Part 2: Reflections and tales of Hoss by Matt Stillman

When we last heard from the Wolf Pack we were getting spiritual on Antelope Island in the middle of the Salt Lake. Fast forward to now, Im currently sitting in Chicago’s O’Hare International airport surrounded by crying infants and awkward Midwesterners. Not exactly the spring break hot spot but its all gravy. So this past week has been an absolute whirlwind of shredding, subway, Depalma’s reckless driving, Bishop’s world famous life quotes and mind-blowing scenery. Continuing with the theme of the trip (shredding) we sacked up and headed to Park City on Friday to squeeze the last drops of gnar out of Utah. We were greeted by yet another bluebird day with temperatures in the mid 50s, it felt more like a trip to the beach than a shred mission. bluebird!

After a few warm up runs through the park we started to find spots to get some shots. We eyed up dirt gap, sent it, and claimed it.

Park City has seemingly unlimited terrain and parks so we spent the day hossing through the parks and cruising to and fro. Arguably one of the more unique features PC plays host to is a large eye ball meant for bonking and tapping, so we played optometrists and bonked the eye lashes off that thing.

The unblinking eye of Park City was no match for my backside 180s

So remember before how I was discussing the small world principal? Well it goes something along these lines: Last year a legend graduated from SMC, he then loaded up his safari wagon and headed to Central America for some epic swells. December came and went and one day this kid got a call from a bro telling him that it was dumping in Jackson Hole and he should make like a misguided Canadian goose and head north for the winter. Shortly after that call Colin Boyd made his glorious return to the states to terrorize the parks and backcountry. I met Boyd last year and was lucky enough to apprentice under him for a few short weeks in the spring. Those few weeks were some of the best riding I have ever partaken in, partially because of Boyd’s infectious energy and love of snowboarding. Partially because we just did whatever the hell we wanted, from wearing wetsuits to hossing through the park paying no mind to dropping order and just slashing. Boyd is like a bald eagle holding a hunting knife in the mist, you never really know where he is or what he might be slaying.

Alright back to the small world principal, Nico, Bish and myself and standing in a lift line at PC and we see a shredder shoot by us in the singles line wearing a coat that looks awfully familiar. Sure enough it was the Boyd in the flesh we met him at the top of the quad and peppered him with questions about his travels. After catching up we headed to the park to get some shredding done with this bald eagle in the mist (you should see how hard it is for a bald eagle to wear a coat!). Boyd regaled us with stories of his travels and his conquests then proceeded to shred in a fashion that only a bald eagle can.

Note the wingspan and impressive plumage

Recall the how I mentioned earlier that PC was home to some big ole jumps? Well we had been flirting with the possibility of hitting them all day and Boyd was just the catalyst we needed. In the presence of Boyd it was not even necessary to take a run through and scope the jumps we just followed his lead. Good times were had by all and not even one person soiled themselves. On our way to the park Nico and I spotted the perfect spot to perform the signature move of Hoss Nation, the Russell Slide.

These little kids saw this and thought it was “the coolest thing ever!” nbd

At the end of the day we headed to Boyd’s den for some adult beverages where we were greeted by warm smiles and cold cervesas. Swapping tales of gnar and travel we almost forgot we had to get back to the U so we could take Depalma out for his thank you/imaginary birthday dinner. We said our goodbyes and peaced off to dinner. After Depalma thoroughly pissed off our waiter by ordering a sample of every beer on the menu we sang him happy birthday and Bush got his chest hair rubbed by a beautiful young lady; That’s what I call a meal!

In the end the journey was still worth the 3 hour lay over Bush and I are currently enduring. Hell Id take a 24 hour lay over inside of the Mormon Temple just to sleep on Depalma’s floor again and hear Bush snore one last time. We made so many new friends on this trip from the buck wild Canadians to the mild mannered Mormons who populate the hills. I even fell in love in a super market, her name was sundress girl and she was a goddess. All in all this trip was everything one could hope for, a sun drenched foray into the Wasatch Mountain in the name of old Saint Michael. I know we had a blast this spring break and I hope you did too so if you have an shred pictures or tales of your break feel free to send em our way, blow up Nicks email and see your pictures/story on the ShredMC website; nbush@smcvt.edu

Big thanks to Depalma, Subway, Delta Airlines, Sinclair, Wolf Van, and AMERICA!

Spiritually yours,
Matt Stillman, Arch Duke of North Campus