Next Gen

Dear Future Super Hero,

I am writing to you as I know that you will forget your power many times. I am here to remind you that whatever you dream of is achievable. No obstacle is too big, no challenge too tough. You are the eye of the storm. As steady as the mountain. Strong as the wind. When we are born into this life, we are close to our source. When you gaze into the eyes of a newborn baby, what you see is love. This love follows us through our lives. It is always accessible, yet we tend to stray from it, seeking love from someone outside of ourselves, thinking of meaning and peace as something in the far distance. Truth is, love is always already here. In every breath, in every heartbeat, in every challenge and in every celebration. Remember who you are. May this letter shine light upon you; you are young now, still a child, but you have already come so far.

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Our love for something always guides us exactly where we need to be. And while following that calling is not always easy, it is most certainly worth it, every single time. For Janina Kuzma, the love of adventure, of exploration, has always been part of her life. It started in her early years growing up in the steamy jungles of Borneo; eventually, it made her see the world through the expression of skiing. And her curiosity never ceases, whether it’s competing in the Olympics in pipe skiing or riding spines in Alaska. For her, it’s not just about riding powder, although, she is a powder lover. It´s about inviting new perspectives, about learning from different people and cultures around the world.

Knowing Janina for almost ten years now, it did not surprise me when she decided to become a ski guide. She thrives seeing people enjoy the mountains. When people get scared, she is there to lead them through the challenge. She never judges anyone wishing to learn more about the backcountry. When she makes her powerful arcing turns on an untouched face, you feel inspired to rip it yourself. She makes you feel confident and believe in your abilities.

Despite the fact that pro skiers like Janina travel the world, skiing in the most incredible places, home is always home. If you love where you live, it’s natural that you want to share it with your friends. Janina is no different, and she was eager to show me and Leanne Pelosi (we’re all team athletes for The North Face) one of her favourite places on earth: NZ’s Westland District.

The district lies west of the Southern Alps’ main divide, with its eastern boundary delineated by some of the country’s highest peaks, including Aoraki/Mt Cook. Glaciers drip off these peaks to both the east and the west, but those heading to the latter, into the Westland District, can run all the way down into forests so verdant, so thick and luxuriant, that the first thing Leanne says as we roll up the road towards Fox Glacier is “Are we in Hawaii?” I have never been to Hawaii, but I can understand the similarities. Driving by the coastline and seeing the mountains appear through the lush green forest is spectacular. Fox appears to be a jungle glacier. I have not seen anything like it.

We are fortunate to have Leanne with us. A most extraordinary human being and snowboarder from Canada, Leanne is finding her way back to riding having just giving birth to her baby boy, Khyber, and her lightness and sparkling energy is just what we need for our adventure.
But Janina and I know something Leanne doesn’t. A few weeks prior to this trip, Janina told me a secret. Something big is about to happen, and this trip will be blessed by something truly special. Leanne does not know any of this yet, so I have to keep it to myself.

When we arrive at Fox Glacier—the three of us plus a film and media crew, along with our guide and photographer Tom Vialletet—the weather is not ideal for flying, so we spend our first night in Porter Memorial Lodge. It’s an experience in itself; bunk beds, a shared kitchen, and a fireplace. I cook some dinner, and the crew gets settled in. Then I look at Janina. It´s time to reveal the secret. Janina looks at Leanne.

“Hey Leanne, we have a fourth girl joining us on this trip. I am pregnant.”

Leanne bursts into tears. As a mother, she knows the feeling of carrying life, of giving birth and growing into a new aspect of oneself as a parent. “This trip,” she says, “just turned into something truly special.”

We go to bed that night feeling excited and grateful for life and for being able to share these experiences simply because our love for skiing and snowboarding brought us together.

The next morning, we fly off in a Huey 500. It’s the smallest helicopter I have ever seen. If you know me, I am not a fan of flying. I get motion sickness, and I prefer the stillness of walking. I have to say, though: This is a scenic flight. We get dropped off by Centennial Hut, and as soon as the helicopter disappears, we were alone on the mountain. We can see the blue ocean.

I gaze at Janina. She sees the excitement in my eyes. “I know!” she says, reading my mind. “That’s why I love this place so much.”

It’s the 9th of August, early to be up here; it takes time for snow to cover the glaciers. On the flip side, we are alone in the hut and on the mountain. Almost immediately, we start to scope for potential ski descents. I see line after line, so many options. But my eyes are glued to the Aigrette. We all agree we should head over there and get a feel for the snow.

It’s midday and the sun is beaming when we arrive at the bottom, and it´s really hot. The snow is sticky. Tom (our mountain guide and photographer) and Janina dig a snow pit and start examining the snow. It´s a no go. I had a feeling we would be a bit too late. I really want to ski the face, but I know deep inside it’s a bad idea. Today is not the day. As we make our way back towards the hut, I am again awestruck by this place’s beauty—I feel so lucky and grateful to be here. We try a few low-angle descents, but because the sun is setting, the snow morphs from creamy powder to sun crust. It’s not favourable, and we struggle to find something that looks good on camera. The day ends with a beautiful mini-run next to the hut, riding towards the ocean and setting sun.

Of course, while you always want to find good snow, there’s much more to a trip when you’re in a place like this. There are the people, the talks in between, the scenery, the connection to nature. Away from all the tasks and distractions of everyday life, you become realigned with yourself. You feel alive. Refreshed. Connected.

This trip’s theme is, of course, the great miracle that Janina is carrying. She and her husband Chris have been wanting a child for some time, and it’s a blessing that finally a soul has chosen them. Leanne, a superb role model and pep talker, shares her inspiration and her love for being a mum. But we also share our fears, one of them being how choosing to have children might affect our positions as professional skiers.

It’s not just female pro skiers affected by this, of course; I believe many women, especially in our modern world, are fearful of announcing their pregnancies to their bosses. And more broadly, regardless of gender, becoming a parent is most likely the most life-changing event you’ll ever have. I strongly believe that one of those changes is newfound strength. For a woman, carrying a child for nine months and giving birth shows her a power she may never have thought she had. Feeling life inside you, and then seeing it enter this world, is beyond magic. I personally bow to all mothers after being my sister’s doula for her two sons.

The night at Centennial is cosy. The act of preparing dinner, and once in a while going outside to check the night sky, is serene. I always love being outside cell reception; it feels like time slows down, and every moment is cherished for what it is. No distraction; no controlling of any situations. Life is happening and you are there to experience it.

“The reward at the top is phenomenal. Standing on the divide where east meets west, you can see so, so far, and beautiful mountains are everywhere.”

Before first light, our alarms go off. We make our way to Mt Aurora, and as the sun rises, we feel the temperature rising too. We start climbing up the face, and the snow is terrible. Surrender is our best friend. Don’t expect anything, don’t try to control the situation. Mother Nature always decides, and whatever she gives is ours to accept and to make the best out of.

While walking up, we decide that we won’t ski the face. There must be something better. I set the track after the first technical part, and it’s not easy. But who says life should be easy? Challenge is growth, and that’s why we’re here.

The reward at the top is phenomenal. Standing on the divide where east meets west, you can see so, so far, and beautiful mountains are everywhere. We see majestic Aoraki and the glacier lake. We look down to the Tasman Glacier. After some time enjoying the views, we start exploring our options. We decide on Aurora’s southwest aspect; it looks like there’s actually good snow on the face.

“Who wants to go first?” Janina asks. “Doesn’t matter to me,” I reply.
“One of you two should,” Leanne says.
Janina and I look at each other. “You should go first,” I decide.
“OK.” Janina and the media crew get ready. “I’m nervous,” Janina says, but then it’s “Three, two, one … dropping.” Her big turns and the spray of powder reveals that our prayers were answered, and soon she is on the radio: “Hey, guys! The snow is awesome.”

I go second. I feel the effortless float of cold powder. I feel the silence of nature. I feel an unbeatable sense of freedom. I am so happy. Meeting Janina at the end of the run is a moment of gratitude, and there are tears of joy. “What a run you and baby dragon just had!” I exclaim as we hug. We watch Leanne rip the face, and we all feel so lucky and truly happy. Leanne is beyond excited: “That just made our trip!” As ever, when we let go of expectations, nature always rewards us in some way.

The three of us watch the media crew ski down. They are in complete bliss, and all wear broad smiles. It brings me joy. We start walking back to the hut, realising that our best chance for similar snow is to ski the same aspect. Just next to the hut we have a few small chutes that look awesome. We hike back up, leaving our cameramen at the bottom. The first chute doesn’t look appealing, so we aim for the third one. Leanne goes first; the way she rides is so beautiful to watch. Her powerful, big turns carry grace, and they make me want to learn to snowboard. I ski second, and it’s epic. Janina skis last and straightlines the chute. The three of us hike back to the hut as the sun is setting and the last light is gone from the face. What a day.

The weather report arrives via the satellite phone. Bad weather is coming. Either we try to leave tomorrow, or we chance being stuck in the hut for a while. Our initial plan to ski the Salisbury Snowfield is cancelled, and there isn’t enough snow to cross the Geikie Snowfield. Exiting from Chancellor Hut will also be tricky. We leave the decision to Jase, our DOP, director, and editor. “Are you happy with what we have?” we ask him. He is.

We send a message to Fox Glacier. In reply, we’re told to be ready to leave by 8AM tomorrow. Janina explains to us how it works: “If nobody comes to pick us up, then the weather is too bad to fly in, and we’ll have to wait until the next weather window.” Our fingers are crossed.

The last night in the hut is a celebration. We talk about life, and we have the whole team share their birth stories of their kids. Ross, Tom and Jase are dads, Leanne is a mom, Janina is pregnant, and I am my sister’s doula. My sister’s second baby could be born any day now, too; in fact, that’s another reason why we feel we should leave earlier, because I want to make sure I can fly back to Sweden in time for the birth.

All our kids have brought new essences to our lives. They have brought a greater connection and an unconditional love, and a new sense of stepping up to be the best that you can be. If not for yourself, then at least for your kid. You can´t give meaning to unnecessary things anymore. You simply don´t have time. As a parent, you enter a new aspect of yourself. But of course, you can embody all those traits without having a child; it’s a matter of tapping into those qualities inherent in all of us.

“Our kids have brought new essences to our lives. You can’t give meaning to unnecessary things anymore. You simply don’t have time.”

Morning comes and we quickly gather our gear, cook porridge and clean the hut. Working as a team, everything goes smoothly and swiftly. We stay warm in great anticipation. Then the wind picks up. They are supposed to have arrived by now. Janina decides that Leanne, Jase and I should go on the first load as we all have flights to catch. The minutes go by. Then we see the metal bird.

“OMG!” says Janina. “It’s the Huey 500. Why on Earth did they fly with that little thing?”

The chopper lands. We load the gear, get in, and off we go. It feels weird leaving the rest of the crew up there, not knowing if the Huey will be able to come back for them today; as we fly down to Fox Glacier, I can see bad weather rolling in. Meanwhile, I learn that heli pilots in New Zealand aren’t so concerned about high winds; it’s navigating in fog that’s the nightmare.

We land and get out. The chopper company starts refuelling and talking with the pilot. Dark clouds are incoming. But then the pilot jumps back in the Huey and flies back. Yes!

Thirty minutes later, we’re all reunited at the helipad, and then we start our journey back to Wānaka. On the way, we make a few stops in the lush, green forest. As I explore the different trees and plants, examining tree trunks and embracing rain showers, I feel like a kid. It is diverse and raw, mysterious and magical here.

Trips like this are about more than just a great ski run or exploring a new place. They are about the connections we make. How we come together for the stoke of riding, and how we leave with a deep love and respect for one another, with each human sharing their unique gifts. After every trip I feel, in a way, a little more whole. Like another piece of the puzzle has been found. And it’s not about reaching some kind of peace once the puzzle is completed; it’s about finding joy in putting all the bits together. I realise that peace within me does not come and go; it’s just my awareness of peace that comes and goes.

“Trips like this are about more than just a great ski run or exploring a new place. They are about the connections we make.”

Before Leanne and I leave New Zealand, we surprise Janina with a mini baby shower. Then, five days after I arrive in Sweden, me, my sister and her partner Mika drive to the hospital—it’s time to deliver their second baby boy. It’s another wild ride, and a lot quicker than their first born. At 1:13PM on the 20th of August, Neem is born. He is a healthy baby, with a serene energy. I feel immensely grateful that they wanted me present for birthing Nahko and now Neem. These two experiences have been by far the most extraordinary of my life. I am not a parent, yet I am changed.

Three months later Janina, Leanne and I are reunited at The North Face’s global athlete summit; I can see clearly that Janina is carrying a baby. Then, on January 17th, 5:57 PM Zoriah is born after a 64-hour labour. I am so glad that Janina is the woman to face such a feat! It shows her resilience and determination. Into the arms of the most loving parents, a healthy daughter has been born. I cannot wait to meet her.

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