Beauty That’s Ski Deep
Custom-made gear for the slopes may not be priced outrageously, but it can provide a rare luxury: more—and better—time on the slopes.
When he was 19, Eric Gricus spent 100 days a year skiing at Crested Butte in Colorado. Now 34 years old and an adviser to startup businesses in Boulder, Colorado, he’s lucky to get on the snow 30 times a year. Like many people who have to squeeze big passions into tight schedules, Gricus wants to get the most out of every experience, skiing as long as he can—and at his peak ability—on every trip.
But Gricus’ skis, a pair of Volkl Gotamas that retailed for about $700, were not living up to his ambitions. He started each day skiing great, but by the afternoon his legs would be tired and he’d be feeling a little sloppy, he says. Since he’d had his boots custom fit with great results, he thought that he might get the same benefits from a pair of custom-made skis.
One thousand dollars and two weeks later, Gricus was getting in an additional three or four long powder runs a day at Vail. “I can’t believe the difference,” Gricus says. “They just explode out of the turn.”
Just about anything can be custom-made or custom-modified, from shoes to computers—and, increasingly, it is. Though the Bode Millers of the world have long had skis built just for them, until relatively recently, the rest of us, no matter how deep our pockets, had to make do with off-the-rack gear. The good news is that custom skis do improve performance—not to mention that they provide a lift-line conversation piece—at quite reasonable prices.
Gricus’ new skis came from Wagner Custom in Telluride, Colorado, which started selling skis just last year and is one of a half-dozen small U.S. companies now turning out individually crafted equipment. The owners of these tiny outfits talk extensively with each customer, sometimes even skiing with them, to make sure they translate client needs into the right ski shape, flex, stiffness, and length—the key elements that determine how a ski turns and responds to the skier and the terrain.
The growth of custom-ski makers is a throwback to an industry that was pioneered by passionate skiers, but which has become dominated by large corporations—some having little relation to the sport. For example, K2, the largest American ski manufacturer, and Volkl, a German company long recognized for high-quality skis, are both owned by Rye, New York-based Jarden Corporation, which also owns Mr. Coffee and Seal-a-Meal.
The industry leaders are hardly asleep at the wheel. They have adapted to consumer demand with skis tailored to different types of terrain and styles of skiing. K2, for example, offers 32 different models—everything from wide skis designed for deep powder to slalom-racing skis and skis designed specifically for women. But with hundreds of skis to choose from, even experienced customers can get overwhelmed. “There are so many models of skis, it’s almost getting ridiculous,” says Scott Jaeger, senior retail analyst with the Boulder-based Leisure Trends Group. “The end user has no clue.”
But Gricus’ skis, a pair of Volkl Gotamas that retailed for about $700, were not living up to his ambitions. He started each day skiing great, but by the afternoon his legs would be tired and he’d be feeling a little sloppy, he says. Since he’d had his boots custom fit with great results, he thought that he might get the same benefits from a pair of custom-made skis.
One thousand dollars and two weeks later, Gricus was getting in an additional three or four long powder runs a day at Vail. “I can’t believe the difference,” Gricus says. “They just explode out of the turn.”
Just about anything can be custom-made or custom-modified, from shoes to computers—and, increasingly, it is. Though the Bode Millers of the world have long had skis built just for them, until relatively recently, the rest of us, no matter how deep our pockets, had to make do with off-the-rack gear. The good news is that custom skis do improve performance—not to mention that they provide a lift-line conversation piece—at quite reasonable prices.
Gricus’ new skis came from Wagner Custom in Telluride, Colorado, which started selling skis just last year and is one of a half-dozen small U.S. companies now turning out individually crafted equipment. The owners of these tiny outfits talk extensively with each customer, sometimes even skiing with them, to make sure they translate client needs into the right ski shape, flex, stiffness, and length—the key elements that determine how a ski turns and responds to the skier and the terrain.
The growth of custom-ski makers is a throwback to an industry that was pioneered by passionate skiers, but which has become dominated by large corporations—some having little relation to the sport. For example, K2, the largest American ski manufacturer, and Volkl, a German company long recognized for high-quality skis, are both owned by Rye, New York-based Jarden Corporation, which also owns Mr. Coffee and Seal-a-Meal.
The industry leaders are hardly asleep at the wheel. They have adapted to consumer demand with skis tailored to different types of terrain and styles of skiing. K2, for example, offers 32 different models—everything from wide skis designed for deep powder to slalom-racing skis and skis designed specifically for women. But with hundreds of skis to choose from, even experienced customers can get overwhelmed. “There are so many models of skis, it’s almost getting ridiculous,” says Scott Jaeger, senior retail analyst with the Boulder-based Leisure Trends Group. “The end user has no clue.”
Custom-ski makers claim they can cut through the confusion. Though custom-made skis cost more, prices aren’t outrageous—between $1,200 and $2,000, compared with about $800 for a high-end production ski—and they come with prodigious personal attention. Dan Buzzelli, a civil engineer with the New York State Department of Transportation, has bought three pairs of skis from Birdos Freeride Skis, a custom crafter in Switzerland. He spent more than two hours on the phone with founder Dan Loutrel and swapped 20-plus emails about the design specifications for the three pairs. Michael Parris at Igneous Skis, which sells mostly to locals in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, has skied with about half of his customers in order to better judge their needs. Peter Wagner of Wagner Custom developed a lengthy online questionnaire to help him better understand what his clients are after. All of these efforts are meant to produce a unique ski at a level of quality that can’t be matched by the big manufacturers. “It’s like talking to a doctor of skiing,” says Gricus.
Since these are small companies run by their founders, each has its own idiosyncratic approach to building skis. Wagner, who has an M.B.A. and began his career developing software for designing custom golf clubs, takes a technology-heavy approach. He has cataloged the characteristics of most of the top-end production skis in a database so he can better understand what customers like about their current skis, and he uses computer-guided milling machines. At Igneous, Parris evaluates every piece of wood that comes through the door, milling each for a different role in a ski, whether it is the core or sidewall or top sheet, depending on the quality of its grain. Claudio Mazzoni of Spoilt Ski in Alassio, Italy, says that many of his customers want unique graphics on their skis, so he and his brother built a special press that allows them to transfer any illustration to the plastic that covers the ski. At ScottyBob Skis in Silverton, Colorado, each pair is built by a single employee from start to finish. The employee’s initials are included in the serial number.
In an industry dominated by large companies with long histories, startups like these face plenty of hurdles. Parris says that few in the industry understood what Igneous was doing when it started making wide skis in 1994. Now broader skis are standard fare. Birdos founder Loutrel, a native of Boston, says that finding ski-specific materials in small quantities was nearly impossible when he started in 2003.
These companies are also competing in a troubled industry. The number of skis sold in North America fell by 10 percent, to 473,000 pairs, between the 2004 and 2005 season and the 2005 and 2006 season, according to Leisure Trends Group. Warm, dry weather in the Alps in 2006 was to blame for European declines, and Head NV, a top brand in the European market, expects a loss this year.
But there is little question that these companies, with their tiny production runs and handcrafted approach, are not really competing with the big manufacturers’ global-supply chain, outsourced manufacturing, and high-priced marketing campaigns. They are offering something different.
“This ski was exactly what I was looking for,” says Buzzelli, who uses his Birdos skis in the backcountry of the Adirondack Mountains. “The quality is better than a production ski, and it’s tailored just for you. You are the star.”
Since these are small companies run by their founders, each has its own idiosyncratic approach to building skis. Wagner, who has an M.B.A. and began his career developing software for designing custom golf clubs, takes a technology-heavy approach. He has cataloged the characteristics of most of the top-end production skis in a database so he can better understand what customers like about their current skis, and he uses computer-guided milling machines. At Igneous, Parris evaluates every piece of wood that comes through the door, milling each for a different role in a ski, whether it is the core or sidewall or top sheet, depending on the quality of its grain. Claudio Mazzoni of Spoilt Ski in Alassio, Italy, says that many of his customers want unique graphics on their skis, so he and his brother built a special press that allows them to transfer any illustration to the plastic that covers the ski. At ScottyBob Skis in Silverton, Colorado, each pair is built by a single employee from start to finish. The employee’s initials are included in the serial number.
In an industry dominated by large companies with long histories, startups like these face plenty of hurdles. Parris says that few in the industry understood what Igneous was doing when it started making wide skis in 1994. Now broader skis are standard fare. Birdos founder Loutrel, a native of Boston, says that finding ski-specific materials in small quantities was nearly impossible when he started in 2003.
These companies are also competing in a troubled industry. The number of skis sold in North America fell by 10 percent, to 473,000 pairs, between the 2004 and 2005 season and the 2005 and 2006 season, according to Leisure Trends Group. Warm, dry weather in the Alps in 2006 was to blame for European declines, and Head NV, a top brand in the European market, expects a loss this year.
But there is little question that these companies, with their tiny production runs and handcrafted approach, are not really competing with the big manufacturers’ global-supply chain, outsourced manufacturing, and high-priced marketing campaigns. They are offering something different.
“This ski was exactly what I was looking for,” says Buzzelli, who uses his Birdos skis in the backcountry of the Adirondack Mountains. “The quality is better than a production ski, and it’s tailored just for you. You are the star.”



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