft Puffy Blanket ($99)

Meet your new security blanket. The Rumpl is remarkably warm for being just 0.7Ěýpounds. It’s also water resistant and filled with 100 percent recycled synthetic insulation, and it stuffs down too small to ever leave behind.

NuraLoop Earphones ($199)

Using a special microphone, the new ­NuraLoop measures the vibrations your ears generate in response to certain tones. It then customizes the audio’s range accordingly, bumping up the treble for those less attuned to high-­frequency sounds, for example. The ­result is a much more immersive listening experience.

Hydro Flask Coffee bottle with Flex Sip Cap ($33)

Finally, a no-drip coffee bottle, thanks to Hydro Flask’s twist-lock mechanism. The double-walled stainless-steel container keeps liquids hot for 12 hours and cold for 24, and it’s dishwasher safe.

Patagonia ˛Ń±đ˛Ô’s Long Sleeve Natural Dye Fjord Flannel Shirt ($99)

This soft heavyweight flannel, made with organic cotton and plant-based dyes, will become your go-to multipurpose layer to dress up or down.

The post The Best Winter Travel Gear of 2021 appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

Clack clack clack—the sound of Timothy Olson’s feet hitting the thin pieces of shale on the trail was the only proof that he was not actually flying. The long-haired, tattooed, bearded, and sinewy Western States 100 champion, wearing a paperweight tank top and Steve McQueen shades, had run past a herd of bighorn sheep grazing in the meadow, a handful of marmots, and a family of mountain goats, the kids cocking their heads at him curiously.

He’s one of a number of high-profile runners—including Olympic gold medalist Gwen Jorgensen, ultraman and podcast host Rich Roll, and Black Roses NYC run-club co-founder Knox Robinson—who gathered in Glacier National Park earlier this summer to test out the new .

The culmination of 13 years of research and development, the Vistas are designed to withstand both heavy perspiration and the nastiest weather and to keep out dust and sand. Naturally, our first task was to see how the headphones performed on an early-morning run to Avalanche Lake, a glacier-fed beauty in the heart of the park. TheirĚýEarthproof construction is rated at IPX7—one of the highest waterproof and sweatproof ratings in the industry. And while it was too cold for anyone to volunteer to test them underwater—the Vistas are waterproof down to a meter for 30 minutes—everyone was impressed with how rock-solid the headphones felt in our sweaty ears.

The main reason for that is the fit. The Vistas' fins anchor them snugly in your ears, and the headphones themselves require no fitting or molding—Jaybird studied thousands of different ear scans to develop a unique replaceable wing that nests neatly in your ear—so they feel great right out of the box. (And in the rare event they don’t, they come with ear gels in a variety of sizes for customization.) Translation: the Vistas felt secure even when we were running at eye-watering speeds down a rocky trail or, later, doing downward dogs and headstands on yoga mats. “They fit my ear really well, and stayed put,” Olson says. “They’re so small I could barely tell they were there.”

Size matters, especially with an endurance-minded crew like this, which is Jaybird’s sweet spot. The company is based outside of Park City, and, as Roll, observed one day, “they do all the same stuff we do, and that informs the products they make.” At only six grams apiece, each earbud weighs as much as one sheet of paper. The included charging case weighs 45 grams (about as much as two AA batteries) and is small enough to fit in the car-key pocket of your running shorts. It opens and closes with a satisfying snap and the buds are secured with magnets.

Speaking of charging, most folks won’t need to do so all that much. The have one of the longest-lasting batteries on the market, with 16 hours in the headphones alone and ten more with the charging case. If you use one bud at a time, you can get up to 32 hours of continuous use. (If you do forget to plug them in, five minutes of charging—about the time it takes to lace up your shoes and stretch out—provides an hour of power.)

The single-bud option is also where the Vistas standĚýout among the competition, as lots of runners, including Olson, prefer to listen to just one headphone at a time—an especially important feature in bear country. “I want to pay attention to my surroundings,” Olson says, echoing a sentiment illustrated by the nervous chitchat I heard from our crew before one predawn run in Glacier. But the benefits of listening through a single bud don’t stop at safety. It also means the ability to chat with other trail users or runners in your group. For Olson, that means during the stretches when he lets them catch up, anyway.

To enable this single-bud option, Jaybird diverged from the typical wireless operating system, where one bud is the master. Instead, each of the Vista’s buds connects to your phone independently, eliminating connectivity and syncing issues. Additionally, each bud features voice activation and identical control features—tap to play or pause a song or answer a phone call,Ěýdouble-tap to skip to the next song. The new JBS1 chipset pairs and connects seamlessly with your phone or watch, too.

Somehow, in making these buds smaller and lighter than previous models, Jaybird also managed to improve the sound, redesigning the six-millimeter milled drivers for better accuracy and less harmonic distortion. Jaybird also designed an app feature that allows you to customizeĚýthe equalization settings, adding more bass or even downloading another user’s settings. (The app also features a “Find my Buds” feature that identifies the last place they were used.) And although the Vistas don't have active noise canceling, they block out an impressive amount of ambient chatter and noise, an appealing feature for urban runners or frequent travelers.

“The quality of the sound really got me,” says Olson, who listens to calming meditation music before races and then ramps it up when he’s low or tired. Indeed, meditation and mindfulness were hot topics here, because being present, thinking about nothing but the next bend in the trail, is precisely why athletes love to run, bike, ski, and hike in the first place. And as far as Jaybird is concerned, the less distracted you are by your devices, the easier it is to be in the moment.

If that’s the ultimate test—how well a pair of wireless headphones allowsĚýyou to push your limits—then the Ěýare in a league of theirĚýown. On the performance side, theyĚýcan easily handle any weather that comes your way and will stay put no matter how rough the trail gets. But what sets them apart from the pack is how good they are at everything else. “It's a giant step forward on the product,” noted Roll, who has tested all of Jaybird’s previous models. “They’re way lighter weight, the noise-canceling is better, and the battery life is longer.” In other words: better all the way around.

The post Jaybird’s New Wireless Earbuds Are Damn Near Perfect appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.