a season in hard boots by jen coots The third day of the season I took a slow toeside turn into an unexpected bump. The terrain was pretty sloppy but in better shape than me. The bump forced my back foot to flex hard toward my shin and I heard a SNAP! Always in denial of any real injury, I kept on moving down the slope. No matter how I tried to bury the pain or balance my ride on my front foot, the grim reality every rider hates to face: I had to unstrap and walk down.
Jen's hardboots |
I knew it was bad. I’d broken my arm and collarbone, had concussions and sprains, bruises and black eyes, but never had I once walked down off the hill. A trip to the xray three days later didn’t reveal much. The man said fractures in the feet are hard to find because there are so many small bones. He sentenced me to 1-3 months of hard down time. Ouch! |
Four days later I was back on the hill. Any day spent making easy turns is better than a day in the Lay-Z-Boy. I got off at the top of the lower lift and strapped into my board. Three turns later I heard the familiar SNAP! On my face in pain, slamming my fists on the snow, a scene that would become familiar. But this time I was able to make it down the mountain on my board. At the bottom I was surprised to find my foot actually improved, but swelling fast. Again, I couldn’t walk for 3-4 days. My foot would not flex toward my shin and my hard boots were the most orthopedic solution. This is how I spent a season riding hard boots on my 168 Supermodel. I’d bought a pair of Raichle boots in 1998 while riding a season in Sun Valley, Idaho. That mountain was full of beautiful groomers. I met people who got in freshies the days it dumped and spent the rest of the week carving up the endless corduroy. In Alaska, I’ve pulled out my carving board less than a dozen times in the last two years. The skinny stiff Nitro 160 racing board was a nightmare in powder and in our heavy wet snow conditions. But on a bigger 168 powder board, the hard boots found a good combination. Then it snowed like I dream of snow. Perfect, fluffy, foot after foot, it fell. Less than three weeks after my injury, still not able to walk normally, I returned to the hill. It wasn’t pretty and I had to keep most of my weight on my forward foot——but I could ride. Over the next few weeks I felt like the happiest person on the groomers. The adrenaline my body pumped out every time I tweaked my foot helped, but mostly I was just happy to be outside enjoying the elements. All winter people asked me about riding hard boots. The first difference I noticed when I switched to hard boots was the power. Stiff boots allowed me to hang on to any turn. I skied for a dozen years before snowboarding and I always loved those hard G-force turns I could grind on skis. Soft snowboard boots trade the hard grind for agility (and comfort). But the racecar driver in me loves to haul ass and feel confident in high-speed turns.
| Of course, riding hard boots means you lose some degree of agility. For me, that meant not many jumps or little hits along the way. I copied the stance from my carving board and had both feet angled at about 40 degrees forward, so riding fakie was a challenge. I tried hard to see it as nature’s way of reminding me that I was injured, but inevitably there’d be one jump out there look so good you can’t refuse it. And that was the worst part about riding plate bindings——they released when I caught more than 10 feet of air. Bummer. Maybe my set-up was totally fucked-up, but I had single and double releases all season. I don’t think this is true for everyone. I remember one rider in Sun Valley ripping all kinds of tricks, back flips and catching big air in hard boots. I never saw him release his bindings.
Jen's hardboots on Sheep Mtn, Alaska |
Another bummer was hiking in hard boots. One of the reasons I started snowboarding was to get out of those uncomfortable ski boots. My hard boots were slightly more comfortable, but we hike almost every day in Juneau and it blew. Undoing buckles and releasing the forward lean, every hike was a pain. The snow would cake up on the bottom of my boots and make strapping in an ordeal. For that reason, I would definitely recommend against wearing hard boots when heli-boarding in snow up to your waist. On the flip side, inbound area groomers are perfect to strap into plate bindings. If someone wants to ride hard G-force turns and is not into tricks or big air and does minimal hiking, I’d say give hard boots a try.
| Overall, I was completely satisfied with my original purpose of riding hard boots: orthopedic. My boots kept me riding all winter, which would have been impossible otherwise. I don’t recommend this solution for anyone but the absolute desperate. My foot never did ‘heal’ last winter. I was continually plagued by one to four-day setbacks. One particularly hard injury to my overused ankle sent me strait to the phone buying a ticket to Florida. I’d say the last month of the season was the only time I could ride hard. |
Jen's hardboots off Douglas, Alaska |
Hard boots are an awesome ride and improve control and power considerably over most soft boots. Me personally, I’ll keep the hard boots, but I’ll ride soft cause I like air too much.
Jen's hardboots down Jumbo chute, Alaska |
Jen Coots is a snowboarder, writer, musician, weaver, living between Alaska and New Mexico at the moment.