Blindspot

You never really know.

You never really know.

Magazine | Photos: Joseph Roby & Alexis Paradis | Supporting Photos: Jon Stark, Louif Paradis, Mark Wilson, Sam Taxwood | Editor: Colleen Quigley | Words: Jon Stark | Art Direction: Alexandra Erickson Flim | Film and edit: Jon Stark | Produced by Dakine & Colleen Quigley | Art Direction: Alexandra Erickson | Color and post production: Tyler Malay

“We were driving far that day, taking a gamble, going to check out some old soviet looking space observatory in the middle of the country. We got lost in this town and while the boys were giving me directions, I came to a roundabout. I looked left to see if a car was coming, while still moving forward, like you’re supposed to do at a roundabout. When I turned my eyes back forward, I rear-ended a honda CRV. Solid Contact. The driver gets out of the car and it’s a cop. A bunch of people gathered around. One local in particular helped us translate. What they seem to do there is, they pick up people on the side of the road and just drop them off about anywhere, without pulling over.

And that’s what he did there in the middle of the roundabout. I tried arguing; it didn’t work. Then I tried to be nice; it worked a little better. We just wanted to get out of there and not have to follow them to the station. In the end we just had to pay a fine before leaving the country.” – Louif

Blindspot | A short flim and magazine by Dakine | Featuring: Louif Paradis, Mark Wilson & Sam Taxwood Magazine | Photos: Joseph Roby & Alexis Paradis | Supporting Photos: Jon Stark, Louif Paradis, Mark Wilson, Sam Taxwood | Editor: Colleen Quigley | Words: Jon Stark | Art Direction: Alexandra Erickson Flim | Film & Edit: Jon Stark | Produced by: Dakine & Colleen Quigley | Art Direction: Alexandra Erickson | Post Production: Tyler Malay

Finding places to travel to for snowboarding these days encompasses a few criteria. Hills and snow. Grab a few friends, maybe a filmer and a photographer...

If only if it were that easy.

We packed for anything, trying to be as prepared as possible for a trip with many unknowns. A 16mm camera, lights, an Äsmo, more cameras, tuning kit, extra boards – enough for future back problems.

Hauling gear and luggage across the planet is only step one of many in getting ourselves, our gear and our sanity to the country of Georgia.

Mid-transit our trip started with a 24-hour delay in Munich in the middle of a freak snow storm. No matter how prepared we were for the journey, there was the looming risk of getting skunked with snow, weather, kick-outs, injuries‌ and so many other factors. But the reward for the risk paid out.

Lift tickets are expensive and stressful. You can shell out $100 for a lift ticket in N. America, in Georgia it was $12.

I’ll remember the moment we saw the ski jump with the rail coming off it for the first time. We couldn’t believe a feature like this existed. A rail coming off it, a fresh layer of snow, and an untouched downhill landing. We carefully chose first light of the third day to make our move on it.

When we showed up the area was covered in skiers looking to get fresh turns on the T-bar next to the ski jump. Lou climbed the wall using his snowboard as a ladder and once up there began to pat down the path towards the out rail.

At that moment an employee yelled out to us “I demand your respect!”, I yelled back without hesitation “you have my respect!”. He nodded politely and watched as Lou strapped in, dropped in, and landed in the fresh snow below. First try, board slide off the end.

The road to Mestia should be featured on the Travel Network’s “World’s Sketchiest Roads” show. Louif drove while we sat white-knuckled passengers, up the guardrailless switchbacks, pounding beers and hoping we weren’t gonna slide off the road. It would have been the end of us.

Once we got to Mestia and laid our eyes on the castle towers of this majestic mountain village, we came across an out of place looking quad kink within the first three minutes of rolling into town. No weld marks and no idea how they got it up that sketchy road as one giant piece of metal. When it came down to sessioning the rail, we were faced immediately with hesitation from the janitor/ electrician of the school. He forcibly kicked us off of school property, using broken English and body language we could understand. We couldn’t take no for an answer.

The janitor handed me his flip phone circa 1999. I was gearing up for more broken English and lost in translation moments, but was pleasantly surprised to hear perfect English from the school director on the other end of the phone, offering us luck and permission on our conquest of this giant rail.

The Russians left Georgia in 1991, because of the inevitable collapse of the USSR. They left behind hotels, ski resorts and buildings galore, devoid of human attention for decades. When we showed up the abandoned infrastructure was sprawling in front of us.

The entire country seemed to be cast in a cloak of mystery, vacant of any digital guide. Our phones didn’t properly work. We used paper maps to navigate. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. Like one giant blindspot on the map.

On the plane to Georgia from Munich I sat next to a woman native to the country. She wanted to know why I was traveling to Georgia. When I mentioned to her about the fact that we might not have time to go to the capital city of Tbilisi, she became visibly angry and told me that I would be disrespecting the entire country by not exploring the city. She relentlessly explained in detail how rude it was of me to not pay my respects to their golden-fleeced city. Lou heard the woman from the row behind me, and we both laughed it off, but made sure that we spent our last 24 hours in Georgia doing what the woman angrily suggested. We gave the city our respect.

36 hours in Tbilisi. We did our best to rapidly get around town and see as much as we could, and to slow things down - sit and have beers and people watch over this magnificent ancient city. There is a duality in the city, of modern contemporary architecture and centuries old buildings made of brick. The city has an other worldliness.

Calmness can be misleading. Sometimes you forget how good they are because of a cool and calm demeanor 99% of the time. But there’s that 1% of the time that they really let the crows fly - while strapped in‌ or rear-ending a cop.

Blindspot.

I had driven by that yellow house at least 8 times in my history of filming snowboarding in the province of Quebec. All it took was an eager set of eyes from Lou and Sam to see the potential. A hill, a roof, and a rail.

Louif came to this spot years ago to do one of the first wallride to rail tricks we had ever seen. Years later, and with natural speed from a massive snow pile next to it, we witnessed the next generation of snowboarding do what Lou did. Switch. It took all of our breath away, and if you listen closely to the run out when Sam lands, you can hear Lou squeal with happiness.

We scoped the dam a few days prior, knowing very well that the majority of the slope into it was covered in 6 inches of ice. We shoveled for almost 6 hours that day thinking that there was no way Lou was gonna snowboard that afternoon. We shoveled to complete exhaustion. I had mentioned to Lou that the afternoon light was more ideal due to the fact that it was spread evenly over the large area under the bridge. Lou grabbed his board and boots, and that’s when the adrenaline kicked in. Four attempts later and he’s riding away.

One of the crazier tricks I’ve ever filmed. We celebrated down the road with poutine and beers.

Things aren’t always what they seem. It’s easy to be negative, or not see the positive. We can be blind to what we don’t see or know. Georgia was a beacon of unknown. And set side by side to the unknown was now the known; Quebec – arguably the most iconic and recognizable visual to the snowboard community.

The area has been pillaged for the last two decades by some of the best riders we’ve ever seen. But all it took was open minds and snow accumulated in ways we hadn’t seen before.