The Most Extreme Snowsports Helmet?
UK-based helmet manufacturer Ruroc has been kind enough to punt one of their RG-1 snowsports helmets across the Atlantic to my mobile HQ, and in the limited edition “Venom” green-on-black color scheme no less.
After a few days of testing in a variety of conditions, I’m happy to report the headline I’m sure Ruroc’s PR department was hoping for: I love it!
Check out my open-box impressions below, then I’ll get into the details of on-snow usage.
As you saw, Ruroc does it right straight out of the box.
Beautiful packaging, premium build quality, and heaps of stickers will have a new purchaser nodding in approval before he or she even puts the thing on. If that’s not enough to make you smile, the “Made In England” stamp inside the lid certainly will. This helmet is built where it’s designed- no outsourcing to enslaved kids in Molvania for this company.
You’ve gathered by now that the look is polarizing. If the mirrored lens didn’t make enough of a statement, that solid face shield and textured matte black finish will have Stormtroopers saluting and kids running to their mama (this helmet is probably not the best choice for on-duty ski instructors).
On one test day I was told I looked like Darth Vader by no less than three lifties, although if I were inclined to get nerdy up in here I’d reckon the RG-1 looks a lot more like the Imperial Endor Scout helmet.
In any case, the perpetually-expressionless look afforded by this helmet lets you be The Stig of the mountain- for the full effect, move your head very slowly and don’t answer questions with anything but a nod.
Okay, so it looks hardcore. But how good is it really?
At first I was a bit skeptical. I’ve seen guys wearing full-face Downhill MTB helmets and they look like dorks. The giant chin-protector makes their head look disproportionately huge and is so far away from the face that there’s no way it can do anything for wind deflection.
But the RG-1 is different. The face shield is tight enough to your face to block wind and impact, and gives you that “locked-in” feeling I’m used to in my sport motorcycle helmets without the added heft.
It’s comfortable too. The helmet’s shell, which carries about forty stamps of approval and as many safety ratings, is quite thick and tall. But if that doesn’t describe your head shape, Ruroc has been foresightful enough to supply plenty of extra pads for you to shape the lid’s interior to your needs.
Some users have complained that the Ruroc helmet system only works with their house-brand goggles. Well they shouldn’t, because the included eyewear is top-notch. Interchangeable lens, incredible peripheral vision and perfect fitment with the helmet make them the only choice for an RG-1 wearer.
And on impact? Come on, I ride like a maniac… everybody knows I couldn’t go that long without a nasty prang to the head. Which is why I’ve had to wait until today to write a full review.
With my speed Völkls freshly waxed and serious tailwinds blowing skiers and snow downhill in a hurry, today was perfect for a top-speed test… which I realized afterwards would actually be my helmet test.
Going full noise down the Cornice Bowl, one of the steeper offerings at Mammoth Mountain, I found myself baring down on a patch of rocks that I really didn’t want to subject my new wax job to. Thinking I could change direction more effectively than I could hop the obstacle I banked too hard and proceeded to catch an edge, tossing me on to the icy surface like the first pawn eliminated from a tense chess game.
My head and hips met the ground like old friends and I slid at least ten meters toward the bottom.
But with my head encapsulated by the RG-1 and lower body protected by Demon Flex-Force shorts (reviewed here) I was able to hop up and power on as soon as gravity showed me a little mercy and arrested my slide.
In the flurry of snow and limbs that resulted from the crash I can’t really tell you if my face hit the ice or not, but I can tell you the only thing giving me a headache at the end of the day was the Skillrex Pandora station I was rocking out to on my bus ride home.
The Ruroc RG-1 is solid as the third little piggy’s house, believe that. But like everything else it ain’t perfect. It’s not nearly as warm as it looks, and wind whips through the vents quite easily. Luckily you can rectify that with a baklava, hat or kafia underneath. On really windy days you’ll have to stuff something between the opening under the front of the face shield and your skin, or your face will sting after your first chairlift ride.
It’s also somewhat inconvenient for the everyday skier. Headphones are impossible to reach if they get jostled out of your ears, CamelBak tubes are tough to get to and is a little awkward to have a conversation with any cuties you might meet on the chairlift when you look like you’re about to go break up a riot. So the RG-1 probably isn’t something you’d ski or board in every time you hit the snow- but it definitely can’t be bested for those top-speed test days, video sessions or park workouts when you want to go hard and can’t be bothered socializing.
Starting at $260 US this unit isn’t cheap either. But since that figure includes a helmet, facemask and goggle set, all made in Europe, the price starts to look pretty reasonable.
The RG-1 is available in ton of color combinations, and the modular nature of the helmet allows you to plug-and-play with the style to your hearts content.
If you’re interested in learning more about Ruroc or ordering one of their lids head over to website- www.ruroc.com (obviously) and get your extreme on.
And if you want to see the thing in action, here’s a quick clip I grabbed before I had to retreat to the bar from the day’s obnoxious wind.
Ass Armor Of The Future… Prepare To Crash In Comfort
Having taken delivery on a pair of Flex-Force Pro Armored Shorts from Demon United last week, I’ve finally had a chance to properly evaluate them after a few runs in varied conditions and a few falls flat on my ass.
Before reading, you should really check out the Open Box Impression video below, to get an idea of the product itself and how it’s presented by Demon.
As you saw, I found the build quality, fitment and style to be most agreeable straight away. Solid stitching, great elasticity and a high level of comfort that you need in an undergarment.
Protective pads cover the hips, thighs, tailbone, and the gluteus maximus that surrounds it for full protection of all your lower-body parts most likely to hit the ground first.
The pads are light enough to keep on all day but beefy enough to remind you of their presence thanks to utilization of a material called “D3O”. For those of you who don’t usually ski or board in body armor it is an inspiring experience- even if you don’t crash.
Confidence burbles from the pads up your spine and into your brain, making you feel like some kind of snowboarding superhero.
This of course is not the goal of armor manufacturers and is in fact an extremely dangerous phenomenon.
Wearing armor is not an excuse to be an idiot. But let’s face it- how do you get better? You go bigger, that’s how. And although it doesn’t make you invincible, light armor like the Flex-Force Pro shorts allow you to walk away from bigger falls without injury.
And that, I can attest to.
While butt-region injuries are relatively infrequent on skis, thwacks to the tailbone are all too common when riding a snowboard. Especially if you’re new to the sport like myself.
In order to truly test the Flex-Force shorts, I had to have a go on a board. I rented a basic Burton 160 from the demo shop at Mammoth Mountain and set out for some intermediate trails.
As I rode the chairlift I thought about my career as a crash-test dummy. Would I really be able to throw myself into the snow on purpose for the sake of science?
Who was I kidding- I’m not a good enough snowboarder to go a whole day without falling on my keister.
It only took four runs before I had my chance to properly evaluate the shorts.
Coming down Stump Alley, a moderately steep but surprisingly fast run under Mammoth Mountain’s Chair Two, I built up way more speed than I knew what to do with an overconfidently tried to initiate a heel-edge turn to scrub down.
In less time than I could yell my butt was barreling into the snow, making contact with enough force to toss me around and cream the left thigh as well.
I looked up to make sure my board and body were visible to descending traffic and began to assess my injuries.
I’m not gonna lie- the crash was not a painless experience. I felt some undeniably tenderness where the impact had first taken place, but the sensation secondary impact had already faded.
I righted myself and headed for the lift, half speed this time, and compared this crash to my last nasty tailbone tag.
My first day on a snowboard had only taken place a few weeks ago, but the pain in my tailbone from one low-speed direct hit had lingered like the last party guest still desperate to bring someone to bed.
I estimate the crash I just had in the shorts was roughly equal to that which had haunted me for so many days, and I’m delighted to report that the pain from the former had faded almost completely by the time I reached the bottom of the run.
These things saved my ass from a week’s worth of pain and hampered performance; you can’t put a price on that.
Actually, you can. The Demon Flex-Force Pro Shorts retail for about $70, and can be purchased directly from their website or through any major online sports gear retailer.
The only caveats I’d send you to the store with is that the shorts do get quite hot, even on cooler days. Makes me think they’d be pretty tough to spring ski in, and nearly unbearable on jungle mountain biking runs.
•••
What’s this “D3O” business anyway? It’s not a Star Wars character (I know, that’s what I thought at first too). D3O is actually a synthetic polymer that’s coming up as the new word in sports body protection.
Why?
The geniuses over at the D3O Lab in England have finally put down the teakettle and developed a material that’s lightweight like foam when moved slowly, but hardens instantly on impact to disperse the blow over a larger area of your body and reduce the risk of injury.
This material is ideal for sports protection applications where low weight and high maneuverability are critical features.
This material is tough, that fact made itself apparent right away to me when they absorbed most of the ouch from my spill. But don’t take my word for it, watch the maniacs at GizMag.com beat the crap out of each other to prove my point.
As you can see, D3O may not withstand repeated trauma as well as thick foam CE armor. But when’s the last time you didn’t take a few second breather after a nasty impact? In all but the highest-speed crashes you might wrap yourself up in on a motorcycle, snowmobile or quad, the lightweight and malleability of D3O renders it the superior tool for personal sports protection.
Wanna get a little more nerdy with it?
Visit the D3O Labs official website, this surprisingly informative Wikipedia article or watch this Discovery Channel clip featuring a D3O-equipped beanie.
Ridden: Surface “One Life”… Nobody Rockers Harder
Local ski shop owner Tim Hinkle was peddling his wares outside Canyon Lodge yesterday- and was kind enough to be handing out demos of this year’s Surface skis like they were t-shirts at a wrestling match.
No license, credit card or background check required. How could I resist a free test-ride on new hardware?
“Whaddyou wanna try, man?”
Having just bought new skis I admitted I wasn’t in the market, but it seemed stupid to waste an opportunity try some different gear.
I picked out the most ridiculous offering in the lineup- a pair of 179cm powder/all-mountain planks called the “One Life” from Surfaces’ “Life Series” of skis.
Full specs and factory photos available here.
Featuring a substantial 140 / 112 / 132 footprint and unheard of eight degrees of rocker; all four front ends of these beasts (twin tip, of course) pointed to the heavens while the only part of P-Tex that actually touched the snow was directly under the boot.
If you don’t understand what the hell I’m on about, check out Evo.com’s definitions of ski shape.
Designed for extremely deep snow and I’m assuming halfpipe skiing, I noticed loads of pop and an excellent wax job as I skated toward Chair Sixteen for an inaugural run.
Coming down the groomers I couldn’t help but pull flat 360s every couple meters. With such an extreme rocker angle the edges of the skis hardly had a chance to catch, and I found out quickly that the One Lifes would much rather pull spins than lay into a carved turn.
When I could break off a carve, I was rewarded with a most obnoxious plume of snow dust being flung off the tail. Imagine a never ending exit wound caused by shooting Frosty with an M1014- weirdly beautiful and decidedly awesome.
In bumps the One Lifes were a riot; weaving around obstacles so quickly and easily I thought I might trip over the tips.
The skis were so happy to turn at low speed that I could practically orbit every mogul on the hill in the same run. The bumps I couldn’t be bothered dodging were even more fun- just an easy bend of the knees and I was boosting effortlessly into the next dip.
But as you’ve probably already guessed, this level of dedication to low-speed maneuverability cost the One Lifes stability at speed. Over 35 MPH and they’re a bit squirrely. Over 50, they might as well be snow blades.
When I cleared the moguls and made it into the straights the riders I had smoked came up on me again and blew past in a white cloud of granular that stung my face almost as much as my pride.
No matter. I was coming up on the Art Park, a small gathering of features for park rats-in-training, and these oversized fruit boots would once again prove their worth.
Even the small kickers were enough to elevate these skis to some respectable hangtime. Hell, I could have caught air off a hummingbird’s wang. I’m sure a more talented park skier could have really made them shine in one of our larger terrain areas, but I had a lot of fun all the same.
Obviously these skis aren’t viable as the only weapon in your on-snow arsenal, but they’d fill out your collection nicely if you’re the kind of rider that needs a specific ski for every lift on the mountain.
Sounds like you? Head over to YeahSweetOnline.com to place an order, or try and meet up with Tim for a demo. I hear they’ll let any idiot have a go…
Details on “One Life” powder/all-mountain skis by Surface
Skiing Elephant Races Man With No Legs
As an employee of Mammoth Mountain’s Host Department, I work closely with our skiing mascot Woolly the mammoth. As such, I get the insider information on his antics and will occasionally share them here, that is when they’re appropriate to print (Woolly’s been known to drop a filthy strip club story in the locker room when he gets back from a weekend in Reno).
After the big snow of mid-January, the 24th was the first real bluebird groomer day. The ‘cats had had their chance to comb most of the runs, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and wind was low- conditions were perfect for Woolly to put on a clinic and have a ripper of a day.
He started off with two cups of Café Corazon coffee; a special blend infused with something aptly named the Mad Man bean- packing triple potency and carrying a warning not to be drunk straight.
By the time he was riding the gondola to his dressing cave at Canyon Lodge, his heart was already pumping nearly twice resting rate and his giant pupils were dilating to the size of tires.
The gondola swayed to a halt and Woolly squeezed out of the tiny door. He took the long way to his cave, stopping by the rental shop and then photography office to hit on the girls working there and there respectively. For an anthropomorphic animal who can’t talk, that guy sure does have swagger.
Down in the host office Woolly learned he’d be riding with Rick, a fast skier from Ohio and one of his favorite guides. They suited and booted, made their way through the mob of kids and tourists clamoring with photos of the famous pachyderm and headed for Chair Sixteen.
But making it up the first lift ahead of schedule, Rick asked Woolly where he wanted to go.
“Wind doesn’t look bad on Chair Five… think you could get down Solitude?”
Woolly reckoned he could.
At the top of Five the wind was howling. Woolly held his ears to avoid getting shot down a precipice while he posed for pictures. When the crowd died Rick pointed down the hill and yelled through the bluster;
“HEAD FOR CHAIR TWO! LET’S GO!”
Woolly hung his skis over the run and waited for wind.
Nothing…
Nothing…
Then after a five-second eternity a beastly gust blew Woolly’s body forward and his fur back. He took off like a shot, guzzling air and calories to accelerate harder. Tucking down to assemble some semblance of aerodynamics he pressed his shins against the front of his boots to hold a carve.
Woolly was amassing speed like a runaway locomotive. Giant ears pinned back, eyes starting to tear, he stared unblinking as he searched for bumps in the snow to unweight and turn on.
BANG! Woolly caught a lip and was airborne and twisting, re-arranging his skis to shoot off at a forty-degree angle.
He landed and connected, leaning into the next carve like it was a cute chick sitting next to him in the back of his roommate’s tiny SUV.
Behind him, a faint but familiar voice screamed in desperation;
“WOOLLY! LEFT! LEFT! LEFT!”
Woolly had half a second to decide if that meant to go left or that there was an obstacle to the left. Unable to move his massive head for fear of wind resistance overcoming his weight and throwing him to the ground he went with Option C and straightlined it.
A hundred meters later the warning became clear- he was to turn left at the intersection he was bearing down on at full noise.
Woolly re-weighted again and leaned into a long, satisfying carve that would have impressed a GS racer. He was riding a pair of Line Mavericks- too skinny for powder but plenty grippy for a groomer day like this.
At the bottom of Chair Two Woolly was out of breath, and had to lean on the seven year old getting their picture taken with him to keep from falling.
Woolly rode up Two and danced around for his scheduled photo appearance. But he had only been there a few minutes when the East Sierra Disabled Sports team stopped by with a group of Wounded Warriors- U.S. Military veterans who had sustained injuries in combat, but were beastly enough to have a go at skiing anyway.
One in particular got a kick out of Woolly and fancied a race. Sitting in a basket with a ski mounted to the bottom, this man may have lost his legs but he most certainly had not lost his badass disposition.
“He’s only been on that thing four days,” said one of his companions as he rocked from side to side in preparation for what Woolly knew was about to be one hell of a show.
“Woolly, can we ride together? Let’s race Stump Alley!”
One of the attendants leaned over to Rick and his mammoth.
“We were going to head back to Two, can Woolly make it down there? ‘Cause we’ve had some Woollys who were good and some, uh, a bit shaky.”
Woolly, unable to talk of course, just made the brush-off-own-shoulder expression to respond that he did not belong to the latter category.
Rick laughed to himself as he imagined Woolly’s anger at his skills being questioned.
“Oh, I think he’ll make it just fine.”
Now twice-motivated Woolly took off riding switch (backwards) and beckoned the entourage to chase him with a big, exaggerated wave.
The adaptive-skier followed suit and upped the ante, ripping a 360 in his basket and tossing snow on Woolly’s fur. Worse yet, Woolly caught somebody taping the action with a GoPro.
Everyone knows a camera to a mammoth is a red rag to a bull… shit was about to go down.
The ad-ski took off and Woolly pulled downhill with a quick spin.
They were flat-out now, laying down crisscrossed carves and overtaking gapers who were left living up to their name in speechless paralysis.
But once they got into the straights, Woolly’s crippling air-brake ears held him back from matching the ad-ski’s tuck. The legless skier took off and picked up ten, twenty kilometers an hour on the mammoth and skidded to a halt in a tsunami of clumpy snow.
Woolly was coming in hot close behind, and it occurred to him to roost the seated skier- but thinking it unwise to potentially insult an American hero he opted for a 720 spin-stop followed by an exaggerated bow, to the cheers of lifties and five-year-olds in the lift line.
