Jeremy Jones
When Jeremy Jones saw a snowboard for the first time in a general store in Vermont, his nine-year-old self thought, "It's about time."
Growing up skateboarding and surfing on the East Coast, these new wood boards, with nary a binding or hint of design innovation in sight, brought together all of his favorite things.
From the first time he dragged his first board up a hill in the backyard, across a career spanning more than two decades, snowboarding for the legendary eight-time Big Mountain Rider of the Year has come full circle. Over the years, and some of the steepest vertical slopes ever ridden, Jeremy's name became synonymous with big mountain heli-boarding. These days, it takes more than a plush ride to get Jeremy's adrenaline pumping in the mountains. For reasons as varied and as colorful as his career, he's abandoned the luxury of technology for the solitude and adventure of self-propelled big mountain riding. That love for the outdoors and innovation is the O'Neill way.
By the time he was 13, Jeremy had already logged several seasons on his snowboard when the resorts finally decided to allow them on the mountains. Not knowing how to handle these hooligans, the resorts "certified" snowboarders to ride. Jeremy was the first to get certified, "but that all ended quickly…instantly," he laughs. Someone figured out that if a "certified" snowboarder crashed into someone, the resort was responsible. Soon he found he was spending less and less time at the resort and more time in his backyard, solo, hiking out to ride down.
In those early days of snowboarding, progress was slow, painfully slow. Jeremy remembers, "I'd be looking at my skis and then look at my snowboard and think, 'Why does it look like this?'"
The transition from amateur to pro proved more difficult still. Without the sponsors and the support today's athletes may take for granted, Jeremy started competing at 14 and though averaging about 35 contests a season, he didn't stay in a hotel until he was 20.
On the way out West to his first competition, Jeremy stopped to visit his brother in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. In that one visit, he knew he no longer wanted to be a world champion. "I wanted to wash dishes and ride Jackson Hole every day," he said.
At home now in the Sierras, Jeremy's walls are covered with trophies of his greatest exploits: photographs. The contest trophies are stuffed in the corner. "My biggest reward, and what has fulfilled me more than anything else, are the mountains I've ridden," he said. "I've gone into a handful of mountain ranges around the world and taken snowboarding to the next level."
This next level is going back to the beginning. In part a reaction to critics who claimed anyone could ride big lines with a heli budget like Jeremy's, his new chapter of exploration – full foot-powered expedition snowboarding into some of the most inaccessible lines in the world – seeks to recapture the solitude and pure adventure wiped away by easy access.
Jeremy's acclaimed film, "Deeper," with Teton Gravity Research, was released in 2010. A two-year exploration into the world's most inaccessible ranges, "Deeper" delivered a very positive message: world-class freeriding is available to anyone willing to work. Later this year, he'll be releasing a follow-up, entitled "Further," based on his new experiences with big mountain riding.
It's this return to the basics that prompted Jeremy's recent "Protect Our Winters" project. A non-profit organization dedicated to reversing the global warming crisis by uniting the winter sports community, POW was inspired by Jeremy's travels and realizations that snow levels were rising and the mountains themselves were changing. Bringing this message to the home front, Jeremy spends much of his time now rediscovering the Sierras. "I can drive three hours around here, and feel like I'm in a whole new world."
Always on the forefront of snowboarding's evolution, wherever Jeremy will go, riders will follow.