Knock, knock.
PHOTO ADA M MCKIBBEN
The house looked rough from the outside—like dead dogs in the corner rough—which, it turns out, wasn’t too far off. The boxy one-story home had been neglected for years. It was fall in Prineville. “Hello?” a voice creaked from behind the door. “Uh, hello! I’m looking for—“ “Hello?” a voice creaked from behind the door, again. The delivery was odd, in falsetto, like someone was putting me on. Then again, everything about the situation seemed off. The windows were blocked. The yard was in tatters. The door had paint all over it—reds and yellows and blues applied in heavy, hasty strokes. It screamed artsy or anti-establishmentarian. Maybe both. “Is that Greg?” I called through the door. “It’s—” “Hello?” a voice creaked from behind the door, yet again. OK, ha-ha. Someone was indeed having some fun. The door cracked opened. Behind it stood a man in his 50s with a square jaw and a thick build. His hair was British rocker shaggy and bound by a wide, black headband. “Jesus,” the man said, sizing me up. I’m 6’7”. “Do you play?” He was 5’4”. “Yeah, man, miniature golf. I crush it.” “Fuck you.” The Greg Stump show had begun. Recognize that name? If you do, chances are pretty high you’re a skier in the 35-65-year-old range with a soft spot for neon and Vuarnets. You owned skis that were longer and hotter than a spoiler on a cherry red Fiero. Perhaps you also remember how stodgy ski areas in the ’80s were. No jumping, no snowboarding, no going fast. Then along came Stump and showed us another way. Gregory Stump, or Stumpy, as he calls himself, was the man behind the classic ski film, The Blizzard of Aahhh's, that 1988 free-riding lodestar that introduced us to O.G. rippers like Glen Plake, Mike Hattrup and Scot Schmidt. The movie was loud and brash in a frozen rockumentary kind of way and it did a daffy right into the ski-film apple cart of the day. Take the folksy fun of a Warren Miller movie, tie it to a chair and give it a mohawk: That was Blizzard. “Stumpy introduced Americans to the alt-ski experience,” said Steve Casimiro, editor of Powder magazine from 1987-1998. “Before, skiing was Wang Wong, worm turn, quaalude-ish chill—and after you have go-go, greed is good, charge forward at great speed. The committed skier went from hippie to extremist and Greg was right there for that.” Right. Greg Stump. Legend. And he lives in Prineville.
bendmagazine.com
\ WINTER 2017
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