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EDITOR’S NOTE

This issue is anchored by features on Black women who are leaning into their personal experiences to transform their spaces in music and dance. Our cover story, “The Saweet Life” (page 22), is a revealing interview with breakout rapper Saweetie, who talks freely about how her huge success has been shaped by formative challenges and her refusal to be confined by expectations. And in “Love and Liberation on the Dance Floor” (page 34), movement artists Sheopatra Jones and Yorelis Apolinario reveal how their art and activism as queer Black women are intertwined in a beautiful way. We hope you find these stories as inspiring as we do.

At an outdoors production at Red Bull HQ in Santa Monica, G L Askew II shoots Saweetie, who’s holding a skateboard she had built a day earlier.

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CONTRIBUTORS THIS ISSUE

GL ASKEW II

ATIBA JEFFERSON

BEANDREA JULY

LAKIN STARLING

“Saweetie was so cool as a person—humble and down for whatever,” says the Los Angeles-based photographer, who has shot the likes of Dr. Dre, Jamie Foxx, Migos and Usain Bolt for such titles as Entertainment Weekly and Fader and brands like Adidas and Nike. In particular, Askew was impressed when the rapper grabbed a football.

“Her fans would be surprised to know she’s got an arm like Tom Brady.” Page 22

“Sheopatra and Yoe’s skills as movement artists, as well as the warmth of their personal connection, was beautiful to witness,” says the Los Angeles-based writer who profiled the two dancers.

July’s recent work has appeared in Vanity Fair, The Hollywood Reporter and the New York Times. “What stuck to me from our interview was how they make room for and embrace all that they are in their work.” Page 34

“Shooting Sheopatra and Yoe—two talented and intelligent Black women—was amazing, and I have to say seeing their love for one another was reassuring of the positive things in the world,” says the L.A.-based photographer. “Black is beautiful.” Jefferson, a skate and basketball insider who also took the BLM protest image on page 14, has shot recent covers for Thrasher and Slam. Page 34

“It was great to connect with Saweetie and talk about some of the things that Black women navigate in life and specifically within the music industry,” says the Brooklynbased writer who tackled our cover story. Starling’s work has been published by Teen Vogue, Esquire, Vulture and Pitchfork. “It was a pleasure to learn more about her early life and the many experiences that have shaped her into such a boss.” Page 22

THE RED BULLETIN

G L ASKEW II (COVER)

STATE OF THE ART

Copyright © 2020 MNA, Inc. All rights reserved.

TH E E NTI RE RI D E OUT, TH E RE WAS NEVER A S EC OND THOUG HT.

WHAT AR E YO U BU IL DIN G FO R ?

150 years of engineering progress. Check it out at www.BFGoodrichTires.com/150years .

CONTENTS October/November

FEATURES

2 2 The Saweet Life

After a summer of viral hits, the breakout rapper Saweetie opens up about fame, identity, love and her new album.

3 4 Love and Liberation

Movement artists and activists Sheopatra Jones and Yorelis Apolinario are the power couple the dance world needs.

4 4 Renaissance Waterman

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SHE’S ALL THAT The rapper Saweetie is many things—and she’s redefining what it means to be a BITCH: Boss, Independent, Tough, CEO and Hyphy.

Back home in Hawaii, watersports master Kai Lenny is rediscovering why he fell in love with the ocean in the first place.

5 6 Win-Win Situation

In just five years, more than 130 colleges have launched esports programs, attracting students seeking new opportunities.

6 8 Let’s Make an Ordeal

Cooped up at home in Wyoming, a crew of outdoor athletes concoct an intense mountain triathlon in their own backyard.

56 FULL STEAM

At Full Sail University, students like Megan Danaher are prepping for new careers in the booming gaming industry.

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THE RED BULLETIN

THE

DEPARTURE

Taking You to New Heights

9 How one man shed 300

pounds on a mountain bike

12 A WWII shipwreck that’s a

magnet for Cuban surfers

14 Skateboarders fighting for

BLM justice in Los Angeles

16 An exclusive travel outfit

lets you ski with the pros

18 A personal protective suit

for the responsible raver

19 Changing the way we view

climate change through art

20 The 1975’s frontman shares

his top activist anthems

GUIDE

Get it. Do it. See it.

79 Travel: Remote getaways 84 Training tips from pro

snowboarder Zeb Powell

86 Dates for your calendar 88 The best new outdoor

barware and snow gear

96 The Red Bulletin worldwide

G L ASKEW II, ATIBA JEFFERSON, FULL SAIL UNIVERSITY

98 Flipping out in Panama

34 BEST FOOT FORWARD

Dancers Yorelis Apolinario (left) and Sheopatra Jones make the revolution look irresistible.

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LIFE

&

STYLE

BEYOND

THE

ORDINARY

THE

MICHAEL DARTER

LOSS LEADER

Thanks to a newfound love for mountain biking and a drive to inspire others, Anthony Lopez has already shed 300 pounds. And he’s not done: “I have no interest in slowing down.”

THE RED BULLETIN

“I am in love with mountain biking,” says Lopez, who was photographed near Anaheim Hills, California, on July 31.

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A

nthony Lopez is on his bike, grinding it out. The singletrack is steep and rutted and the air in this inland corner of California’s Orange County feels hot enough to bake enchiladas. He is in a small gear and mashing his pedals like cresting this wicked pitch means something.

Lopez, 30, looks nothing like a typical mountain biker.

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He’s Black and Mexican American and he presently weighs a little north of 300 pounds. Cranking that body up an unrelenting trail takes strength and willpower and something more than that— let’s call it guts.

Lots of people turn to an active pursuit like mountain biking to change their body and outlook, to catalyze real change in their lives, but few

attempt a transformation as dramatic or public as this one.

Atop an open ridgeline, admiring a panorama of peaks in Cleveland National Forest to the east, Lopez pauses to recount how he got here. He had always struggled with his weight, but things got worse a few years ago when his grandfather got stomach cancer. Eventually, Lopez stepped in as a hospice caregiver, spending months in the trenches—up all night, administering morphine, watching a beloved grandparent fade and suffer.

“I just gave up trying to control what I ate,” he recalls.

A few days after his grandfather died in 2018, Lopez stepped on his scale and got an error message— meaning he topped 600 pounds. “That was the low point,” he says. “I stared at the display and thought ‘Fuck this—I want to fix this.’ ” After some time to gather his bearings and formulate a plan, Lopez, who already had successful channels on YouTube and Instagram focusing on automotive content, started documenting his efforts to eat smarter and exercise regularly and otherwise regain his health.

He initially focused on boxing and weight lifting to get fit, but this past spring the COVID-19 pandemic shut down those options. Lopez had happy memories of riding as a kid so he got a mountain bike and took a stab at a hilly, locally well-known 11-mile circuit called the Fullerton Loop. “I was only able to ride a couple of miles that first time,” he recalls. “It was hard as hell for me.”

But he stuck with it, capturing considerable stoke and disarming honesty in his social posts, and forged himself into a real mountain biker. Less than 60 days after THE RED BULLETIN

MICHAEL DARTER

“Everything about my life is different,” says Lopez, who wants to help get kids from his community on bikes.

TH E D E PA RT U R E

Lopez carves turns in California’s Santiago Oaks Regional Park.

At a low point just two years ago, Lopez weighed more than 600 pounds.

his maiden voyage, Lopez completed the Fullerton Loop.

And now, three months after that, he’s crushing that circuit a few times a week. “I am in love with mountain biking,” he says with a toothy smile.

“And people seem to be responding to it.”

That is an understatement.

In the early months of his transformation he saw steady interest in his videos, but one day this spring it blew up. “I went to sleep with a fully charged phone and when I woke up it was dead,” he says.

“It literally buzzed all night.”

“I THINK RIGHT NOW PEOPLE ARE NEEDING SOME INSPIRATION.” THE RED BULLETIN

In a flash, he picked up 100,000 followers on TikTok and things took off from there.

Now he’s closing in on 800,000 followers and has shifted his focus from automotive content to a digital celebration of mountain biking and weight loss.

“I think especially right now people need some inspiration, something positive.”

His authentic joy while riding is hard to miss on the trail. Lopez flows through tight switchbacks with grace, and when he sees little ramps on one downhill stretch, he starts launching jumps. “If you have releases, give them to me now,” he tells a photographer along for the ride. “We are definitely doing this.”

His car-nerd obsessiveness to detail is on display as he proudly deconstructs his recently upgraded steed—a Specialized hardtail that he had powder-coated and

outfitted with a new fork and a gold chain. “I think I’m ready for a road bike soon,” Lopez says. He says his goals for the fall are to try his first mountain bike race and complete a 50-mile ride.

To sustain such goals, Lopez has changed how he eats—eschewing junk food and eating small, nutrientrich meals every four hours.

“I eat chicken and fish, fruits and vegetables. I eat a little rice,” he says. When asked if he feels pressure to stay on track with hundreds of thousands of new fans following his transformation, he laughs. “No, I don’t feel any pressure,” he says. “I’m hearing from so many people who need inspiration and now I’m feeling this strength through for them.”

Lopez hardly feels like he’s at the end of his journey. He wants to get down to 210 pounds, but his goals are not focused on digits on his scale.

This summer was full of firsts—he shared a jet ski with his brother and rode shotgun in his friends’ sportscars and most recently nailed a tabletop jump at a ski-area bike park for the first time. (“I’m not going to lie,” he says, “I had tears in my eyes.”) And when the snow comes to the mountains of SoCal this winter, he’s eager to return to the mountains and strap on a snowboard for the first time.

“Everything about my life is different,” he admits, recalling how he used to take off his shoes if they needed to be retied. “I have no interest in slowing down.”

The afternoon ride is almost over—all that’s left is the steep downhill back to the parking lot. “I’m getting better at going uphill, but going downhill—that’s my happy place,” he says. And with that, he clips in and bombs down the trail. —Peter Flax 11

TH E DE PA RT U R E

Baracoa, Cuba

WRECK CENTER

WILL SAUNDERS/RED BULL ILLUME

Utah-based photographer Will Saunders had been documenting a crew of surfers and skaters in Cuba for a fortnight when they took him to one of their favorite spots.

“I couldn’t believe it,” Saunders says of the rusted wreck. “This place felt like a spot out of Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater. We spent the entire morning making images of this unique wave and surfing until the swell was gone. The game of this wave is to try to surf under the bow of the boat while dragging your hand along its hull—without getting tetanus. Yojany [Pérez, the surfer pictured] made it look too easy.” willsaundersphoto.com

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Los Angeles, California

Inspired by the Black Lives Matter protests that surged in the wake of the murder of George Floyd, skaters across the country took over the streets to show solidarity and join in the fight against systemic racism. “People and companies have been so blind in supporting and hiding racism,” says the L.A.-based photographer Atiba Jefferson, who captured this image in Hollywood on June 20. “Since George Floyd, our country finally is facing this ugly lie of what was the ‘American Dream.’ I used my camera at the protest to show people coming together to show change in our community.” atibaphoto.com

ATIBA JEFFERSON

SKATE FOR JUSTICE

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TH E DE PA RT U R E

Backcountry Adventure

MASTER CLASS

Got what it takes to ski with the pros? Now you can jet off to Chile with Ian McIntosh or hone your backcountry skills in France with Johnny Collinson, thanks to an exclusive travel outfit. body,” says Findler, who also ran her own wellness practice.

“You train so hard you know what pain is, so if you say you’re in pain, you’re in pain.”

When her symptoms became so debilitating that she ended up bedridden, Findler left her home in ski mecca Whistler, B.C., to move in with family in her native U.K. “I was really depressed and also scared. I didn’t really know where income was going to come from,” she recounts.

“I was lying in bed and thought, I need something to look forward to. I need a passion project.”

Considering she’d always relished opportunities to take others out on the mountain and the fact she just happened to know many of the world’s top skiers, Findler came up with an idea. “I reached out to all my friends who are pros

No more than 10 participants are allowed on Uthrive’s ski excursions, so each person’s special access to pros like Ian McIntosh is unparalleled.

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and said, ‘Hey I’m thinking about running these ski trips.

Are you interested?’ And they all said yes.”

She quickly filled her first trip—a 2019 excursion to the French Alps with pal Ian McIntosh, an accomplished big-mountain skier and TGR film star—simply by posting to Instagram. “I spent no money on advertising and marketing. I didn’t have any money,” she laughs.

Since then, Findler (who was eventually diagnosed with an autoimmune condition called systemic lupus erythematosus, which she’s now managing) has held ski retreats in Chile with McIntosh; the Swiss Alps with Freeride World Tour champs Jackie Paaso and Reine Barkered; and returned to the French Alps with pro freeskier and Red Bull athlete Johnny Collinson in early March, Uthrive’s last trip before the COVID shutdown. A variety of new excursions are planned for 2021.

“It’s really rewarding to go out with these somewhat strangers, have a good time, make new friends and at the end of it they’re like, man, that was super fun or inspiring or rewarding,” Collinson says.

“They’re getting this cool experience out of it. As am I.” Trips are capped at 10 participants, who spend several full days shredding pristine powder on some of the Uthrive pros’ favorite—and often little-known—off-piste terrain, accompanied by Findler, the trip’s pro and two

From France and Switzerland to Chile and Japan, Uthrive travels to the world’s best backcountry spots.

IAN MCINTOSH

W

hen it comes to jobs, Rachel Findler has one that is undeniably enviable: The 38-year-old leads excursions around the world for small groups of advanced skiers who get to beef up their backcountry skills with the help of world champions.

But what prompted Findler to come up with the idea for her boutique business, called Uthrive, isn’t nearly as desirable. After a lifetime of skiing and several years spent as a sponsored, medal-winning freeride competitor, she woke up from a 2015 knee surgery knowing something was seriously wrong. Suddenly riddled with chronic pain and fatigue, she was frustrated by dismissive doctors unable to provide a diagnosis.

“Obviously, being an athlete, you are in tune with your

THE RED BULLETIN

2021 UTHRIVE EXCURSIONS FIEBERBRUNN, AUSTRIA, WITH IAN MCINTOSH FEBRUARY 6-13 Findler says: “The Freeride World Tour is there and Ian used to compete on that tour. That’s how his career started. Austria is so overlooked. Everyone goes to the Alps, but Austria is quiet and that’s what we want. All the powder for us.”

NISEKO, JAPAN, WITH KYLE SMAINE FEBRUARY 20-27 Findler says: “[World halfpipe champion] Kyle has been going here for six years. It’s his favorite spot in the world.

Japan is on so many people’s bucket lists. The culture is just so beautiful and that’s a big part of it.”

VERBIER, SWITZERLAND, WITH REINE BARKERED APRIL, DATES TBD Findler says: “The final stop of the Freeride World Tour is in Verbier. It’s just a great experience to go with Reine and see the mountain he competes on and get him to talk about his experiences of skiing that mountain and hearing the stories, the tales from the tour.”

local guides. Then there are luxe perks like private chalet accommodations and multicourse gourmet meals created by a personal chef, along with wellness activities such as morning meditation and athlete mindset sessions.

Uthrive’s ultra-niche market is heavy on strong backcountry skiers facing a unique two-pronged problem: THE RED BULLETIN

They’ve become so advanced that they no longer have ski buddies who can keep up, and they’ve personally hit a plateau as to how to improve.

“When you’re a very good skier, the lessons and the skills you need to learn are mountain knowledge— weather systems, snowpacks, avalanche dangers, how to use an ice axe and how to

read a mountain and study the terrain,” Findler says.

“And that’s where the pros come in.”

Those pros are perhaps the trips’ biggest draw, providing not just guidance on the slopes but also oncein-a-lifetime interactions throughout the entire trip.

“You’re all staying together, you have dinners together,

you’re chilling out in the hot tub, you’re shooting the shit on the mountain all day.

People really enjoy hearing their behind-the-scenes backstories of filming or an expedition or the ski scene,” according to Findler. “People always say, ‘I didn’t know this was a thing,’ and I say, ‘It wasn’t. We created it.’ ” —Lizbeth Scordo 17

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Micrashell

SAFETY DANCE

As nightclubs and festivals look forward to reopening, this personal protective suit could be the future of rave fashion.

more complex and desirable manner.” To satisfy this desire, Risueño’s studio, Production Club, has developed a personal protective suit for ravers.

The Micrashell may make its wearer look like an extra from The Martian, but there’s some serious technology built in. “We’ve prioritized the safety element, which relies on a filtration system similar to that found in PAPR [powered airprocessing respirator] suits,” says Risueño. “Then we added functional and design features that make the suit compelling.”

These include an internal drinks and vape supply, a personal sound system and the requisite glowing LEDs: “The drinking-canister system is a solution to long waiting lines and eliminates the possibility of getting roofied. The individualized speaker system helps avoid ear fatigue.”

The Micrashell is currently in the prototype phase, being tested by Risueño himself. “I’m writing this from the inside of a very loud, safe and ugly helmet,” he says. The company has even considered the suit’s possibilities off the dance floor.

“Drinking, going to the restroom and potentially having sex are all things we could not neglect,” he adds.

“That’s why the suit only covers your torso upwards.”

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PRODUCTION CLUB

LOU BOYD

ights spent dancing in crowded rooms, sharing drinks and throwing arms around other people are all pleasures that are fast becoming distant memories for party lovers.

But one collective of club music fans have made it their goal to bring back those moments as soon as possible.

“Human-to-human interaction gives you a sense of purpose that cannot be substituted virtually just yet,” says L.A.-based creative director Miguel Risueño.

“It conveys emotions in a THE RED BULLETIN

Greenland’s ice sheet (shown in black) melted at record levels in 2019, shedding an estimated 370 billion tons.

Olafur Eliasson

ART FOR EARTH’S SAKE To make the world a better place, first you must change your perspective.

W OLAFUR ELIASSON, GETTY IMAGES

LOU BOYD

ith his latest creation, Olafur Eliasson (left) wants us to be the artist. The prolific DanishIcelandic artist’s work Earth Perspectives comprises nine fluorescent images of our planet; to unlock their meaning, the viewer must take a deeper look. For example, stare at the dot at the center of the globe on this page for 10 seconds before shifting your gaze to a neutral surface. The image produced by your eyes is, in effect, your own work of art and a new, unique view of the world.

THE RED BULLETIN

Earth Perspectives may be easy to engage with, but the artist’s meaning is complex. Though best known for his vast and conceptual installations, Eliasson has created this smaller-scale participatory piece to help alter our view of the planet during this time of ecological crisis.

By presenting areas under threat from climate change—including the Great Barrier Reef and Greenland’s ice sheet, as well as the site of the 1986 Chernobyl nuclear power plant disaster in Ukraine— the images prompt us to

recalibrate the way we see our world.

“Earth Perspectives envisions the Earth we want to live on together by welcoming multiple perspectives,” Eliasson says.

“Not only the perspectives of humans but also those of plants, animals and nature. A glacier’s perspective deviates from that of a human. The same goes for a river.”

Eliasson’s work is part of the Serpentine Galleries’ Back to Earth program, a multi-year project that will bring together more than 60 artists, poets, architects, filmmakers, scientists, thinkers and designers in a call to action on the climate crisis. Already urgent, this message now seems even more prescient due to the global pandemic.

“The current health crisis has brought our societies close to a halt, affecting our economies, our freedoms and even our social ties,” says Eliasson. “We must take the time to empathize with all those struck by the crisis, and to seize this opportunity to imagine together the Earth we want to inhabit in the future, in all its wonders and beauty, in the face of all the challenges ahead of us.”

To see Earth Perspectives in its entirety—and pieces by other participants, including Judy Chicago and Jane Fonda—visit the Serpentine Galleries online. serpentinegalleries.org 19

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Playlist

GETTING THE MESSAGE Matty Healy, frontman of the 1975, one of the U.K.’s most socially conscious bands, on four songs that stoke his activist side.

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JAMES BROWN “IT’S A MAN’S MAN’S MAN’S WORLD” (1966) “This is an amazing song— and it’s a very current subject, obviously. He’s talking about civil rights and misogyny. He sings that the world “wouldn’t be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl”—that is so true. I heard it again the other day and it made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.”

REFUSED “RATHER BE DEAD” (1996) “This band has had a big influence on us—like on our single ‘People’—not only with their political activism but also with their energy and urgency. This song is the most punk rock thing I’ve ever heard. Honestly, Refused were the last heavy band that I really gave a fuck about.”

RADIOHEAD “THE DAILY MAIL” (2011) “At times, Thom Yorke writes songs that are so odd. This one reminds me of England and the disappointment that fuels our society. We’re so disappointed in ourselves, and we celebrate our dreary shitness right across the board. It feels like a very true English statement.”

THE RED BULLETIN

BRETT LLOYD

PETER TOSH “EQUAL RIGHTS” (1977) “I love this track. It’s a manifesto, and the lyrics [in which Tosh demands justice and equal rights rather than peace] are just so true and so real. The spirit of this literally generates all of our songs, all of the emotional ideas. Everything starts with a song like this.”

MARCEL ANDERS

hy limit yourself to just one musical genre when you can play them all? With each of their three U.K. No. 1 albums, the 1975 have broadened their sound, creating a unique blend of R&B, punk, ambient and synth-pop that has won them a diverse fanbase. Alongside the music, the Manchester-based quartet have made headlines with their political activism—advocating sustainable shows, speaking out on LGBTQ+ rights, demanding a 50/50 gender split at festivals; and the opening track on their latest album, Notes on a Conditional Form, features a speech by Greta Thunberg. Here, lead singer Matty Healy shares his playlist of music with something important to say. Notes on a Conditional Form is out now.

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Saweetie, 26, was photographed for The Red Bulletin outside of Red Bull North America’s HQ in Santa Monica on July 7.

THE SAWEET LIFE

After a summer of viral hits, the breakout rapper Saweetie opens up about fame, identity, love, her new album, Pretty Bitch Music—and the work ethic that turned her desire for success into reality.

Words LAKIN STARLING Photography G L ASKEW II

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As a Bay Area native, Saweetie embraces the region’s culture, style and “hyphy,” or upbeat spirit.

B

elieve it or not, Saweetie has always been the underdog. It’s not immediately evident by her beauty, raving fan pages, pristine jewels and her ability to smash the internet with rap hits. But proving others wrong with her quiet charm, laser focus and work ethic has always fueled her ability to beat the odds.

For many artists like Saweetie, whose virality creates a pipeline to stardom, one may assume that their track to success was swift and without hard work. It wasn’t so easy in Saweetie’s case. Before the glitz of her “icy” career, she was an undergraduate student at USC with big rap dreams. When she wasn’t in class— or working one of her three jobs—the go-getter was uploading Instagram videos of herself rapping in her Jeep.

Gradually, she built a buzz on social media, and in 2017 she dropped the video for “Icy Girl.” Sporting long platinum tresses, a fur coat and expensivelooking satins, she embodied the attitude and luxury that she would ultimately manifest into her current reality. The

viral video catapulted her into the spotlight, and she hasn’t looked back since.

Born Diamonté Quiava Valentin Harper, the 26-year-old Northern California native grew up across enclaves of the Bay Area. As the daughter of young parents who were often busy with work, Saweetie moved around a lot and was mostly raised by her maternal and paternal grandmothers. The frequent relocations often made her the new kid at school, which forced her to gain confidence and learn to adjust quickly.

Although her classmates picked on her as an outsider and underestimated her abilities because of her looks, Saweetie tuned them out by excelling at sports like volleyball, skateboarding and track and field.

Now, as a rapper, Saweetie is breaking records with nonstop bops like “My Type” and “Tap In.” Her songs capture the Bay Area’s hyphy, upbeat spirit and encourage listeners to have the maximum amount of fun and selfconfidence. Her message is not about having a specific look, but more about expressing a bossed-up energy that grants fans permission to shower themselves with love, good times and, of course, beautiful things. Saweetie admits that she’s learned a lot about her artistry since her earlier EPs and guarantees that her evolution is apparent in her debut fulllength album, Pretty Bitch Music, which releases this fall. It’s a more textured project, with a ranging production that lets her audience discover more of her layers as a woman.

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With 7 million followers on Instagram, Saweetie has mastered the art of giving fans a taste of her extraordinary life—like when she’s trying out her brandnew skateboard.

the red bulletin: You’ve brought a lot of fun to Instagram and social media while we’ve all been stuck inside. What’s that experience in quarantine been like for you? saweetie: I always tell people if I wasn’t an artist, I probably would post like once a year. Why? I don’t know.

Social media used to give me a lot of anxiety, especially when I first popped off, because it was so many people with things to say, and it just gave so many people access to me so quickly. It made me kind of become a recluse from social media, but then I realized that social media is an imaginary world. Good and bad things happen there. Once I was able to develop my mental toughness and learn how to steer through social media, it became fun for me, and that’s when I started selectively showing my personality.

You also show a lot of family and loved ones on social. How does their energy impact who you are?

They bring out the best of me. If I’m working, it’s not that I’m not comfortable, but no one else can bring out my personality like my family. I can just be myself.

Which family members have been the most influential in your life?

My grandmother, because I lived on and off with her throughout my childhood.

A lot of people don’t know that, but my grandmothers really raised me, and I feel like they did a really great job. I had really young parents who were always out working, so definitely my grandmothers, on my Filipino/Chinese side and then on my Black side.

They come from different cultures, but they had the same in the work ethic.

They were always working. They were always getting their hair done. They always smelled good. They always kept their house clean. As a little girl, that was normal for me. When people say things

like, “What inspires you to be a boss?

Like, what makes you wanna empower women?”—these are things that were just regular for me growing up, like women in my family, all different types, shapes, sizes, even attitudes, right? You know how that goes. [Laughs.] But no matter what, no matter what the circumstances, it was always love and support. So for me, that just comes naturally.

Where exactly did you grow up in the Bay? I grew up all around the Bay, primarily in Hayward. One of my grandmothers lived in the city and the other one lived in Sunnyvale. I lived in San Jose as well, but I used to move around as a little kid because my parents were so young, so everybody used to babysit me.

But it just made me develop a tough skin, bouncing around from schools. It made me an adapter, because if you’re constantly changing new environments as a little kid, you never really become comfortable. You learn how to make the best of your situation. I really resented my childhood because I don’t feel like I grew up as a regular kid, but I felt like it prepared me to be in this business.

I’m persevering no matter what the circumstances and dealing with different types of people, problems. It made me a really strong young woman.

What about the Bay Area culture and style has influenced you as a person and an artist?

A lot of people are surprised that I’m able to do my own glam. I can do my own hair and makeup, but in the Bay Area, everybody wants to look good but be unique, too. I’ve always been colorful; I’ve always been dying my hair. I’ve always been trying to make myself look good. It inspired me to want to be fly.

I love the Bay Area because it’s like home of the pretty girls with bomb-ass attitudes. We’re so down to earth, we know how to party, but we still like to

“I love the Bay Area because it’s like home of the pretty girls with bomb-ass attitudes. We’re so down to earth.”

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look good and handle our business.

That’s what made me who I am on the day-to-day and who I am as an artist.

A lot of creativity and uniqueness comes from that.

Some people have tried to discredit your credibility to wear classic Bay Area styles like long nails, bamboo earrings and baby hairs. In your defense, some fans pulled up your childhood photos. Talk to me about how it’s always been a part of you.

Because I went to college and I can speak properly, people feel like they can question my “authenticity.” But who says a girl like me can’t go to college? Who says a girl like me can’t wear long nails because I got an education? There are all these false theories and stories about me because my success makes people feel a way. But when I think about it, I’m like, “Damn, I’ve always been this girl.”

But what really stripped me, as a woman of color, was college. When I went to San Diego State—and especially USC—it’s predominantly Caucasian, and I felt like I couldn’t be myself. College made me feel like I couldn’t be who I truly was because I had to conform. It took me about a year or two to feel comfortable with raising my hand and participating in class because I came into college talking so much slang.

I go to these classes and they’re using all these big words, and I’m like, “What’s going on?” I didn’t have the confidence to be vocal because these other kids just had a different type of education preparation. It made me feel like I had to change. So that’s why I love spending time with my family and getting back to my roots. [College] made me robotic because I felt like I had to be what society expected a student at a prestigious university to be like.

You also played sports, right? When did you start?

Girl, I came out of the womb playing

sports. [Laughs.] On my grandmother’s side, it’s like all boys, so all the girls are pretty much tomboys because we’re always kickin’ it with the boys. I used to race in the streets with no shoes on.

[Laughs.] We used to race all day and play football. I would try to mimic the older kids. Tetherball, kickball and baseball—whatever was around for us to play, we did, or we made up our own game.

My dad used to tell me I smell like “the great outdoors.” [Laughs.] I would come in with mud all over my jeans. Tree branches stuck in my hair because I was climbing trees—just super dirty, so I was always in the streets as a little kid.

I played a lot of basketball. All the girls in my family played—my cousins, my aunties—but it just wasn’t my cup of tea. I couldn’t hang, going up and down that court, so my mom forced me to try out for the volleyball team, and I hated her for it. But I immediately fell in love and started playing volleyball around sixth grade. Whenever school had Powder Puff, I would always play quarterback. I have an arm. And in high school I ran track.

In terms of success or hard work, how did sports impact the way you read or operate in the world? Any long-lasting impact?

I honestly feel—not to get super sentimental—like, this is purpose. This is God’s plan for me because I went through so much shit growing up. I also had to deal with fighting in the athletic world because I was a transfer student all the time. I was always the new girl and people weren’t so welcoming.

I remember when I tried out [for volleyball], it was very uncomfortable.

None of the girls liked me, and they said all I wanted to do was play sports so I could show off my ass, and other weird rumors. It was almost bullying, but like, mentally. People were trying to count me out. I had to fight to prove that I’m

“People like to question my ‘authenticity.’

But who says a girl like me can’t go to college? Damn, I’ve always been this girl.”

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“I came out of the womb playing sports,” Saweetie says. Although she played basketball, she fell in love with —and excelled at— volleyball as a teen.

“You have to be headstrong, believe in yourself and be comfortable with making your own mistakes.” athletic. I told one of the girls on varsity, “I’m gonna take your spot,” and I did. I always had that competitive edge to me.

It made my determination, my ambition and my ability to persevere. It made me mentally tough, and in this industry, you have to be mentally tough.

At what age did you know that you wanted to be a rapper?

Definitely when I was a sophomore in high school, because these boys are rapping in class. I was like, “OK, y’all cool, but I’m gonna go home and write my own rap.” So I came back and when I spit my shit in Algebra 2 the whole class went crazy, so I thought, “Wow, maybe I could do something like this.”

In college you started rapping from your car on Instagram. Were you like, “Let me try this out and see what happens,” or were you actively trying to make it big?

It was like, “I can’t afford the studio.” As a new artist, it’s sometimes very difficult when you’re not blessed with a great engineer. When you are inexperienced and a new artist, you sometimes don’t know when you’re dealing with a weak engineer because you’ve never done it before. I had a rough start because [my first] engineer just outright sucked.

I was like, “I’m tired of wasting my money, and I’m gonna just record online because everybody knows I wanna rap so I’m just gonna start posting it.” That’s why I was using all of these classic beats, because I didn’t have any connections to any beatmakers.

A lot of new artists struggle to get their songs on the radio and the charts, but “Icy” went viral, “My Type” was a hit, and “Tap In” keeps getting bigger and bigger. What’s your formula?

You know what, girl? I have no secret formula. When I meet upcoming girls, whether it’s Tay Money or Mulatto, 30

because I did hop on their songs, I try to share as much as I can, because I feel like I made a lot of mistakes early in my career because I had no guidance.

I loved sharing what it took me to get to this point. You have to be headstrong, you have to believe in yourself, and you have to be comfortable with making your own mistakes. I can’t sleep at night when I do something that someone told me to do. I didn’t even believe in it, but I didn’t have the courage to make my own decision. And then I have to take it to the chin because I took so many other people’s advice.

Work hard, develop a great team and make sure that they’re the right team.

Just because you have a team doesn’t mean that they know what they’re doing.

Get the right mentors. You should always have someone to go to who can be insightful, who can play devil’s advocate.

I do my own treatments. I pick my beats. I co-produce a lot of stuff. There’s a common denominator between great workers and artists, and nothing that I’m doing is new. Anytime someone asks me something, I’m always excited to share, because if I could save someone the time that wasn’t saved for me, I’d like to do that.

Women in rap have been making the most interesting music lately, but there’s a sentiment that there isn’t enough space for them to exist equally and be successful. What do you say to that?

The numbers prove that that’s a lie. [An identifier] that I would love to just be removed from the conversation is “for a girl” or “for a female rapper.” Like, we’re just rappers, and our fanbases, our charts and our numbers all prove that we’re equals. I used to hate the comment— especially at USC—“Oh, you’re pretty for a Black girl.” No, just say I’m pretty. I feel like it’s a backhanded compliment and although “for a female rapper” isn’t as in your face, you’re still telling me that

female rappers aren’t doing their part.

But we are. And we have to do that, plus more, because we have to get our weaves done, we have to do our lashes, our nails.

You know that shit takes five to six hours a day. That’s a lot. And lots of money.

My overhead is somebody’s tuition per month, so quit playing with us because we really go hard.

Some people have an unfair tendency to underestimate or simplify a woman who looks really good, but you’ve embraced your beauty. Has that ever made you feel like you’ve had to prove more or go harder?

Pretty privilege has been associated with my brand, but if anything, it’s been a hindrance. When people see a “pretty girl,” they associate her with being mean, with getting her way all the time—but my lifestyle was the exact opposite of that. So I didn’t want to shy away from it. I’m a bad bitch, so I’m going to be proud of it and give that power to my fans.

And a lot of people—especially men—are upset by women rapping about their bodies. You have lyrics, like in “Pretty Bitch Freestyle,” where you definitely are celebrating your sexuality.

I can attest to a moment like that. I remember when I did the song with Kid Ink and Lil Wayne, “Yuso,” and I was so proud of this moment. I was like, I’m gonna hop on that nasty song because I got some shit to talk. And I always tell myself if I’m gonna be nasty, I’m going to be like Missy. I love Missy and Missy’s nasty, but she’s gonna make you laugh with it. I worked really hard so that my bars were creative, fun and in my opinion, tasteful. When “Yuso” dropped, I got negative responses like, “Oh, she’s the college girl,” or “She’s classy, she can’t be talking like that.

Wow, she just ruined her brand and her career.”

THE RED BULLETIN

“I have an arm,” Saweetie says. And indeed, she does.

Here she’s captured right before she lobs a bomb across an empty parking lot.

Saweetie admits she likes the “finer things,” but she’s also a tomboy. “I’m not just some robotic pretty girl. I’m a human,” she says.

Yes, I went to school, but when I see my man, I’m gonna get freaky. I just call them “confused fans,” because your mama nasty, your grandma nasty, your great grandma’s nasty, too. When you make people uncomfortable, the easiest thing they can do—without really being a critical thinker—is go to their first thought. So that’s where the tweets and the hate came from. Celebrate whoever you are as a woman because people say, “Oh, she’s too conservative.

Oh, she’s too nasty. Oh, she’s too this. Oh, she’s too that.” You’ve gotta block those people out and just do you the best way you can.

You’ve recently opened up about your relationship with your boyfriend, Quavo. What’s it like to navigate being two very real humans and young people in love who are also both public figures?

It’s difficult, but I feel like it’s very grown-up. I feel like this is my first relationship where we’re very mature about a lot of things. I think it’s important, especially in Black love. I feel like communication is really important because—I don’t wanna generalize what it is—but for a while, I struggled with expression, because as a kid I was taught to just suck it up and move on. But you can’t do that in love. It’s not healthy; it builds resentment.

Healthy Black love was important to us and we know that we wanna be together and stick together. We both just learned from past mistakes of our own and we’re working together to be healthy. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about being healthy. It requires both people to participate; otherwise it’ll fail.

Talk to me about the album Pretty Bitch Music. That title is an acronym, right?

It took me so long to start saying “bitch” in my rap. If I’m going to use this word so

my listeners can have that much more relatability to me, I’m gonna let them know what “bitch” stands for. So that’s why I broke it down: BITCH means Boss, Independent, Tough, CEO, and I’m from the Bay, so the H means Hyphy. When I sift through my fans’ comments, they say that I make them feel pretty, I make them feel confident, I make them feel like they should go out and get their bag, so it’s like I make “pretty bitch music.” I have all these layers and all these moods that can be shown in my project.

How would you describe the layers that you peel back in this album?

As a woman, I do like the finer things in life, but I’m also a tomboy. I’m also a family woman. I also can get my feelings hurt. I do have emotions. I’m not just some robotic pretty girl. I’m a human and through these songs—whether they’re sentimental, personal, uplifting or fun— you’ll be able to get that because the project is over 15 songs. I’m really excited.

I’m finally figuring out what my artistry is.

And the sound? You’ve said this is not what people may expect from you.

I didn’t have the right guidance at first.

The people around me kept trying to go to the big hitmakers, and no one could really understand me as a person because I’m complex. But with this new project and working with people who truly know me as a person, I’m finally able to have everything interconnect. I’ve been hearing, “When people listen to this, they’re gonna be able to meet you before meeting you.”

Are you opening up more and showing other sides of yourself?

I’d say I’m learning how to. At first, I didn’t know how to have my personality come over a beat, which was super hard when it wasn’t a beat of my own. I’m learning how to take a song into my own hands and execute it the way Saweetie would do it.

“Healthy Black love is not about being perfect; it’s about being healthy. It requires both people to participate.”

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LOVE AND LIBERATION ON THE DANCE FLOOR

As movement artists and activists, Sheopatra Jones and Yorelis Apolinario are the power couple the dance world needs. Here’s how they make the revolution look irresistible.

Words BEANDREA JULY Photography ATIBA JEFFERSON

Yorelis Apolinario (left) and Sheopatra Jones were photographed in Santa Monica for The Red Bulletin on July 29.

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As partners in life and profession, Sheopatra and Yoe exude affection for each other.

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rom their townhome in L.A.’s San Fernando Valley, professional dancers Sheopatra “SheStreet” Jones and Yorelis “Yoe” Apolinario nestle closely on the couch for our virtual interview. It’s late July, and these partners in movement— and life—exude affection, even over Zoom. It’s like entering into a warm hug.

Yoe’s face brightens when asked to describe her fiancée’s dance style: “I feel

like the ancestors come down through her body and they are guiding her movements,” she says. “It feels like a sermon.”

Sheopatra is just as big a fan of Yoe: “There’s nothing she cannot do. The execution of everything she does is at the highest level. When I watch her dance, I’m always overwhelmed by how excellent she is.”

THE RED BULLETIN

They don’t finish each other’s sentences as much as they “yes and” them, helping each other flesh out details while constantly serving as mutual hype women. Their unspoken dynamic feels like the most natural thing in the world—totally uncontrived and adorable as hell.

In their world, there’s no separation between their art and their activism. The THE RED BULLETIN

very fact of their existence—as queer Black women and “movement artists” who approach their visibility with intention—is a daily form of resistance.

Indeed, by the end of my interview with Sheopatra and Yoe, it would be clear that in order to understand their art-activism, I would also need to understand their love—for themselves, each other and their community.

“I feel like the ancestors come down through her body and guide her movements.”

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Videos of Sheopatra and Yoe dancing have received props from legends like Chaka Khan and Diana Ross.

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oth Sheopatra and Yoe have worked with some of the biggest names in music today. In Chris Brown’s 2019 music video for “Undecided,” Sheopatra plays a smooth carnival barker; she has also danced for Missy Elliot and Pharrell. Yoe did a sixmonth stint as a dancer for Taylor Swift’s 2018 Reputation World Tour.

She has danced behind Backstreet Boys, Jordan Fisher, Alyson Stoner and Tinashe. Her moves have caught the attention of Justin Bieber and Kehlani.

And with almost 145,000 combined Instagram followers, they’ve received props from songstresses like Chaka Khan, Grammy-winning singersongwriter H.E.R. and Diana Ross.

A video of Sheopatra and Yoe dancing to Ross’s hit “Muscles” went viral in January 2018, with Ross reposting the video on her own Instagram. Wearing tailored menswear suits, the duo freestyles at a pace that pays homage to Ross’s soulful 1982 groove—written and produced by Michael Jackson— while interpreting it for the present day. The video has almost 300,000 views to date.

When Sheopatra dances, she looks energized, powered by something ineffable and deep. Her movement is playful and serious, smooth and staccato.

And she seems to be just as delighted as the viewer by the inherent surprise of the free-form movement coming through her moment by moment.

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Yoe’s high-energy movement is at once graceful, reflective and wild. She freestyles with fluidity and an athleticism ingrained by studying dance since she was 8 years old.

Whether they’re dancing together or separately, Sheopatra and Yoe transform entertainment into live-action demos of what liberation looks like for women of color within the cyphers of the vibrant Los Angeles dance scene. In the words of the late author and civil rights activist Toni Cade Bambara, as artists they “make the revolution look irresistible.”

As active Instagrammers, they also make the revolution accessible. Their

2018 video activation, titled “Say It,” features Sheopatra, Yoe and four male dancers, all dressed in vintage Black Panther Party garb. From the patio of a house in the Los Angeles hills overlooking the city below, they each take turns freestyling to the protest song “Hell You Talmbout” by Janelle Monáe and her artist collective, Wondaland. The expansive landscape, paired with their bold movements and the song’s lyrics— which call out names like Eric Garner, Sandra Bland and Trayvon Martin—has an unmistakable galvanizing power that taps into the outrage over unarmed Black people who’ve been killed by police.

The dancers transform entertainment into live-action demos of liberation for women of color.

THE RED BULLETIN

“I’m always overwhelmed by how excellent she is.”

Whether playful or serious, their freeform movements enchant viewers.

On their Instagram feeds, evocative freestyles and choreography appear alongside impromptu salsa dances.

For Sheopatra and Yorelis, documenting their choreography or freestyles in parking lots, tennis courts and the sidewalks of L.A. for social media isn’t just about racking up views and likes; it’s about using their platform to amplify the voices of marginalized groups and the causes they have long championed, like the Black Lives Matter movement. They have supported BLM since it emerged in 2013 as a response to the killing of Trayvon Martin.

For this duo, movement equals activism. “I have never met another woman that moves the way [Yoe] moves,” Sheopatra says. “Even that is activism, just being who you choose to 40

be and not allowing society or anything around you to force you away from what’s your call to do, what your gifts are, and to be the greatest.”

Yoe adds: “Even in our videos, where we have just a simple setup of a camera, and we have friends around us in the dance—that’s a form of activism. That’s seeing Black and Brown people having fun, being boisterous instead of a lot of the things that are presented to us.”

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rowing up in Memphis, Sheopatra was largely self-taught as a dancer. Her first love was the Memphis strut style called jookin (rhymes with lookin’), which artists like

Janelle Monáe and Jon Boogz have helped usher into the mainstream.

During high school she started taking studio classes, and when she was 19 she moved to Los Angeles at the urging of her brother, a professional drummer who was pursuing a career in L.A. But after three months she had “an L.A. freakout” and returned home. Back in Memphis, she dove even deeper into jook and took classes in other street dance styles. About a year later, her cousin called and booked her a one-way ticket to Los Angeles before they hung up. Three months later she was back in Los Angeles and has been living there for more than a decade.

THE RED BULLETIN

“It’s a raw experience when you watch her— you’re really gonna feel who she is.”

Now 30, Sheopatra is a full-time performer, and her dream of dancing professionally has come true after many years of grinding in the L.A. dance scene.

Today she dances many styles— popping, breaking, funk, contemporary and the fast footwork of house. With jook as her foundation, Sheopatra eventually gravitated toward popping and has garnered national attention for her smooth fusion of the two. This is a rare combination, according to Ryan Webb, a veteran dancer (also known as “Future”) and the director of education at the Washington, D.C.–area dance company Urban Artistry.

“Mixing popping and Memphis jookin, that was kind of unheard of in the hip-hop community,” Webb says.

An archivist who has spent years documenting urban dance styles to preserve for future generations, Webb recommended Sheopatra to Red Bull Dance for entry into its 2019 Dance Your Style competition in Honolulu, where she advanced to the semifinals.

(She ultimately lost to the dancer Hazmat.)

Memphis native Sheopatra and Yoe, who grew up in Tampa, Florida, met in 2015 through an audition for Fox’s reality competition show So You Think You Can Dance.

“She’s not trying to be trendy,” Webb continues. “She’s truly being herself as an artist. There’s something that’s really genuine about her. You really get something that’s not cookie cutter. It’s a raw experience when you watch her— you’re really gonna feel who she is.”

Although Yoe, 25, comes from a background of formal training in ballet and modern that spanned her childhood growing up in Tampa, Florida, she took a liking to hip-hop dance classes early. After high school she was part of a breaker crew called the Flooridians and did a stint as a go-go dancer in a nightclub. As one of the only girls in a crew of B-boys, she eventually realized that she didn’t like breaking. But she loved freestyling, something she hadn’t encountered before as a classically trained dancer.

“Coming from a world in ballet where I’m told where to put my body 24/7 and ‘you don’t have the body for this but keep trying’ into a world where [you’re encouraged to] find your own style, I really couldn’t see myself reverting back,” Yoe says.

When Yoe dances, Sheopatra says, “she has no fear in her movement. Even if she’s afraid, you won’t know until six months later. She’s literally like, ‘Oh I’ve never river-danced before. Cool, I gotta learn river dancing.’ Then you go see the performance and she’s the only person you can see on the stage because she’s standing out that crazy among the crowd of dancers.”

Yoe says Sheopatra has been instrumental in exposing her to new styles: “When I started learning jookin

BRIAN SMITH

Alongside collaborator and videographer Brian Smith, Sheopatra and Yoe direct and choreograph cinematic activism that calls for justice for Black lives and female solidarity.

THE RED BULLETIN

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“It is cool to see artists represent something bigger than themselves.” from her, it made sense, because I loved Southern trap—I loved Three 6 Mafia when I was little—and Memphis jookin and Southern trap music are married.”

Then she giggles, “I feel 9 years old every time I try to jook, and I’m still discovering new styles.”

In 2015, Yoe got her big break on Season 12 of Fox’s prime-time competition show So You Think You Can Dance and made it to the top 14. She has been dancing full-time ever since.

Sheopatra and Yoe actually met at the audition for So You Think You Can Dance.

They felt a connection right away and exchanged numbers, but they opted to get to know each other as dance collaborators first. Eventually, their professional 42

relationship evolved into a romance that blossomed almost four years ago.

Then in October 2019, under the guise of shooting a new dance video, Yoe orchestrated a surprise marriage proposal surrounded by a group of their close friends. Sheopatra was genuinely surprised but quickly accepted.

“They just have the best communication I’ve seen within a relationship, observes Alexa Nof, their close friend and dance collaborator.

“They’re so great on their own that together they’re even more powerful.”

Nof adds: “They’re very loving toward each other but they’re also not so much [into] physical touch in front of people.

They show it through their actions.”

Nof is a member of the Council Women, the dance company Sheopatra founded in 2015 not long after she met Yoe, who became a member of the group. The Council is also something of a chosen family, where six women are committed to actively supporting one another in pursuing their professional and personal goals.

The Council Women’s first big gig was at the 2019 Dance Your Style U.S. Finals in Las Vegas. In a video clip from the performance, Sheopatra, Nof and company member Crystal Jackson, dressed all in denim, dance barefoot on a sidewalk that has been transformed into a battle stage. The enthusiastic nighttime crowd circles around them THE RED BULLETIN

In 2015, Sheopatra founded the Council Women, an all-women dance company. Yoe became an early member.

as they confidently perform their streetstyle choreo.

When Sheopatra asked Nof to be an inaugural member of the Council Women, Nof was a professional dancer getting hired more to choreograph than dance. Reflecting on her regular freestyling—as well as being exposed to a variety of new dance styles through the Council—she now finds herself, five years later, getting more gigs as a freestyler.

“They keep motivating me to this day,” Nof says. “There’s not a day that I’m not watching them as if it’s my first time.

They always surprise me [and] just continue to inspire me.”

Webb of Urban Artistry is equally THE RED BULLETIN

inspired by the pair and their vision. “I want to keep shining light on artists that are standing for justice and equality, and also bringing these art forms into different platforms to be appreciated by different types of people,” he underscores. “It is cool to see artists that represent something bigger than themselves.”

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s they cozy up on the couch during our interview, I ask what Sheopatra and Yoe are working toward in the future. What the couple offers is more a mission statement than a bucket list, and that mission is nothing short of the harmony of their art and activism.

For Yoe, she wants to see the professional dance industry “create the standard of respect” for its artists. “I want to make changes so that when people come in after me, they don’t have to go through the same things I went through,” she says. “They don’t have to feel uncomfortable about going up to a choreographer and saying, ‘I don’t know if I can wear this leotard in this music video’ and not feel like the villain.”

Sheopatra’s response is more philosophical but shares the same conviction. For her the heart of her work is “the betterment of myself, my people in the world, by any means necessary, using the art form to create change beyond our time on this Earth.”

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FRED POMPERMAYER

At Jaws in Hawaii in 2016, the powerful swell of El Niño met its match with pro surfer Kai Lenny.

R E N A I S S A N C E W A T E R M A N On the eve of his new series, Life of Kai, watersports master

Kai Lenny has reignited his creative spark back home in Hawaii, rediscovering why he fell in love with the ocean in the first place.

Words CHRISTINE YU

Lenny poses with the waves in front of his house in Paia, Maui, in October 2019.

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JAKE MAROTE

ai Lenny says he’s searching for pure entertainment. Isn’t he always? But since he’s been locked down at home on Maui since early spring, when COVID-19 scratched his plans for 2020, he’s had to settle for adventure closer at hand. Yes— it took a global pandemic to finally slow Kai Lenny down.

You can imagine that it took all of two minutes before the 27-year-old pro surfer started to get antsy. Even just talking on the phone, his infectious energy pours across the line and you know that he doesn’t like to sit still. After all, this is the same guy whose parents used to take him to the beach every day as a toddler to tire him out so he would sleep through the night. He’s used to jetting off on a plane every week or two.

“It’s the longest stretch I’ve been home probably since I was 12 or something,” he says.

That’s how he ended up sailing across the Kauai Channel on a foiling catamaran with two-time World Surf League champion John John Florence in July. “We were just on the phone talking, like, ‘Hey, we should do something fun.

What if we sailed your foiling boat from Oahu to Kauai? Let’s do it!’ ” Lenny says.

A week later they pushed off from Oahu on Florence’s Flying Phantom. It looks like a spaceship; the foil extends down from the bright-red hulls, lifting up the boat and allowing it to rocket across the surface of the water. Lenny and Florence dangled off the side somewhat precariously. Nine hours later they arrived in Hanalei, Kauai.

When asked about the crossing, Lenny says in his trademark stoked tone, “It was so much fun.”

But it was more than just the challenge of crossing the channel that excited Lenny. It was the spontaneity of it all. Normally it would take a year or more to pull off something like this.

Lenny and Florence (and their people) would have to coordinate their schedules. Between contests, sponsorship obligations and other projects, the chances of finding an

overlapping day or two when they’d both be home in Hawaii would be nearly impossible, not to mention a lot of hassle. But with both of their lives on hold, Lenny and Florence are free to do whatever they want in the interim.

This spontaneity is a major contrast to how Lenny typically leads his meticulously focused life chasing big projects and big goals. “He has this incredible can-do attitude—I can do that, I’m going to do that—when everyone is like, ‘You’re crazy, man.

You’re out of your mind,’ ” says Johnny Decesare, founder of Poor Boyz Productions, who has been filming the watersports prodigy since he was 11 years old. “He looks at things differently.

What he really sees is opportunity and possibility.”

And Lenny had ambitious plans for 2020: travel with his friends to chase gigantic waves on every big swell around the world, while also giving it his all on the competitive circuit. “Literally, as soon as I really committed to it, it was like the whole world came to a standstill,” he says.

While his goals are on hold (for now), his latest project, Life of Kai, which launches in October, offers a glimpse at some of the innovative and mindboggling things the pro athlete has been up to and is capable of. His other web series, Positively Kai and 20@20, which

Growing up in Maui, a young Kai Lenny found mentors among surf greats like Laird Hamilton, Dave Kalama and Robby Naish.

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debuted this summer, highlight Lenny’s fun adventures and insane, physicsdefying antics at home and abroad. Life of Kai, on the other hand, delves into what it really takes to be Kai Lenny.

“I think people see a general vision of most pro athletes, myself included, that you just go out and do this,” Lenny says. “I really wanted to capture what I have to go through—the good, the bad, the tough moments, everything that leads me to my best times, whether on top of the podium or riding the biggest wave of my life.” He wants to inspire people, too. “How much dedication are you willing to put toward something and how much passion is fueling that fire? That unrelenting determination has been the magic behind me. Hopefully, I inspire kids to follow their passion and think, If he can do it, I can do it,” he says.

The series was shot in the fall and winter of 2019/2020 and follows Lenny through an abbreviated big-wave season.

Sure, you get to see how Lenny preps his body and mind to surf massive conditions (and survive mighty wipeouts) at surf survival training camp, and how he puts those tools into action as he competes in the Jaws Big Wave Championships in December and the Nazaré Tow Surfing Challenge in February. But the series also gives you a better sense of who Lenny is and his approach—as someone who is constantly learning, innovating and is always 10 steps ahead of everyone else. You’ll see how he adapts to different situations, whether it’s equipment or technology failures or fickle weather systems, and how he refines his surfboards and hydrofoils.

Life of Kai really is just the life of Kai.

“Kai looks at things differently. What he really sees is opportunity and possibility.”

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FRED POMPERMAYER

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y now you probably know the story. Kai Lenny is the wunderkind whose parents moved to Maui to windsurf. He was a prodigious young windsurfer himself—a tiny kid flying high above the waves at Hookipa Beach Park who used to sew mini sails and kites during circle time at his Montessori school. His mentors include Laird Hamilton, Dave Kalama, Robby Naish and other famous pioneers who were literally inventing new ocean sports in his backyard. It rubbed off on Lenny.

He’s a stand-up paddle world champion many times over (winning his first title at age 18), winner of the grueling Molokai 2 Oahu Paddleboard World Championships and one of the most

Jaws, January 2015: Lenny puts up with the rain to find his pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

board since he was 16 years old. He’s able to perform so well precisely because of his windsurfing and kitesurfing background. People started to take notice, especially as Lenny began to focus more on surfing.

“They came to realize he’s not a onedimensional surfer but the complete package, from big waves to Sunset-style waves to Pipeline to shortboard aerial trick waves to incredible, giant towsurfing waves, who’s now a champion in the big-wave world,” says Decesare. In 2019 he racked up two big-wave awards: Men’s XXL Biggest Wave Award and Men’s Overall Performance Award. This year, he garnered five nominations across three categories for the 2020 Red Bull Big Wave Awards.

A big turning point came when Lenny began competing well on the bigwave circuit. He won the contest in Puerto Escondido in 2017. He backed that up by winning the Nazaré Tow Surfing Challenge with his teammate, Lucas “Chumbo” Chianca, last February.

Lenny and Chianca are friends and competitors. They were at surf survival camp together, which cemented their friendship and the blind faith that as partners they would pick each other up on a jet ski as 60-to-70-foot waves threaten to annihilate them. That rocksolid camaraderie allowed Lenny to enter the contest feeling calm, focused and collected.

Both surfers’ gifts for big waves were on full display in Portugal. “Lucas and I want to ride the biggest waves in the world, but not just ride them and survive. We want to perform and do huge maneuvers,” Lenny says. “My focus for years now has been how can I take snowboarding-type maneuvers and implement them into big-wave riding.

These guys can do it on huge mountains in Alaska. Why can’t I do it on huge waves in the ocean?” While others may have chosen a safer route to the shoulder, Lenny took different lines and flipped 360s while riding down the steep faces of Praia do Norte waves.

“I love the fact that ultimately I can achieve something I couldn’t do before. On top of that, I love the art form of it all.”

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JAKE MAROTE

dominant wind- and kitesurfers in the world. Yes, he surfs, too. He’s a fearless big-wave rider who can also kick some impressive aerials on a shortboard.

Lenny isn’t just a good athlete. He’s a gifted waterman. He has a keen vision of the ocean and looks at it differently than most people. “He sees the sea surface and what’s under the sea surface and uses that energy,” says Decesare. In big waves, Decesare says that Lenny’s mind is like a calculator, putting aside fear to work out different variables and factors. This gives him the confidence to perform in conditions that would make normal humans blanch.

It’s hard to imagine that the kid with the wide smile that hints of mischievousness and constant delight didn’t have a place in the lineup when he was younger. He wasn’t taken seriously, because he was a multi-sport athlete. His first loves were windsurfing, stand-up paddle and kitesurfing while everyone else was surfing. Even his mentors like Naish tried to prepare Lenny for the day when he’d have to set all other equipment aside and choose one sport. His dad, Martin, remembers watching other kids hassle his son and asking him if he just wanted to focus on surfing. Lenny looked at his dad and said, “Why would I want to do that? All the sports I do are so fun.”

In the back of his mind, Lenny knew he could be an all-around waterman. He loved the ocean and didn’t want to pigeonhole himself. He wanted to take advantage of whatever the conditions offered and use whatever equipment he needed to have a good time. But even as he became a gifted athlete and champion stand-up paddler, he still didn’t get much credibility. “Other surfers were like, ‘Stand-up paddle kid, windsurfer, weirdo.’ They didn’t really give him much credit as a surfer,” says Decesare.

It took a while for Lenny to gain the respect of his peers, and it was his bigwave surfing that helped him prove himself. Lenny has surfed the massive waves at Peahi, the famed Maui break also known as Jaws, on every type of

Moment of reflection: Lenny takes a break from his surf session at Hookipa on October 6, 2019.

“For me, it’s never been about beating someone else. It’s about beating myself.”

JAKE MAROTE

They looked like they were just having fun, too. You have a sense that Lenny and Chianca would be out there whether or not there was a contest running. They stayed in the water for two hours after the competition wrapped up because the waves were still pumping. Once they were out of the water, Lenny looked at images on a phone. He chuckled and said, “I love big-wave surfing.”

Still, despite his success and long overdue recognition within the surf community, you’d expect Lenny to have a little chip on his shoulder. Instead, he’s laser-focused on performing at the highest level and eliminating as many gray areas as possible.

“For me it’s never been about beating someone else. It’s always been about

beating myself,” he says. He loves rising to the occasion in competitions when he’s facing the best in the world. It forces him to push himself to the next level, to a place he wouldn’t go without the pressure—what he calls encouragement— of someone who rides better than he does. “The reason why I’ve been so consistent and getting better across all my sports stems from being purely passionate on the deepest level for what I do. I love the sports all the way down to the technical stuff, like my equipment. I love the fact that ultimately I can achieve something I couldn’t do before. On top of that, I love the art form of it all,” he says.

That relentless march toward progress and innovation is baked into his DNA. From an early age, his parents

helped him set goals, baby steps that would blaze a path to riding mountainsized waves. For example, when he was around 9 years old, his dad showed him the spot up at Hookipa where all the windsurfers eventually wind up. Martin taught him where to come in so he could climb across the rocks. “Eventually, when he would go out and push himself, he’d get clobbered. But you’d see him twinkle-toeing around the rocks. He knew what he was doing and he was fine,” recalls Martin.

When Lenny was in his early teens, he and his dad would sit down every year and plan out a road map of goals Lenny wanted to achieve. They continue to revisit the plan annually, tweaking it here and there and adding more to the

Daily acrobatics, October 2019: Lenny does a backflip on his foil board in the waves off of Hookipa.

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I

n some ways, being stuck at home during quarantine has been a throwback to old times. Lenny can toss equipment in the back of his truck and tackle whatever the conditions offer up that day: windsurfers, kites, wings and multiple boards painted cobalt blue with a red racing stripe down the middle, a nod to his love of Formula 1.

Maybe he’ll throw in some paddles for good measure. He’s also taken time to do things he normally doesn’t have time for when he’s home for short stints, like mountain biking, training on his brandnew road bike or hitting the gym. His dad says, “It’s been wonderful having Kai just be Kai at home and getting to know him again.”

When you give Lenny some leniency and freedom, it’s hard to keep up with him. Really, the constraints of being home have allowed Lenny to become even more creative. Instead of training for his next competition, meticulously checking his gear for his next trip or worrying about his sponsorship obligations, he’s been reconnecting with what he really wants to do.

“I’m able to focus on what caught my eye when I was a little kid and fell in love with the sport, which is the sport itself, versus the stuff surrounding it, you know?” he explains. He’s more concerned about perfecting the subtleties of various maneuvers, like the feeling of looking over his left shoulder when he does a flip while windsurfing, or really spotting the

landing when doing full 360 airs while surfing. He’s landed new tricks, too.

After cocooning at home for months rebuilding, training and gearing up without distractions and external obligations, it wouldn’t be surprising if Lenny explodes back onto the scene once competitions resume and travel restrictions are lifted. He says it’s given him a new perspective, one that’s more inward focused and analytical. Over the past few months, Lenny has tried to break down situations to understand what allows him to be who he is and have his best moments. “Is it when my gear is set up this way? Is it how I wake up or how I approach it? Do I like to be a little more relaxed or focused? That sort of thing will make me much more successful when it all returns,” he says.

And Lenny can’t wait for it all to return because he still has goals—many.

“With foiling, I want to ride huge swells in the middle of the ocean and travel from one land mass to another. With big-wave riding, I want to ride the biggest waves in the world and ride parts of the wave that either no one has ever done or only a very few people ever have,” he says. There may be a Life of Kai, Part 2 in the future, too. And that’s just off the top of his mind. There are plenty of missions he hasn’t even dreamed of yet.

“I just want to do everything. I’ll see someone across the world do something incredible and then I really want to do that. I’m so inspired by their approach.

For me, it’s more that I need to get to that point and then the actual destination of accomplishing it,” he says. “For the rest of my life, so long as I have goals ahead of me, I’ll always be entertained and having fun.”

“So long as I have goals ahead of me, I’ll always be entertained and having fun.”

FRED POMPERMAYER

list. Now, instead of plotting when he’ll become a world champion, his dad says Lenny’s thinking of more ambitious goals and charting a path toward a lifelong career as a professional athlete.

Photographer Fred Pompermayer took this otherworldly shot at Jaws in January: “Whenever Kai is in the water, I know something special will happen.”

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Win-Win Situation

Five years ago, there were only a handful of colleges with esports programs. Today there are more than 130. With the gaming industry exploding, savvy schools are attracting hungry students who seek careers in a wild new frontier of opportunities.

Words SCOTT JOHNSON

At the vanguard of collegiate esports, Full Sail University in Florida opened its $6 million gaming arena in May 2019.

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FULL SAIL UNIVERSITY

Full Sail student Megan Danaher is captain of the Armada’s Overwatch Varsity Squad.

ne Sunday morning in early March, Megan Danaher meanders through the Fortress, an indoor auditorium on the campus of Full Sail University, a twoyear college near Orlando, Florida, that prepares students for careers in the entertainment industry. The Fortress, which at 11,200 square feet is the largest collegiate arena for competitive video gaming, or esports, in the United States, reflects this academic mission. A giant screen hangs over a brightly lit stage where a banner reads “Hall of Fame Week.” The heavy beats of R&B music blare through enormous wall-mounted speakers. Camera operators and photographers surge through a crowd of young people, some of whom wear blackand-orange jerseys that signify their membership in Armada, Full Sail’s varsity esports team. Danaher strides confidently 58

toward a group of guys standing in a circle and takes off her sweatshirt, ruffling her bangs and revealing her own Armada jersey. Her gamer handle is stitched in block letters across her upper back: Peptoabysmal.

Danaher is the captain of Armada’s Overwatch Varsity Squad, and the team’s only woman. A first-person, team-based shooter game, Overwatch is defined by its fast pace and complex graphics. Several of Danaher’s teammates wear black face paint under their eyes, and now they crowd in close, jerseys shimmering in the strobes. There are Lleaf and Anarchy, Yakisoba, 2A1Z and Beaverbiskit. “I just washed my hands,” says Danaher. With the threat of COVID-19 just beginning to emerge, the organizers have provided Purell and disinfectant wipes, along with stickers to indicate whether someone THE RED BULLETIN

FULL SAIL UNIVERSITY

Danaher, aka Peptoabysmal, is the only woman on her team. Below: Hand sanitizer at an event in early March 2020.

prefers an elbow bump to a handshake, but people are still mingling. The group fidgets nervously, eager to take the stage for the upcoming tournament.

The Fortress is quickly filling to capacity in anticipation. The hall this day provides a smorgasbord of delights for a gamer—fierce competitions, deep expert commentary, practice sessions on stateof-the-art sponsored MSI Stealth computers, free swag and a chance to meet their favorite players. A dozen students from two League of Legends teams are already duking it out. The action is broadcast onto the giant screen.

Two commentators twirl pens between their fingers and call the action. In another corner a student is deep into an NBA 2K match with Toxsic, a professional gamer. From atop the stage, a host shouts, “Don’t go anywhere, ’cuz you THE RED BULLETIN

don’t wanna miss the next match!”

Armada’s Overwatch coach, an impish and enthusiastic semi-pro, convenes a quick huddle with his players. “What do we have to do?” he screams. “WIN!” comes the thunderous retort. Danaher, who, like everyone else at the conference in the early days of the pandemic, is sans mask, turns aside from the group and grimaces at her hands. “Ugh, I gotta wash ’em again now.”

The tournament at first is lopsided.

The fighters battle, shouting into their

headsets as fingers scamper over keyboards and mice. Pandemonium consumes the crowd. Armada esports teams are good. Really good. The challengers, Full Sail varsity hopefuls, can’t quite keep up. The looming rout doesn’t seem to dampen enthusiasm, though. A particularly vocal fan in the front row screams and hoots with utter abandon, jumping out of his seat, oblivious to stares, while behind him a young woman stares with quiet, rapt fascination at the onscreen drama. The whole event is being livestreamed on Twitch, the platform of choice for gamers the world over.

Esports has been growing as an industry for years. More recently, colleges have been getting in on the action. And for those that aren’t, perhaps they should be. Esports is set to surpass $1.5 billion in revenues by 2023, according to the Esports Ecosystem Report, published by Business Insider Intelligence. Meanwhile, the number of venture capital investments in esports doubled between 2017 and 2018, according to the accounting firm Deloitte, representing a more than 800 percent increase in actual dollars, to more than $4.5 billion. Nationwide, hundreds of schools have opened esports programs in recent years and more are on the way. Robert Morris University in Chicago, which merged with Roosevelt University this year, was the first school to embrace esports in 2014. Since then more than 130 collegiate programs have popped up all over the country, in dozens of states. They range from the small, like Roosevelt, to the big, like the University of California, Irvine, which was the first public university to create an esports program in 2015. In 2018, when Boise State University, in Idaho, opened its esports program, 20 students enrolled.

Last year there were 200 applicants.

Esports revenue is set to surpass $1.5 billion by 2023. Smart colleges are getting in on the action.

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“The whole esports space is full of problem solvers. They had to do that to get where they are.”

“The interest in our university based on esports is a big part of the conversation,” says Chris Haskell, who runs Boise’s program. “We advise colleges that are thinking about opening esports programs that whatever space they’re planning for in year one they need to have a plan for how to double that in year two,” says Michael Brooks of the National Association of Collegiate Esports, a governing body for college esports.

But there’s something else going on.

Gaming is the largest area of interest for males and females between the ages of 10 and 20, according to statistics compiled

by NACE. Those figures place gaming right at the cutting edge of a substantial shift in the corporate landscape of the future. An entire ecosystem is emerging that caters to virtually every aspect of creative and business life that could possibly spin out from the ubiquity of video games in modern life. Before the world went into a COVID lockdown, stadiums were routinely filled with tens of thousands of people for professional Overwatch League tournaments. The games’ viewership figures dwarfed those for more traditional sports leagues like the NFL or NBA. And increasingly, colleges are feeling the economic windfalls. NACE-registered schools

Before lockdown, stadiums were full of esports fans.

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gave out some $15 million in gaming scholarships during 2019.

In schools and corporate boardrooms across the country, a convergence of sorts is underway. On one side of the equation are employers looking for independent thinkers with a wide range of skills. That could mean the ability to manage an online community, or it could mean knowing how to build or jerry-rig a PC to work faster or better or with more graphics. On the other side is a massive gaming community that, by virtue of its problem-solving skills, is uniquely suited to meet that demand.

“If you want to be the best player at your chosen game, you had to have figured out a lot on your own,” says Brooks. “Employers are looking for people with these skills, and now they’re discovering through esports that there’s this whole subset of students who have these skills.” In other words, a timely and potentially very lucrative meeting of two demographics is unfolding, driving change in the college experience as well as the hiring process. “If you’re thinking of being a rapidly moving company, you want people with a technical ability on the software or hardware side, but you also need people who are good at problem solving, and the whole esports

FULL SAIL UNIVERSITY

Known as the Fortress, Full Sail’s esports arena is the largest in the country.

At 11,200 square feet, the facility can hold up to 500 spectators.

According to NACE, schools gave out some $15 million in gaming scholarships in 2019. Enrollment in esports and gaming programs is soaring.

Events at Full Sail are currently on hold, but if there’s any industry that can transition to a completely virtual new reality, it’s likely to be gaming.

“I would love to go full-time esports.

To live a comfortable life off of video games would be the dream.” space is full of problem solvers,” says Brooks. “They had to do that to get to where they are.”

With large-scale sporting events on hold—baseball and basketball seasons are underway again, but the roaring of the crowds has been replicated—live video-gaming tournaments are also on pause, at least for now. But if there’s any industry that stands a chance to transition to a completely virtual new reality, it’s likely to be gaming. Already, colleges are adapting. At Full Sail, where fully half of the students were remote learners to begin with, the entire student body had gone remote within a week of the first closures. Students there have continued their learning via Zoom and engaged more fully with each other through online club gatherings.

FULL SAIL UNIVERSITY

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ack in March, as Danaher and her teammates bask in their Overwatch victory, on the other side of the Fortress, Gus Hernandez rallies a crowd to the NBA 2K match.

Hernandez is a man happily defined by his hair—a glorious bouquet of lightred curls fashioned into an impressive Afro. (“I decided to own it,” he says.)

Hernandez is enrolled in Full Sail’s sportscasting degree program, and as he paces behind Toxsic, the pro gamer, he puts his skills to the test. “And . . . Booker moves, passes and . . . scores!” he says, seemingly delighted as much by the spotlight as by the game on the screen.

As a kid, Hernandez always wanted to be famous. Raised in a Brazilian family in north Boston, he grew up watching his stepfather play rounds of FIFA and Pro Evolution Soccer on a PlayStation 2 in the family’s modest two-bedroom apartment. Hernandez spent hours listening to legendary Boston sportscaster Jack Edwards broadcast local soccer games on an old radio and soon began to imagine himself behind the microphone.

He also started to appreciate the more “energetic, emotional commentary” of New England Revolution games he discovered on local Portuguese stations.

“That drew me in,” he says.

Hernandez was in his early teens when he first discovered Twitch, and he started

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commentating games on his own feed.

A company called Sinai Village found him and asked him to commentate several Pro Clubs soccer games. When he was 17, a league in the United Kingdom offered to fly him over to do one of their games.

The trip ended up being canceled, but a spark had been lit. As his Twitch feed grew, Hernandez branched out to other games, like Counter-Strike. Recently he opened up the Twitch stream for CounterStrike: Global Offensive and found that his own feed topped the list. “I would like to think those streams would be attracting organization owners,” he says. At age 19 he already has an enviable brand and a position in the marketplace that is likely to attract attention. “People tell me that I have a really exciting style of commentary,” he says.

These days, he commentates every major Super Smash Bros. event in

Florida, while also keeping up with nonsoccer games, too. “I would love to go full-time esports,” he says. “To live a comfortable life off of video games, something that was a safe haven for me growing up, would be the dream.” Until that happens, he would like to find a more traditional sportscasting job at a local network, or an ESPN. His dream of being famous has morphed only slightly.

“I always wanted to be some sort of talent, but I never thought it would be in sports,” he says. “With esports, it’s a realistic goal for me.”

The demand for people like Hernandez is exploding, even as an infrastructure to support their dreams continues to grow. Career choices abound: Shoutcasters to call games to millions of fans; managers to organize the growing number of live events, which are on par with or even surpass NFL or NHL audiences. Coders, designers, animators, copywriters, product managers, game designers and technicians—all are in high demand in the global entertainment marketplace.

This, then, is the boom that has everyone excited, not least the students themselves. “This is a whole different

Sportscasting major Gus Hernandez commentates esports games all across Florida.

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dynamic these days,” says Sari Kitelyn, who heads up Full Sail’s esports programs.

“Gaming can really bring you career opportunities.”

Sports, of course, have always offered avenues to employment. Traditional athletes have leveraged their skills in conjunction with sports management programs to find work off the field. But now, the skills and tools being developed within esports are presenting a different degree of opportunity. “Think about consumer brands and how they’re engaging with the public,” says NACE’s Brooks. “Almost all that is shifting to an online interaction, to managing communities, streaming, to livestreaming in particular, with personalities and events, and that’s where we see a ton of advertising, marketing and journalism interest, and esports is right there teaching people how to do that.”

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y early afternoon, the Fortress has begun to empty. Danaher, Hernandez and another Full Sail student, Erik Alpizar, take a break in a lounge area. Danaher munches on a cinnamon pretzel and talks about her two cats, Cookie and Gazlowe, who she named after a goblin in World of Warcraft. The conversation turns to games. Alpizar, who did a stint in the Navy, is a devoted player of Dragonball, a one-on-one fighting game. By his own reckoning, Alpizar is one of the top five players in Florida. (He placed 96th out of some 1,200 players in a Las Vegas tournament last year.) “When I was really in the thick of it, there was a month where literally on a Friday night I was driving to Tampa, and then on Saturday I was in Jacksonville, and then the following week I was in Miami. And then the week after that, I would be in Orlando

Full Sail student Erik Alpizar is a devoted player of the one-on-one fighting game Dragonball.

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“This is a whole different dynamic these days. Gaming can really bring you career opportunities.” make it more public. Hey, we’re from Pakistan. Hey, we’re from Jordan. Hey, we’re from all these places, all who can play.’ There’s a 7-year-old girl who won a Pokémon grand final from Indonesia.

It’s like this is our path to world peace.”

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FULL SAIL UNIVERSITY

Members of Armada, Full Sail University’s varsity esports team, go up against their Overwatch challengers.

at a venue they have over at a Buffalo Wild Wings.”

Alpizar tells Hernandez and Danaher about Arslan Ash, the Red Bull-sponsored Tekken player from Pakistan who seemingly came from out of nowhere to beat a South Korean master named Knee at the 2019 EVO event and took the mantle of world champion. Tekken had opened doors in unexpected ways for Pakistan and its people, he explains; a country often in the headlines for stories about terrorism or geopolitics was now making news about video games. “It was just an excellent thing in esports,” he says.

“There’s no negative connotation for people from Pakistan ’cause the common person doesn’t care. People that play games don’t care. With esports being global now and picking up steam, it’s so easy for any community to just step out and be like, ‘Oh, hey, we’re opening to THE RED BULLETIN

ull Sail’s Hall of Fame week has been an annual celebration for more than a decade. A select coterie of graduates who have done well in their chosen field and given back to the school in some way are invited back each year to be inducted and speak to current students. In that sense the school feels like the pipeline it advertises itself to be—a place where people who know, more or less, what they want to learn are connected with a workplace that wants their skills. “Everybody wants everybody to move,” Kitelyn says. “Everybody’s almost all in together to keep building and providing some infrastructure to the industry. Because obviously the economic impact has been huge so far.”

One graduate being honored in March is Erin Eberhardt, who graduated a decade ago and now works at Blizzard, the L.A.-based gaming giant. Raised on a 7-acre plot in rural Ohio, Eberhardt was a free-range child, but in the evenings the family gathered to watch her father, an air traffic controller, game with friends. “We had chairs sitting behind Dad, and we’d be all like peering over and would pop out, just screaming like maniacs, like little kids.” Eberhardt went to a traditional university but found it uninspiring. She got a Full Sail degree in 2010. When she entered the job market, YouTube and other streaming services were just ramping up. Twitch didn’t yet exist. She got a job at Disney working in development and then moved over to PlayStation for five years.

Esports experienced a surge in 2016 when the Overwatch League was announced. Eberhardt applied to the game’s maker, Blizzard Entertainment, and got hired. Since then she’s seen a steady influx of professionals from other sectors into the gaming world. “We’re seeing a lot of people from traditional TV and film coming in, a lot from the NFL, the NBA,” she says. “We just have this

amazing nexus of these awesome minds all working together on this product.”

She predicts that the next generation of hires is going to come straight from the world of collegiate esports. “This is exactly what is growing the next future generation of who is working in esports,” she says. “It’s in the collegiate level.

Pretty much every single major [at Full Sail] could find themselves working in esports at one point because it’s kind of ‘all hands on deck’ right now.” Full Sail is feting Eberhardt in part for her role in staging a massive live event last year around a game called Hearthstone.

Danaher, one of Eberhardt’s mentees, views the Hearthstone event as a key moment in her own development. “It was perfect,” she says.

The arc of Danaher and Eberhardt’s respective trajectories in some sense mirrors the growth of the industry.

A decade ago, when Eberhardt was entering the job market, gaming was still an incipient industry. Full Sail didn’t have an esports team. Now Danaher’s options stretch out attractively in multiple directions. Like Eberhardt, Danaher grew up gaming. “I was the nerdy girl that liked video games,” she says. She did theater and sports, too, and thrived on the team sports environment and the human connection. Now she

Full Sail alum Erin Eberhardt now works at Blizzard Entertainment.

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It’s not just kids playing video games that has executives from Hollywood to Orlando drooling.

The Full Sail University campus in Winter Park, Florida.

studies creative writing. Danaher’s ideal job would be to stage the kinds of massive live events that draw hundreds of thousands of people to arenas around the world for gaming events. Her parents have come around to her point of view.

“Back then they were probably like, ‘Get off those stupid games and do your homework’ sort of thing,” she says. “But now they kind of see, like, yeah, there actually are jobs here. She’s not just goofing off.”

After graduating this coming October, Danaher will begin a master’s degree program in sports management at Full Sail. She envisions a career devoted entirely to esports involving project management, team management and team building. She has her eye set on an outfit in Texas that runs an esports stadium. “I would help build the team, manage the team, make sure that they’re getting their practices, they’re sleeping right. Making sure that their mental health is still doing OK,” she says. “I just want to do things that help build a team up, like things that I’m doing right now, but in a larger capacity that I get paid for.”

Full Sail University began in a truck, literally, a 26-foot GMC motor home. It was first conceived as a mobile recording studio where artists could learn the basics of music production in short, goal66

oriented sessions. Today the campus consists of several single-story buildings tucked away in an otherwise mostly empty grid of office spaces and small businesses in Winter Park, Florida, in suburban northeast Orlando. Its graduates have gone on to work in the biggest studios in Hollywood, including Netflix, Amazon and Disney. Every single Marvel film that has appeared in theaters to date has at least one, and often more than one, Full Sail graduate. The School of Sportscasting is named after famed SportsCenter alum and radio host Dan Patrick, who is a frequent visitor. Dave Arneson, the creator of Dungeons & Dragons, taught game design at the school until 2008. With courses costing $450 an hour, it isn’t cheap. But applications continue to stream in.

I

t’s not just kids playing video games that has executives from Hollywood to Orlando drooling. It’s all the other stuff. “Twitch has about a thousand job openings right now but they don’t have candidates for those skill sets,” says NACE’s Brooks. Computer engineers, database managers and sound engineers, especially those who have a solid background in gaming, are in demand.

“We hear the same thing for Microsoft.

They’re naturally seeing that their current employees are also gamers.

That’s where they’re getting employees from. That’s the population they want to get in front of.”

This is driving meaningful connectivity between the corporate landscape and the collegiate one. It actually starts even earlier than that.

“You’re going to have some of these semi-trained, semi-pro kids that are coming out of high school being recruited into collegiate programs,” says Eberhardt. “They’re being recruited for the skills that they have in their gaming.” She points to the Overwatch tournament inside the Fortress, and the entire Hall of Fame experience at Full Sail. “Those were all students,” she says.

“The sound guys, all the runners, the PAs, the lighting, the rigging—all a student-run production. That kind of experience is exactly what we’re looking for at studios.”

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FULL SAIL UNIVERSITY

At Full Sail tournaments, it’s a totally studentrun production, from the PAs to the lighting, sound and rigging people.

It’s the end of the day at Full Sail and a crowd starts to gather in front of a large outdoor stage where a screen has been set up behind a pair of chairs and a game console. As the audience begins to fill in, Hernandez and Alpizar take the stage. Full Sail’s Armada Smash Bros. team will be taking on challengers from the audience. A few brave souls take the stage. Elijah. Then Kenneth. They both lose. The crowd starts warming up. The next contestant, Logan, puts up more of a fight. More people sit down, settling in for a long evening of video gaming. On stage Hernandez and Alpizar are finding their rhythm. The warm Florida air is soothing. A steady thump of dance music wafts in from somewhere else on campus. You get the sense, on this pleasant evening, that everyone who is here is exactly where they want to be.

“This is esports, baby!” Alpizar shouts.

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Employers everywhere from Twitch to Microsoft are looking for applicants with a gaming background.

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LET’S MAKE AN ORDEAL

Cooped up by COVID, a crew of Wyoming outdoor athletes concoct an informal but intense mountain triathlon in their own backyard. The so-called Laramie Brunch—which combines biking, climbing and a glacial-lake crossing—is a tough reminder that one does not need airlines or mass-start events to rediscover the soul and hard-earned joys of adventure.

Words MARK JENKINS Photography GREG MIONSKE

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Two competitors in the Laramie Brunch pick their way up the technical face of the Diamond in Wyoming’s Snowy Range. At the top, they’ll be halfway home in this homegrown adventure triathlon.

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he lake is calm and the skies are

leaden. We were hoping for a Rocky Mountain dawn—pink welkin with the promise of warm sunshine—but it is not to be. Dark clouds roll right above our helmeted heads, enveloping the towering rock ramparts. If it starts to rain, or more likely snow, our mission is over.

We are shivering when we finally dismount from our heavily loaded steeds. It is daybreak, bleak and desolate. We’ve bicycled 45 miles and gained 4,000 feet—from the benighted plains at 7,000 feet up to Lake Marie, at almost 11,000 feet, in the Snowy Range of southeastern Wyoming. Martha can’t feel her feet. Justin’s on the edge of bonking. Alice is being stoic. We all pound trail food for the calories of heat and slug back electrolyte-laced water.

“Critical Error #1,” says Martha. “I didn’t bring enough warm clothes.”

I’d told her that her puffy winter jacket was overkill for this undertaking, so she left it at home.

But now I see that there is still deep snow in the couloirs between the stone faces.

To warm up, we do jumping jacks together along the shore of the lake.

We are two teams: Justin and Alice; Martha, my fiancée, and I. Justin unstraps a packraft from the handlebars of his mountain bike and I pull one from my panniers. We set to work inflating our tiny boats.

Martha packs our rope and climbing gear and harnesses into two dry bags. Alice does the same with their mountain climbing equipment.

Both packrafts, 4-pound inflatable baby boats, are meant for one person, not two, let alone the addition of two heavy sacks of climbing gear. Our biggest fear is capsizing. Lake Marie was frozen solid a month ago, so the water is unbearably cold. Heart attack cold. We don’t have wetsuits. I admonish Martha to be careful as she gets into the raft.

“I know, I know,” she replies.

She delicately kneels in the bow and I get into the stern, my knees almost against her back. We push gently away from the bouldery bank and begin to paddle in unison, our two dry bags of climbing gear bobbing along behind us on a cord.

I’m immediately paddling too hard.

“Don’t go all Lewis and Clark,” Martha says.

I try to stay calm and match her pace.

The water, thankfully, is tranquil. We paddle silently through the black water like Vikings on a raid. Trout are leaping here and there, their rings

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expanding. Massive-antlered moose lurk along the shore, concealed in the shadows of the forest. A bald eagle, its white head visible against the black clouds, circles above us. The world is silent.

Gliding across this alpine tarn, it feels as if we are floating through another time. A time before cars and traffic, overpopulation and pollution. A time when the sky and the earth, the lakes and the woods and the stars, were still part of a human’s life. A time that kept quiet and remained humble, confident in the intrinsic value of its own stark serenity.

We thought it might take us an hour to raft across Lake Marie (named after the first woman to be THE RED BULLETIN

The confinement of COVID-19 had been driving us crazy. We had to do something big, hard—and close.

Harper, Large and Joel ride back to Laramie as an evening storm rolls in.

elected to the Wyoming State Legislature, in 1910)— especially if the wind kicked up. Instead, stroking in synchronization across the velvety water, humming “Lake Marie” by John Prine, we make the half-mile crossing in 10 minutes. Alice and Justin follow close behind us, paddling smoothly, soundlessly.

When our packraft bumps against the boulders, Martha clambers out with a grin. “That was more enjoyable than I expected,” she whispers brightly.

“Leg two, of six, completed!” I reply.

We pull the raft out of the water and place rocks inside it to keep it from blowing away. We open our Walmart dry bags and are dismayed to find they are THE RED BULLETIN

filled with lake water. All our gear is soaked, but there’s nothing we can do. We cinch on our climbing harnesses, bandolier the climbing gear and slings across our chests, clip our rocks shoes to our harnesses and start tramping up the talus. Alice and Justin are just behind us.

We have crossed the moat and are now working our way to the castle walls. Clouds have kept the sky dark, but the fat, furry marmots, whistling to one another, sound the alarm of our approach.

We reach the base of the 700-foot face of the Diamond, put on our rock shoes and begin to climb, silently storming the castle.

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The Brunch delivered on all counts—technical challenges, scenic vistas and socially distanced camaraderie, all followed by pizza and beer.

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Martha, the author, Justin and Alice celebrate a surprisingly quick ascent.

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he confinement of COVID-19 had been driving us crazy. We had to do something.

Something big but close. Something hard but possible. Something fun!

“Ever heard of the Jackson Hole Picnic?” Martha asked me one afternoon. She’d lived in Jackson for a summer.

I shook my head.

“It’s a mountain triathlon. Bike 20 miles from Jackson to Jenny Lake, swim the 1.3 miles across, hike up the Grand Teton—over 7,000 vert—then reverse it all.”

“Sounds like a solid day,” I said.

“We should create our own picnic,” said Martha.

“Right here in Laramie.”

We googled the Jackson Hole Picnic. It was the brainchild of writer/photographer David Gonzales.

After failing twice, he finally did the picnic in 2012: 23 hours out and back. Gonzales says he named it the picnic for two reasons: “You gotta bring a lot of food, and it’s not an organized event.” Gonzales has since created a few other picnics in mountain towns in Montana and the Northwest. Always, participants have to do it on their own, totally self-supported.

In truth, mountain climbers have been pedaling to their projects for at least a century. In 1931, alpinist brothers Franz and Toni Schmid bicycled from Munich, 200 miles south through the Alps to the base of the Matterhorn, made the first ascent of the notorious North Face and then rode back home.

Moreover, the word “picnic” has been used ironically in many alpine climbing tales, most notably in Felice Benuzzi’s 1946 picaresque classic No Picnic on Mount Kenya. Benuzzi and two other Italians were being held as WWII POWs in Kenya.

They escaped the prison camp at night, trekked for days, climbed the north face of Mount Kenya, then returned across the savannah and snuck right back into the POW camp. Glorious!

In five minutes, Martha and I mapped out our own six-leg picnic: Bike 45 miles from the Pedal House bike shop in Laramie, Wyoming, up to the Snowy Range; cross Lake Marie by any means; ascend the Medicine Bow Diamond—five pitches of technical rock climbing—choosing your own route, 5.5 to 5.11; run or rapel off the mountain; recross Lake Marie; ride back to Laramie.

“You can get across Lake Marie any way you want—swim, paddle, canoe—but everything has to be carried on your bike up and back,” she declared.

“Boats, ropes, climbing gear, PFDs!?”

“Everything.”

After watching a couple YouTube Jackson Hole Picnic vids, Martha said, “Looks too much like a bro fest. We should require male/female teams.”

The next day we pitched our idea to Joel Charles, chief bike mechanic at the Pedal House.

“I like the co-ed requirement,” said Joel.

“Sausage and eggs! Why don’t we call it the ‘Laramie Brunch?’ ” So we did.

It would be a local event for local outdoor athletes. No sponsors, no professional athletes, no prizes. You ride your own bike, whatever it may be,

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climb with your own gear and wear your own clothes. By the end of the week, we had four 2-person teams: Justin Bowen, 28, a serious rock climber and grad student (in watershed management) who has lived in Jackson Hole for six years; and his partner Alice Stears, 26, serious cyclist and Ph.D. candidate (in botany), who once rode from Missoula, Montana, to Eugene, Oregon.

Martha Tate, 32, an emigration attorney, ice climber, globetrotter and adventure gal; with me, 61, as her comrade.

Amanda Harper, 30, a mountain guide, mountain bike racer, co-director of the University of Wyoming outdoor program; and Joel Charles, 42, sometime climber and former bike racer, father of Josie, 3.

Matt “Large” Hebard, 43, a former savage bike racer and present savage ice climber, father of two sweet daughters; and a mysterious female partner none of us had ever met. Large insisted her name was Rihanna and claimed she was a CrossFit badass, gorgeous as a model.

It would be a local event for local outdoor athletes. No sponsors, no professional athletes, no prizes.

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We scheduled the Laramie Brunch for the last weekend of July. Boulder-based photographer Greg Mionske drove up to document the fiasco, and my daughter, Addi, volunteered to be safety boater and cheerleader (she made posters—“Are U Suffering Yet?” “How About Now?” and “Home Stretch”—and would wave them, shouting much-needed encouragement, throughout the Brunch).

In terms of technical skills, the hardest part of the Brunch would be climbing the chossy, 700-foot, glass-slick quartzite face of the Snowy Range Diamond. Because the rockfall risks on this obscure wall are so substantial, nobody climbs there except a handful of locals. Indeed, the chances of getting whacked by a falling rock were great enough that we decided only two teams could climb on the wall at the same time, on two separate routes, 200 horizontal feet apart. Two teams would do the Brunch on Saturday, the other two on Sunday.

It wasn’t a race. It wasn’t meant to be a sufferfest.

The point was simply to push ourselves with friends in the mountains—and to finish.

The risk of rockfall is high enough that teams agreed to climb 200 feet apart.

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ff belay,” I shout down at Martha, 200 feet off the deck on the Diamond. I have been careful not to knock rocks on her. We are on a route called Overhang Direct, first climbed in 1959 by K. Hull and R. Nessle. They rated it grade III, F-7, A-2—the modern YDS climbing grade is perhaps 5.9R. I gobble a PBJ while Martha climbs. When she gets to my stony ledge, she traverses over to the anchors, only to discover that the nylon webbing we put in just last weekend has been chewed through by marmots, the devil’s scouts.

Unbelievably, the next set of anchors, over 300 feet in the air, are also munched by marmots.

Luckily, above the third pitch—the money pitch, the big overhang with lots of exposure and razor-sharp rock—the anchors are still intact. I lead the fourth pitch, Martha quickly leads the fifth pitch and we run to the summit together. We have taken the castle.

“Halfway!” I yell.

“Two and a half hours,” says Martha. “Our fastest ascent yet.”

Surprisingly, the clouds have thinned and the weather improved. We can see far down onto the high plains, almost making out Laramie 45 long miles away.

“It’s all downhill from here,” I say.

“We still have to paddle back across the lake,” Martha reminds me.

Martha eats her PBJ while I peer over the cliff looking for Alice and Justin. They are climbing a different route, called the Red Spot, first ascended

by R. Frisby, R. Jacquot and J. Mathiesen in 1965.

I can’t see my friends and call down into space.

An unintelligible reply wafts up the wall.

The threat of rain has vanished—we can relax.

There is nothing quite so piquant as sitting on top of a mountain you have just climbed, staring out over the landscape. You are filled with a profound sense of satisfaction. You can sense the magnetic power of the planet. The earth, after all, is just a big round stone. When we are gone, geology will continue.

After an hour Alice and Justin top out. We take the obligatory summit photo—all of us hugging and yahooing—then start hiking down the trail. Back at our boats in half an hour, we repack the dry bags and prepare to paddle.

“I can’t believe how calm the water still is,” says Alice.

The Norse gods are smiling down at us and we know it.

We slide back across shimmering Lake Marie, the water having transformed in the past few hours from murky black to teal blue. Again, John Prine’s song floats with me.

“Five legs finished,” says Justin as we haul our boats up out of the water. “One leg left.”

We take our time collapsing our packrafts, rolling them up and securing them to the bicycles. We dip water from the lake and drop in iodine pills. We eat again. I realize I have a flat and pump up my tire.

Everything feels natural and unhurried.

We saddle up and begin to ride. In just two miles, we surmount the 11,000-foot pass, called THE RED BULLETIN

Hard pulls: Crossing Lake Marie in a boat built for one (left) and riding in a paceline on the way back to Laramie.

Libby Flats, abruptly stop pedaling and fly down the mountain.

At the base of the Snowy Range is a mountain town called Centennial, population 250. Centennial is 30 miles from Laramie and according to our selfconcocted Brunch rules, food and beverages obtained in Centennial are allowed. We had passed through this one-horse town before dawn when everything was closed. There was a headwind and we were naturally looking forward to a tailwind on the way home. Alas, during the day the wind shifted 180 degrees, so now we have a headwind riding back.

This seems downright unfair, so we dismount, stable our steeds, pull up chairs on the patio at the Bear Bottom Bar and Grill and order pitchers of cold beer and platters of tater tots.

“I thought this was going to be a sufferfest,” says Martha, popping a tot in her mouth.

“Me too,” adds Alice.

Pouring himself another beer, Justin says, “I feel better already!” Justin is riding his fat-tired mountain bike with clipless pedals but no cleats on his shoes. This doesn’t bother him a bit.

I’m sure there are serious cyclists who would question the wisdom of stopping for pints of strong IPA before riding the final 30 miles of a mountain triathlon, but that’s just the way we do it in Wyoming. Besides, tater tots have been scientifically proven to be the perfect food for long bike rides.

We hang out eating and drinking and telling stories for two hours before finally saddling up and riding away. We are ostensibly two teams of two, but in actuality, from the first minute on our bikes, we have been a team of four.

With encouragement from Greg and Addi every 10 miles, we roll back into Laramie just after 5 p.m.: 15 hours for 90 miles of biking, 1 mile of boating, a thousand feet of rock climbing and several long rest-and-fuel breaks.

Martha and I sleep like dead Vikings but manage to rally the next morning, drive up into the Snowies and hike up the back of the Diamond by 11 a.m.

Greg is leaning over the face taking photos and fiddling with his drone.

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The two Sunday teams—Harper and Joel, Large and Rihanna—are somewhere on the face below.

Martha and I drink cold beers waiting for them to summit, shouting down words of harassment. They too chose to start at the Pedal House at 2 a.m.

They’ve been moving for over 10 hours when they finish the wall and clamber onto the top of the Diamond. But look! There are only three of them.

Martha and I were expecting to meet Large’s glamorous hotshot.

“Where’s Rihanna?” I cry.

The threesome break into laughter.

We have been snookered. Rihanna never existed.

The CrossFit babe was only an adventure avatar.

Large couldn’t find a female partner so he made one up for us. They worked together as a threesome all along. They even wore matching red onesies!

Harper carried her gear on her cross bike, using a giant seat bag and handlebar bag. Joel rode one of his old steel-frame racing bikes with no panniers or gear, but tethered to the front of Large; Large rode his 40-pound, $5,000 cargo bike with almost all the team gear—ropes, wetsuits, everything—in a big black box. It was not a happy arrangement.

“The ride up here totally crushed me,” admits Large, standing on the summit of the Diamond. He looks dead and is only halfway done.

They opt to rappel the face while Martha, Greg and I walk down. Back at the edge of Lake Marie, the threesome slowly stretch into full-length wetsuits.

They will swim rather than paddle. They pull on large rubber flippers, step into the water backwards and then, using dry bags for flotation, start swimming.

Their crossing of Lake Marie is painfully slow because Large barely knows how to swim.

“I hate water!” Large bellows. He is on his back, holding the dry bag on his chest like an otter,

In terms of technical skills, the hardest part of the Brunch would be climbing the Snowy Range Diamond.

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The Laramie Brunch is like any other triathlon that includes technical rock climbing in matching onesies and midride stops for tater tots.

kicking as best he can. But he doesn’t know how to flutter kick. Instead, he kicks as if he were pedaling a bike, frantically pounding his legs straight down.

Martha, Greg and I are in the safety canoe and find it all hilarious. Large disagrees. “This is the longest I’ve been in the water in my life!” he yells.

Joel and Harper seem to be having a good time, flutter kicking and chatting away. They swim beside Large as psychological support. At one point, I truly worry for him. His face is gray and his eyes pinched.

He looks like he might start sinking. Nevertheless, he eventually makes it to the far shore.

“I told you I hate water!” he roars from the bank.

They all drink mimosas with friends and family alongside Lake Marie, drying out their wetsuits in the sun, while we load the canoe back onto my car.

Large rallies with a little beverage.

Eventually the threesome saddle up and grind slowly up over the pass. On the way down out of the 76

mountains, Large never touches his brakes. He passes us at 50 mph. They buy snacks in Centennial but do not tarry. The weather, which had been bluebird all day, is turning. Thunderclouds are filling the sky, casting black shadows across the plains. The wind is blowing uncharacteristically from the east. An upslope wind portends poor weather in these parts.

Large, Joel and Harper battle this headwind all the way back to Laramie. It looks exhausting. On a bike, wind is always worse than an uphill. They are racing directly into a storm, hoping to beat it, and they almost do. Just two miles from Laramie they get caught—buckets of rain and pelting hail. The wind swirls like a dervish. To the north, they spot a funnel cloud, which gives them sufficient inspiration to get the damn ride done. Sometime after 6 p.m. they slosh up to the Pedal House: more than 16 hours of suffering.

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hat night Martha and I had a party at our house for everyone who had made the inaugural Laramie Brunch a success. We had boxes of local pizza and all kinds of local beer. Addi made twice-baked potatoes that disappeared immediately.

Justin showed up first with more beer. He was in high spirits.

“I feel great!”

He said he actually had gone to the gym in the afternoon. It was too wet to climb hard so he pumped iron instead.

Justin and I immediately started planning our next adventure together: a new route on the north face of the Grand Teton.

Alice arrived next. She cycled to our house in the pouring rain, not giving it a thought. She looked like she was ready to do it all over again. “I feel just fine,” she said brightly. She was leaving the next morning for a backpacking trip across the Gros Ventre mountain range in northern Wyoming.

Harper showed up with more beer and friends.

“I’ll do it next year!” she said excitedly.

When Large and Joel finally arrived, Large was wearing an expedition down parka, he was still so cold. He was wiped. He slouched on the couch and

Everyone had a tale of struggle and perseverance, failure and triumph.

Everyone had their own epic.

could barely speak. Perhaps the gods were punishing him for poaching the event without a proper partner.

But Joel was in fine form, telling stories of his bike-racing days in Boulder. He hadn’t ridden a bike for a decade—he claimed to have trained for the Laramie Brunch by drinking one less beer a day—and thanked Martha for coming up with an adventure that got him back on the bike. He said the final stretch into Laramie brought back corporeal feelings he hadn’t had since he stopped racing.

We all told stories. That’s what we humans do.

Martha told one about running a half marathon in the excruciating heat of Alexandria, Egypt. Justin had a tale of living in a van and ice climbing in Kyrgyzstan. I told a story of getting sepsis on a bike ride across Russia.

Everybody had their own tale of struggle and perseverance, failure and triumph. Everyone had their own epic. That is the nature of the tribe of outdoor athletes.

As everyone was leaving, Alice thanked us and said, “The whole reason I did this was I needed something to look forward to. COVID has made us feel like prisoners. This was a wonderful escape!”

Felice Benuzzi, World War II POW, would be proud.

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GLORIOUS SOCIAL DISTANCE

Solitude is bliss on Lake Powell.

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Getting away from it all is hard when everyone is trying to do the same thing. Here are four ways to get creative—and cut yourself off from the crowds.

Words WILL COCKRELL

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Do it Discover Public Lands SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS, CALIFORNIA

California’s Sierra Nevada mountain range, which runs 400 miles from the Mojave Desert to Oregon, is home to the state’s most celebrated natural wonders. It’s a place where you can climb the Lower 48’s highest peak, Mount Whitney, one day and hug the world’s largest tree the next; spend half your trip touring Yosemite National Park and the other half floating on the emerald waters of Lake Tahoe.

Understandably, campgrounds in the area are almost always running at capacity—which is why those in the know have cut the campground cord.

“The area is overwhelmingly public lands,” says Bureau of Land Management (BLM) Bishop Field Manager Steve Nelson. “You won’t come across many “no trespassing” signs and there is still a high level of self-discovery here.”

Specifically, Nelson is referring to BLM and Forest Service land, where camping is actually allowed almost anywhere—as long as you are versed in Leave No Trace practices and respectful of things like seasonal fire restrictions and no-go zones near trailheads, main roads or designated campgrounds.

Simply familiarizing yourself with which agency manages what (and mastering the art of car camping off-grid) is like having a skeleton key to secret campsites in some of the most beautiful swaths of wilderness in America.

In the Sierra, there are beautifully secluded pit stops just a few miles off the east side’s main artery, U.S. Route 395. The Alabama Hills, a BLM-managed stretch of high desert, full of RV-sized boulders, has many dirt roads that take you far beyond the day-trippers. Two more options: Find a secluded spot near Mammoth Lakes and

Skip the campgrounds and find your own secret campsite.

enjoy an outdoor pint in town, or park near Lee Vining Creek as a launchpad for day trips into Yosemite (bandit camping is strictly prohibited within most national parks).

The next level is exploring the network of dirt roads that crisscross Forest Service land and take you deeper into the mountains. Many of the unmaintained roads between Isabella Lake and Sequoia National Park lead to such

Rush-hour traffic on Lake Tahoe’s Emerald Bay.

isolated alpine valleys, you could ignore the must-see stuff altogether, set up near a bubbling river and stay put for an entire week.

Nelson notes that not every dirt road leads to a parking spot in paradise. And if it does, you may not be alone. He urges you to simply keep exploring. “No one gives away their favorite spot anymore,” he says. “Which is why it gets tougher every day to find them.” Of course, that’s probably a good thing.

Make it happen: Off-grid adventures on public lands require next-level carcamping and leave-no-trace skills. The best resources for identifying boundaries are your GPS or map apps like Cal Topo, which typically have a feature showing colorcoded agency boundaries.

The BLM and Forest Service websites list all the rules and regulations for using the land safely and respectfully.

Mastering the art of camping offgrid is like having a skeleton key to secret campsites in the most beautiful spots.

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Remote Getaways

Pololu Valley has a classic hike that ends at a black-sand beach.

The Waipio Valley has breathtaking views—and truly breathtaking hikes.

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Quarantine in Paradise HAWI, HAWAII

When the state of Hawaii announced a mandatory 14day quarantine upon arrival, many decided to put their vacations on hold. For others, however, a vacation is a quarantine of sorts, and there’s no better place to stay put than the remote northern tip of the Big Island, where lush cliffs plunge into the sea and the locals like a lot of space. “It’s a little like Oregon meets the tropics,” says Bruce Bromberg, the revered chef and co-founder of the Blue Ribbon restaurants, who moved to the Big Island in 2015. “There’s almost no one living next to someone else and it’s the perfect place to destress and decompress.”

The island of Hawaii— which shares the same name as the state itself—is five times larger than the second biggest (Maui), with nearly the samesize population. Bromberg fell in love with the Big Island

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during a James Beard celebrity chef event. A year later, he, his wife and his daughter moved to Puako, a low-key town halfway between Kona and an idyllic outpost in the north called Hawi. Hawi is a place that somehow remains remote and undiscovered-feeling, despite being the turnaround point for the annual Ironman Triathlon in October.

In Hawi, house-arrest is not a bad thing, especially if you rent an isolated plantation cottage with wraparound decks and sea views, and several acres between you and your nearest neighbor. Most rentals sit on huge parcels of land, and Bromberg says the town itself has a deep local Hawaiian vibe. There is a kava tea hut, an Alpaca farm and a penchant for living off-grid.

“The local Kohala Grown Market makes these great smoothies,” he says. “We come here and get fruit I’ve never seen or heard of in my life.”

Bromberg heads north to hang in Hawi every chance he can get, often on his way to go hiking in one of the five stunning valleys that converge at the end of the tiny Kohana Mountain Road, Route 270. Each valley radiates away from the sea within two huge natural reserves. Closest to Hawi is the Pololu Valley. “We hike down the cliff to a stunning black-sand beach that’s

great for swimming,” says Bromberg. “People disappear into these valleys for days, camping.” The furthest, Waipio Valley, is the most well known but is typically accessed from the east, rather than through Hawi. The best part: Even when things return to normal and Hawaii does fully open to tourists, little will change in Hawi because the tourists never came here in the first place.

Make it happen: Pay close attention to the state’s rules around outside visitors and triple check with your rental host about regulations on their end—both can be fluid these days.

Contemplate world peace in Pololu.

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Do it Go Back in Time BOLD COAST, MAINE

A four-hour drive northeast of Portland, Maine, just beyond the historic fishing village of Lubec, is a lighthouse.

Geographically speaking, this lighthouse is officially the easternmost point in the United States, punctuated severely by the steep and craggy cliffs above the Bay of Fundy, across the U.S.-Canada border. And Lubec is a town that truly feels like the end of the road. The town of about 1,500 salty souls is in fact largely cut off from industry, technology and even tourism.

The weather isn’t just small talk here—it’s a throwback town where livelihoods depend on understanding tides and predicting low pressure systems. It also happens to bookend some of the best hiking and camping in the Northeast.

Lubec is also the easternmost point of what is known as “the Bold Coast”— an empty stretch of coastline between Milbridge and Lubec that has so many nooks,

Lubec has authentic throwback charm.

crannies, caves and cliffs, it makes Cape Cod look like the Hamptons. While it may not be all that surprising that you can get a world-class lobster roll at places like Quoddy Bay Lobster, few people realize that the state’s best wilderness experience is actually an hour beyond Maine’s natural crown jewel, Acadia National Park. The Bold Coast has dozens of state reserves and wildlife refuges, both inland and along the coast. Lubec’s Coastal Trail, within the 532-acre Quoddy Head State Park, soars along hundred-foot cliffs before dropping onto a crescent of sea-sculpted cobblestones.

Leaving Lubec, headed back toward Portland, the Bold Coast Scenic Byway (which parallels much of the Bold Coast’s Scenic Bikeway) passes dozens more spots for coastal hiking and camping, as well as fresh seafood in small fishing villages. Cutler is a good jumping-off point for multi-day Lost Coast-style adventures along the Fairy Head Loop, a 10-miler in the

The West Quoddy lighthouse marks the easternmost point in the U.S.

Cutler Coast Public Reserve, dotted with primitive camping sites and side trips for whale watching. While most reserves in the area have primitive walk-in camping options, there are a few established campgrounds. One of the best, McClellan Park campground, is in fact right at the beginning of the Byway (if traveling east to west).

Fall presents a particularly unique opportunity on the Bold Coast. Even during “high season” it’s pretty quiet here. But by October, locals begin drinking at the bars again, seasonal inns shutter and the sea begins to stir.

Of course, sunshine is a rarity this time of year, but the Bold Coast is that rare place where moody weather actually enhances the experience.

Make it happen: There are direct flights to Portland from all over the U.S. It is always important to respect the most current regulations regarding travel into Maine, and the safety of the small communities that live along the Bold Coast.

Admit it: You want a lobster roll.

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Remote Getaways

Serenity meets adventure on a Lake Powell houseboat trip.

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Hire a Houseboat LAKE POWELL, ARIZONA

Houseboating might have a bit of an image problem— floating RVs are not exactly subtle. But the truth is a multiday cruise on one of America’s most stunning lakes is the rare vacation that blends serenity, fun and adventure. Captaining a vessel into an empty cove is exploration at its finest; careening from the top deck into the water using the boat’s waterslide—while holding a beer—brings out your inner 7-year-old; watching the sun set over national parkland, as the Milky Way appears above you, is as close to backpacking as you can get without a heavy pack.

America’s houseboating mecca is Lake Powell on the Utah-Arizona border, where the Colorado River meets the Glen Canyon Damn to create a 186-mile-long reservoir, with 96 major side canyons.

If stretched out, Lake Powell would be longer than the continental United States.

Surrounded by protected National Monument and Recreation Area land, it’s

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easy to get lost in the lake’s endless tributaries, deep in the mind-bending orange canyons, beneath 200-foot sheer sandstone cliffs, or beached on a seldom-visited sliver of sand. Lake Powell is surrounded by natural arches, slot canyons and precarious spires. But most of its shoreline can only be reached by boat (or a prohibitively long, dry hike), cutting crowds to a fraction of what they are along road-trip routes in the area. And the deeper you go, the fewer boats you see.

“Escalante Canyon, at mile marker 69, is just beyond where most people will cruise to,” says Robert Knowlton, general manager of boat rentals and tours for the houseboat marinas on the lake. “It’s my favorite spot; I’ve been back there and not seen anyone for two or three days.”

The boats he rents vary in size, bedroom count and amenities. All come with a full kitchen and outdoor grill, but high-end cruisers come with things like rooftop hot tubs and bars. Before you scoff, Knowlton says a hot tub can

In the fall, Lake Powell’s waters are less crowded but still warm.

make a fall trip. “In September and October, evenings are cooler and the hot tub feels great,” he says. “Fall is my favorite time of year here— daytime temps stay below 100, the water is still warm and the lake is less busy.”

Busy or not, houseboating is social distancing in the most literal sense. Stocked with enough provisions to get you through a four-to-seven-day stay, you spend the entire time with only the people sleeping on your boat. Even if you do see other boats during your trip, interaction with other humans is entirely optional.

Make it happen: The two houseboat marinas on Lake Powell are Wahweap on the western end and Bullfrog, 95 miles to the east. Which one you choose depends largely on where you live—people from Colorado or Texas go to Bullfrog; Californians tend to hit Wahweap. Pro tip: Take advantage of “preboarding,” in which you can board your houseboat the night before the start of your trip—between 5 and 9 p.m.— and cast off at first light. It costs extra, but less than the hotel rooms you would need to book that night anyway.

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GU I D E

Do it TRAIN LIKE A PRO

“I JUST LIKE FLYING THROUGH THE AIR” Snowboarder Zeb Powell reveals how he prepares for his gravity-defying acrobatics.

Known for his innovative, stylish riding, Zeb Powell, 20, became a snowboarder out of adversity.

A self-described “crazy child,” Powell learned to snowboard at age 8 after his local skatepark closed. On the mountain, when an instructor tried to force Powell, a goofy-foot, to ride regular, he nearly gave it up. Still, the passionate skateboarder took to snowboarding quickly. “It came naturally, and I didn’t really have a learning curve,” he says.

“I just like flying through the air.” While attending Stratton Mountain School (in Vermont), Powell began competing nationally in slopestyle events.

Intensely creative, he constantly experiments and takes a “ride everything” approach. As he invents tricks and puts his spin on the sport’s signature moves, Powell pushes his body into ever more extreme positions.

In January 2020, he won the X Games Knuckle Huck, which rewards stylish and innovative aerials. ”I want to do something that people have never seen before.”

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“I don’t really do the standard tricks,” Powell says. “I like to try less traditional tricks—and then see if I can make them crazier and harder.”

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Fitness

S KI LL S

“With a new trick, I break it down”

“It’s all about how to push myself”

“At Stratton Mountain School, we had trampolines and a foam pit, and were always going crazy on it.

That’s where I pushed my air awareness. With a new trick, I break it down. If I’m trying to do a 720, I’ll do a 360 first and review the video. If I like it, I’ll keep doing it or build off of it. Usually, it’s a grab that no one else is doing.

There are so many variations.

I think skateboarding’s really broadened my variety of tricks.

A big part of it is confidence— believing I can do the trick and not bailing halfway through it.”

“I don’t really look at it like training. It’s just snowboarding.

I watch videos of other riders who inspire me before I go out and try to focus on my ambitions for the day. I think ambition breeds creativity. Being in a light mood also is important to my riding. I like to have my friends just laughing, to be around people who make me smile. When I went to X Games the first time, everyone was all serious, and it definitely influenced my riding. Then I figured out how to be in my head and make my own jokes and keep myself happy.”

STR E N GTH

JEN SEE

“I don’t go to the gym at all”

BRIAN NEVIS/RED BULL CONTENT POOL

FOC U S

“All my friends are always mad at me because I don’t go to the gym at all. I run sometimes if I haven’t been active for a while.

But I think skateboarding and wakeboarding do most of the work for me. They keep my legs strong.

I think wakeboarding helps with my core, too, because I’m getting pulled at like 20 mph. And I’m doing all kinds of tricks. It definitely keeps me strong and makes me more agile. I am into yoga, but I don’t really have a long enough attention span for it. I would definitely like to do it more.”

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“FOR MOTIVATION, I SEEK OUT THE JOY OF RIDING” “I try to be a diverse snowboarder—to ride jumps, rails, halfpipe and big mountain. When I’m bummed or down, I know that I just need to get on my snowboard and I’ll be fine. I get so much joy out of it. I think that’s what it’s about.”

FU E L

“I think I’ve only had five salads in my life” “I always have granola bars in my backpack. I like Clif Bars, especially the White Chocolate Macadamia Nut flavor. If I eat two of them, I feel like I’ve had a lunch. That’s about it when I’m snowboarding—granola bars and water. I’m actually a picky eater. I’m like a kid. I’ll eat tacos, but I won’t eat them with everything on them. I’m, like, plain guy. I need to change it. I like to keep PB&J in my room, in case I get hungry. I like fruit. I’ll eat vegetables, too, but I don’t go out of my way to eat them. I think I’ve only had five salads in my life.”

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GU I D E

See it

15

October AFI FEST Although the slate for this Los Angelesbased film fest hasn’t been announced yet, it’s confirmed that the show will go on in some shape or form.

Last year’s lineup included a rousing world premiere of Queen & Slim, directed by AFI alumna Melina Matsoukas and written

by Lena Waithe.

Thru October 22; fest.afi.com

Available now GO FAST PULL UP: THE JIMMY LEVAN STORY In 1998, a 24-year-old Jimmy LeVan landed a jump on his BMX from the top of the stairs at St. Mary’s Church in Austin, Texas, to the pavement on the other side of the road. It has since become known as the “Austin Church Gap,” attempted by countless others but so far only nailed by LeVan, the X Games rider who went on to carve out an innovative and influential career in street BMX and create the renowned Metal Bikes brand. It’s just one moment in his dramatic life story, as documented in this captivating film, which also details a terrifying spill he took in 2007. “I flatlined and died four times in my coma,” LeVan tells the camera, matter-of-factly. redbull.com

17

September NEW YORK FILM FESTIVAL In the throes of a global pandemic, the NYFF team quickly pivoted its setup to accommodate for drive-in screenings and virtual press passes for its 58th installment. According to programming director Dennis Lim, this year’s slate focuses on answering one question: Which films matter to us right now? Headliners include Steve McQueen’s Lovers Rock (right), Chloé Zhao’s Nomadland and Azazel Jacobs’ French Exit. Thru October 11; filmlinc.org/nyff2020

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Available now OPEN THE DOORS This documentary was intended to be a celebration of a newly minted F1 race team —Scuderia AlphaTauri, formerly Toro Rosso.

But, following the cancellation of the Australian Grand Prix in March, it became an unprecedented glimpse into the mindset of an F1 team during lockdown, and their eventual debut at the Austrian GP in July. redbull.com

THE RED BULLETIN

Calendar

8

November RED BULL SOLO Q

CHRIS RYE, SANTA POD, RED BULL CONTENT POOL, DESIGN MUSEUM, NICK PUMPHREY, MARGUS RIGA

After kicking off this summer, the global gaming extravaganza comes to a head in the U.S. in November before the world finals. The event is the official 1v1 League of Legends tournament for gamers, with more than 35 countries participating. For the online competition, the leaderboard activation can only be accessed through a Red Bull Solo Q Limited Edition can. redbull.com

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October RED BULL BASEMENT If you’re a student with an innovative idea that could enact positive change in the world, this global tech project is providing an outlet.

Get your application in

by October 25, and the selected winners will receive mentoring, workspace and microfunding to help realize their idea, before showcasing it at a global workshop in December. redbull.com

THE RED BULLETIN

Available now A LAND SHAPED

BY WOMEN Freeride snowboarders Anne-Flore Marxer and Aline Bock spent a winter making this film—set in the inspiring landscape of Iceland, a country ranked top for gender equality by the World Economic Forum 11 years running—about the push for equal rights in a sport historically dominated by men. redbull.com

Available now RETURN TO EARTH This year will likely be most remembered for long periods spent indoors.

Thank goodness, then, for this cathartic bike movie, which celebrates the feeling of just letting time fly and enjoying it. Filmed in stunning locations worldwide—from the deserts of Utah to the mountains of Patagonia— and featuring the kinetic skills of riders including Brett Rheeder, Thomas Vanderham and Casey Brown, this cinematic journey will help you reconnect with nature or, at the very least, make killing time at home more enjoyable. redbull.com

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MOUNTAIN MAGIC This winter’s coolest new gear for skiers, snowboarders and backcountry adventurers.

Words KELLY BASTONE and JOE LINDSEY

You’ll appreciate the stretch of Black Diamond’s Dawn Patrol Hybrid Pants when you’re tackling a steep uphill pitch.

GUI D E

B AC KC O U N T R Y

G E A R

BLACK DIAMOND DAWN PATROL HYBRID PANTS

DPS PAGODA TOUR 100 RP SKIS

SCARPA F1 LT BOOTS

SPYDER SANCTION GTX PRO

STANLEY STAY-HOT TITANIUM TRAVEL MUG

OSPREY SOPRIS/SOELDEN PACKS

Breathable soft-shell fabric with four-way stretch minimizes clamminess and provides freedom of movement for bootpacking up steep pitches.

Fabric on the thighs and cuffs is reinforced with a proprietary membrane that is less stretchy but more protective: Even wet snow won’t soak through, due in part to the Empel DWR treatment that’s sustainably produced and contains no toxic PFCs. $299; blackdiamondequipment.com

Extremely breathable yet rugged enough for daily wear, the Sanction (and women’s Solitaire) combines multiple Gore-Tex fabrics: Pro-Shell Stretch on the front and arms feels unconfining, while everywhere else, standard Pro Shell delivers lightweight durability. Two internal drop pockets secure even extra-wide skins, and the Solitaire (designed with pro Amie Engerbretson) includes a zippered vent on the collar to keep goggles from fogging. $750; spyder.com

DPS’s carbon laminates make for super light skis, but the Pagoda Tour’s construction of ash and paulownia, sandwiched with strips of aerospace foam, dampens chatter on hard snow without sacrificing power; it holds its own against heavier skis and climbs like a ski-mo lightweight. Tip: Order it with DPS’s Phantom, a semi-permanent waxless base treatment that offers great glide with almost no maintenance. $1,300 (+ $150 for Phantom base treatment); dpsskis.com

Slim and ultralight, this leakproof travel mug claims precious little space in your pack and weighs just 8 oz. But its double-walled vacuum insulation keeps beverages hot for up to four hours—and on a cold, wintry tour, sipping a steaming drink can mean the difference between pressing on and retreating home. Not too big or small, the 14 oz. capacity is just right. $100; stanley-pmi.com

Torn between light weight for the uphills and power for turns? These boots are Scarpa’s nocompromise answer. The no-friction walk mode borrowed from its ultralight Alien touring boot offers range of motion for comfortable uphilling.

A custom-moldable liner and Boa closure prevent hot-spot blisters and cold toes. Ready to rip? Three forward lean angles, a burly power strap and the carbon-Grilamid cuff offer lateral power with precise control. $800; scarpa.com

With women’s (Sopris 30-l) and men’s (Soelden 32-l) designs, Osprey’s first airbag packs feature plenty of thoughtful touches: a cavernous main compartment; attachment loops for everything from ice axes to skis and boards, even sleds; and Osprey’s comfortable, secure harness. Alpride’s electronic E1 airbag system has simple rechargeable capacitors for fast inflation and auto-test LED indicators to constantly monitor the system. $1,200; ospreypacks.com

The rugged, versatile Spyder Sanction and Solitaire integrate multiple Gore-Tex fabrics.

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GU I D E

S N O W B OA R D

PICTURE ORGANIC DEMAIN JACKET Until now, you had a choice for technical shells: high-performance or eco-friendly. The Demain’s solvent- and PFC-free Xpore technology is half the weight of competing waterproof/breathable membranes but performs just as well. The shell fabric is made of a blend of sugarcane waste and recycled polyester, with technical features like a powder skirt, pit zips and ergonomic hood. You’ll stay dry and warm, while helping keep winters cold. $500; picture-organic-clothing.com

K2 CLICKER X HB BINDINGS

The original step-in bindings were finicky, but the concept is irresistible: Just step in and slide for a secure, slop-free connection to the board that no strap binding can match. K2’s Clicker X HB has an intuitive toe-first step-in, a large platform for fast edge-to-edge response, and a stiff nylon highback for extra ankle support. Tool-free adjustable lean angle lets you dial in your position. Pair with K2 Maysis Clicker X HB boots for the full package. $250; k2snow.com

G E A R

BURTON WOMEN’S GORE-TEX AVALON BIB PANT

JONES STRATOS

Always a great-fitting bib—because Burton sinks major R&D into designing pants for women—the uninsulated Avalon now features two-layer GoreTex for extra durability and waterproofing. Pores in the lining open to release excess heat but close when the body cools, perfect for stop-andgo activities like resort snowboarding. The dropseat construction lets you answer nature’s call without removing your jacket. $300; burton.com

With equal abilities on hardpack and in the backcountry, the limited-edition Stratos defies easy categorization. The narrow sidecut and basalt stringers help keep the edge locked in while carving corduroy, but the directional shape that tapers to the rear and a setback stance option offer exceptional float for deep natural snow. Most hybrid boards aim for capable performance in all conditions, but the Stratos achieves mastery. $580; jonessnowboards.com

BURTON ANON WM3 GOGGLES

GIRO GRID/ENVI HELMET

Smaller faces shouldn’t mean a smaller view.

These women’s goggles feature cylindrical lens technology for distortion-free vision at every angle in a size and shape that fits smaller heads.

The Magna-Tech interchangeable lens system uses 14 powerful magnets for a secure hold and a fast, tool-free swap. Ingeniously, the magnets pair with compatible MFI Facewarmers for an airtight seal against the elements. $230 (includes two lenses); burton.com

Giro’s lightest helmets yet at 14 oz., the Grid (men’s) and Envi (women’s) are stylish, comfy— and don’t skimp on protection. It starts with MIPS Spherical, which features a ball-and-socket system of concentric spheres of EPP foam that slide against each other to protect the brain from rotational impact energy. The helmet also offers a cozy Polartec padded liner, adjustable venting and compatibility with Giro-branded Outdoor Tech audio systems. $280; giro.com

The WM3 goggles are made to fit smaller heads and have an ingenious magnet system for lenses.

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ARBOR VEDA SNOWBOARD

The Arbor Veda is ready to rip all over the mountain and has a great sustainability story, too.

Nimble enough for freestyle and burly enough for big lines, the Veda feels at home all over the mountain, just like its designer: pro rider Marie-France Roy. Arbor’s Grip Tech sidecut design puts power under your feet for precise edge control, while subtle angled riser sections at tip and tail pull contact zones slightly off the surface for a less-grabby feel. Roy’s climateactivist role comes into play, too, with FSCcertified wood cores, recycled steel edges and bio-resin laminate construction. $500; arborcollective.com

NORDICA ENFORCER 100 SKIS

As a perennial “best of test” pick, you’d think Nordica would leave the acclaimed Enforcer alone. The latest tinkering makes the new version lighter (9 lbs., 5 oz. per pair), but what matters is where: Trimming heavy plastic in the tips lowers swing weight for quicker turn initiation, and lets Nordica extend the wood/ carbon hybrid core further along the board length for a more playful feel. At 100 mm underfoot, it’s equally at home slashing grooves on fresh-laid groomers or blasting through powder and chop in the bowls. $850; nordica.com

Tweaked this year, the acclaimed Enforcer is lighter and more playful— and just as powerful as ever.

GU I D E

S K I

G E A R Ski Accessories

Hydaway Collapsible Water Bottle

ARC’TERYX CASSIAR LT JACKET

Lined with brushed flannel, the Cassiar LT (and women’s Ravenna LT) delivers a bit of warmth on chilly lift rides, yet the lightweight fabric and streamlined tailoring keep pace on aggressive descents. Pit zips dump heat, a powder skirt seals out deep drifts, and three-layer Gore-Tex will remain waterproof for years. Smart seaming, with articulated elbows and gusseted underarms, offers freedom of movement and keeps the fit trim and sleek. $599; arcteryx.com

STIO ALPINER HOODED JACKET

The Polartec Alpha Active technology inside this hardworking midlayer is spooky good at keeping you comfortable. The airy, lofted insulation provides warmth without bulk and pulls moisture away from your body. The result: You stay warm and dry whether you’re bashing moguls at full blast or hunkered down on a long lift ride. With a generous hood, full-zip front and men’s and women’s styles, it also makes a great shell layer for high-energy winter sports. $289; stio.com

The size of a hockey puck when empty, this light silicone bottle tucks neatly into a jacket pocket and offers a more sustainable alternative to the single-use plastic cups that skiers find at lodges’ water stations. Instead of drinking from those one-and-done vessels, just expand this 25 oz., BPAfree bottle and fill ’er up. $30; myhydaway.com

Atomic Connected Straps

These data trackers attach to boots’ power straps to analyze skiers’ turns, calculating such metrics as edge angle, arc shape, pressure control and G-forces. Results are reported via Atomic’s Connected App, which skiers can use to evaluate their technique and compare it against users worldwide. $499; atomic.com

BLIZZARD BLACK PEARL 88 SKIS

The world’s top-selling women’s ski was redesigned this year to keep its easy-turning likability—while expanding its ferocity. All six lengths (from 147 cm to 177 cm) feature a new beech-and-poplar core that’s optimized for every size, so each model delivers a progressive flex and solid edge hold. That gives the Black Pearl more high-speed stability, yet the tip and tail are soft enough for easygoing maneuvers. Fast or slow, this ski obliges. $780; blizzardsports.com

SALOMON SHIFT PRO 130 BOOTS

Here’s a Goldilocks option for resort skiers who tour beyond the lifts: The Shift Pro 130 (and women’s Shift Pro 110 W) is light enough for uphilling but burly enough for uninhibited descents. Credit the Coreframe construction, which sandwiches super-stiff carbon between weight-saving polyamide. The heat-moldable shell and liner ensure a blister-free fit, and thin soles allow for solid power transmission from boots to skis. $850-$975; salomon.com

POC Cornea Solar Switch Goggles

Many lenses with transitional tints that fade in dim light require seconds (even minutes) to adapt to changing conditions. But the Solar Switch instantly adjusts its light transmission and lets skiers zoom between sunny slopes and shady glades. Solar energy powers a liquid crystal technology that’s layered between the antiscratch, anti-fog lenses. $450; pocsports.com

The Shift Pro is a Goldilocks option for resort skiers who tour beyond the lifts.

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WILD CHEERS This rugged barware is as dapper as it is durable, whether you’re enjoying a good drink in the backcountry or your backyard.

Words JOE LINDSEY

CAMELBAK HORIZON WINE TUMBLER

The Camelback Horizon Wine Tumbler is designed to bring joy to outdoorsy wine snobs.

Don’t use just any tumbler for vino; the 12 oz.

Horizon’s curved interior wall mimics the bowl shape of a good wine glass to concentrate the aromas and flavors of your favorite vintages.

The no-slip silicone base pad and adjustable slider lid reduce the chance of splashes and spills. Stainless-steel construction is dishwasher safe and keeps even delicate whites at a constant temperature. $25; camelbak.com

GUI D E

YETI COLSTER CAN INSULATOR

Skip the flimsy neoprene koozie for this superior option. The double-wall vacuum insulation keeps drinks cold for hours, with no messy condensation to slick your hands. The stainless-steel construction is durable, dent resistant and dishwasher safe. It comes in a rainbow of colors to mix and match, and three sizes that fit everything from conventional 12 oz. brews to slim seltzers to tall 16-ounce cans. $25-$30; yeti.com

HYDRO FLASK INSULATED WINE BOTTLE

Take wine for the picnic without worrying about fragile glass bottles thanks to this tall 25 oz. tumbler with a leakproof lid.

The generous size will hold a full 750 ml. of your favorite wine. Double-wall insulation keeps your Fruiliano at a constant chill, and the BPA-free stainless steel won’t pick up flavors from previous use. $45; hydroflask.com

OTTERBOX ELEVATION 36 GROWLER

This slim growler is the ideal companion when you’re on the move. The 36 oz. capacity is perfect for pouring a cold, frosty brew for yourself and a friend or two post-adventure. Vacuum-sealed insulation and a copper lining keeps beer or other drinks cold for hours, and the screw-top lid is leak free and can be clipped to a pack for easy carrying. The stainless-steel construction with optional powdercoat finishes will offer years of dependable use. $45; otterbox.com

KLEAN KANTEEN COCKTAIL KIT

Bring your own portable party with this sweet cocktail kit. The 32 oz. mixer has doublewall vacuum construction and features a cap with a pour-through setting for perfect pours. Two insulated 8 oz. tumblers keep frozen drinks cold for hours (lids help prevent spills), and the four-pack of 10 oz. stainless tumblers (single-wall) let you share your latest cocktail creation with even more friends. $106; kleankanteen.com

COLEMAN SUNDOWNER ROCKS GLASS

Have whiskey on the rocks—on the rocks—with this stout tumbler. The insulated stainless-steel construction keeps ice cold up to nine hours with no slippery condensation on the outside.

A generous 13 oz. capacity works for straight pours or cocktails, and the slidable plastic lid and rubberized bottom pad add security for unstable surfaces. Also makes an ideal coffee mug for lazy weekend mornings. $15; coleman.com

GROWLERWERKS UKEG GROWLER

The problem with growlers—even the tightest lid can’t prevent the fizz and freshness from escaping eventually. The uKeg solves that with an automatic pressurization system using simple CO2 cartridges. Just fill and pressurize for 64 oz. of fresh, perfectly carbonated beer for up to two weeks (it’s fridge safe). A pressure gauge and sight glass help monitor vital signs, all in a striking steampunk style in stainless or copper finishes. $159-$179; growlerwerks.com

The uKeg growler can keep beer perfectly carbonated for up to two weeks.

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GLOBAL TEAM

THE RED BULLETIN WORLDWIDE

The Red Bulletin is published in six countries. The cover of this month’s German edition features actor Daniel Brühl (Rush), who currently stars on TNT’s The Alienist: Angel of Darkness.

For more stories beyond the ordinary, go to redbulletin.com.

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Editor-in-Chief Alexander Macheck Deputy Editor-in-Chief Andreas Rottenschlager Creative Director Erik Turek Art Directors Kasimir Reimann (deputy CD), Miles English Head of Photo Eva Kerschbaum Deputy Head of Photo Marion Batty Photo Director Rudi Übelhör Production Editor Marion Lukas-Wildmann Managing Editor Ulrich Corazza Copy Chief Andreas Wollinger Design Marion Bernert-Thomann, Martina de CarvalhoHutter, Kevin Goll, Carita Najewitz Photo Editors Susie Forman, Ellen Haas, Tahira Mirza General Manager & Publisher Andreas Kornhofer Managing Director Stefan Ebner Head of Media Sales & Partnerships Lukas Scharmbacher Publishing Management Sara Varming (manager), Ivona Glibusic, Bernhard Schmied, Melissa Stutz B2B Marketing & Communication Katrin Sigl (manager), Alexandra Ita, Teresa Kronreif, Stefan Portenkirchner Head of Creative Markus Kietreiber Co-Publishing Susanne Degn-Pfleger & Elisabeth Staber (manager), Mathias Blaha, Raffael Fritz, Thomas Hammerschmied, Valentina Pierer, Mariella Reithoffer, Verena Schörkhuber, Sara Wonka, Julia Bianca Zmek, Edith Zöchling-Marchart Commercial Design Peter Knehtl (manager), Simone Fischer, Alexandra Hundsdorfer, Martina Maier, Julia Schinzel, Florian Solly Advertising Placement Manuela Brandstätter, Monika Spitaler Head of Production Veronika Felder Production Friedrich Indich, Walter O. Sádaba, Sabine Wessig Repro Clemens Ragotzky (manager), Claudia Heis, Nenad Isailovi c,̀ Sandra Maiko Krutz, Josef Mühlbacher MIT Michael Thaler, Christoph Kocsisek Operations Melanie Grasserbauer, Alexander Peham, Yvonne Tremmel Assistant to General Management Patricia Höreth Subscriptions and Distribution Peter Schiffer (manager), Nicole Glaser (distribution), Yoldaş Yarar (subscriptions) Global Editorial Office Heinrich-Collin-Straße 1, A-1140 Vienna Tel: +43 1 90221 28800, Fax: +43 1 90221 28809 redbulletin.com Red Bull Media House GmbH Oberst-Lepperdinger-Straße 11-15, A-5071 Wals bei Salzburg, FN 297115i, Landesgericht Salzburg, ATU63611700 Directors Dietrich Mateschitz, Dietmar Otti, Christopher Reindl, Marcus Weber

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THE RED BULLETIN United Kingdom, ISSN 2308-5894 Editor Ruth McLeod Associate Editor Tom Guise Culture Editor Florian Obkircher Chief Sub-Editor Davydd Chong Publishing Manager Ollie Stretton Advertising Sales Mark Bishop, mark.bishop@redbull.com Fabienne Peters, fabienne.peters@redbull.com

THE RED BULLETIN

STAND FOR YOUR PLAYGROUND

Join the #outdoorstate and make a plan to vote. makeadamnplan.org

Action highlight

The next issue of THE RED BULLETIN is out on November 17.

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THE RED BULLETIN

EDUARDO VASQUEZ/RED BULL CONTENT POOL

All flip, no flop In case you couldn’t tell, Dimitris Kyrsanidis loves the beach. “The San Blas Islands [in Panama] were one of a kind,” says the Greek freerunner. This parkour project, shot on the tropical coast of Central America in February this year, was titled From the Office to the After Office. Fortunately, Kyrsanidis’s line of business doesn’t require a suit. Watch him in action at redbull.com.

ADI DAS .COM/FIVETE N

DARRE N B E RRECLOTH WEARI NG TH E TRAI LCROS S L O C AT I O N : Z I O N , U T