Well, back in the day when skiing wasn't just skiing, it was EXTREME skiing... There were a few lads who set themselves apart as the most extreme of the extreme, and maybe, well tied with the great Scott Schmidt, there was Gleen Plake. 8feet tall, inc'l mohawk, Glenn was the baddest ass on a pair of 210's the world had ever seen. A backcountry pioneer and riper of everthing from Alaskan glacier to French Alp, to Rockies backcountry Glenn brought with him an attitude and a style that summed up the skiing movement of the late 80's and early 90's: Big mountains, Big Lines, Huge Cliffs, and even brighter colors. I had the chance to meet the man one day on my local mountain back then, Grand Targhee, best damn pow-pow skiing this side of the continental divide. I had never seen someone cut through trees with such confidence and finnesse, he looked as a torpedo navigating a corral reef with jet thrusters making precise movements and aggressive carves, smiling the whole way. I caught up to him at the bottom, I said my what's up and he just laughed for I am just a mere mortal. Glen Plake is the God of freeskiing as we know it. The fact that you didn't know who he is, well it's kind of sad, but now that you do, you must do your part to spread to the far corners of the universe the greatness of this great man... And I leave you with this...
'...Smoking's bad, smoking killed my dad. Yeah, he was driving down the highway one day and as he was lighting his cigarette, it blew out the window. So he jumps out the door to save it, and ran himself over. Uh, you mind if I smoke?' -Olie Ollaussen, Ski Bum extraordinaire