The Telemark Newschool Goes Jaded

At first I thought it couldn’t be. The nascent new movement in telemark, with its film tours, light-hearted social media presence and hip, youthful style, seemed too fresh to already find itself resigned to that hard-to-thrill indifference of adulthood. But in hindsight, hints abounded.

There were the groaning sighs that came from the budding young telemark scene every time someone commented on Instagram that a rail had indeed been slid before using free-heel gear. And there were signs that the new free-heel movement had been beaten down by the history protection and the “that’s not telemark” posturing that filled online dialogue. Not to mention their own overeagerness to dive in and defend themselves (I see you, Greg Yearsley).

But nothing could have prepared me for the clincher; the startling weariness of the telemark newschool’s crown prince, one CJ Coccia, creator of TELE COLO, the most important catalyst of the modern telemark movement; an energetic and positive sort known for his taking of high roads as much for his giddy high energy.

In what felt like a capitulation (we had been talking about the friction between TELE COLO and Josh Madsen, after all) Coccia wistfully entered the realm of acquiescence. “Honestly, I don't think tele has evolved into a spot that's any bigger than what it was 20 years ago,” he told me. “We're just constantly going back through building the same framework that was already done before because it never stays consistent or we never get enough people to keep it going where it starts to grow more and more.”

The salty moment had in fact arrived. The telemark newschool had gone jaded.

Perhaps it’s little wonder that telemark’s new guard has been relegated to this most adult of mental states even before many of their rank have attained crow’s feet. In a wider telemark scene that overindulges in the world wide web and its propensity for us-versus-them lines drawn in the sand, the sport’s dialogue has become one of camps and crosshairs. While some of the reminders that certain things were achieved on telemark gear prior to the social media frenzy are warranted, the way it’s been pushed on the newschool has created a feeling of defensiveness, instigating a tide of blowback that may not always be justified, but is nonetheless now part of the discourse.

“Telemark skiers think that everyone owes them something. I don't understand it. Like, ‘I grew up on leather and lace.’ Okay, that's fine. I grew up without a cell phone. My nephew didn't. That's the world. Right?” podcaster, provocateur, and leading newschool telemark voice Adam Sauerwein recently told me.

“You have to move forward, and I think telemark is so caught in the past that it's just spinning its tires,” he concluded.

This fatigue with what the newschool sees as a staid old guard–or at least a subset of it prone to gatekeeping–seems operative to the movement and its figure’s disillusionment. But it speaks to wider developments, and brings to light questions of the subculture’s evolution. Is this push-pull of new-versus-old inevitable in telemark? And is Coccia’s notion of telemark’s unbroken cycle of rise and fall similarly engrained in our sport?

Whatever it is–be it a cocktail mixed with all of the above served with a dose of fatigue and shaken by the hands of time–the telemark newschool has perhaps a bit prematurely entered the unenthusiastic throes of later adulthood. There is a sort of resigned indifference now standing alongside the idealistic musings typical of their youthful subculture.

And perhaps Coccia is right: that telemark never really gets anywhere. What a stark realization, not unlike many (all?) of us feel as the clock moves on. This is what adulthood feels like? Cue the jade.

But while this indifferent state of affairs may seem of little import, I would argue otherwise. While I love to lean into my own jadedness with the best of them, I surmise that anyone concerned with the health of the telemark subculture would be well-endeavored to wonder. What is going on in our scene that can render such feelings? And would telemark benefit from more widespread positivity and mutual support over the rugged individualism long endemic in the free-heel realm?

Part of me also wonders if this is simply the nature of not just something this niche and esoteric, but if telemark’s very essence may engender a certain level of resignation: jadedness with the mainstream, or with the constant misunderstanding from without of something so simple, slightly unconventional, yet often so misinterpreted. It is remarkable how a technique for sliding downhill on snow can elicit such incredulity from outsiders–even those inside the scene. But that may be part of its fabric.

Still, all is not lost. While the luster always fades, finding meaning in the confusion of adulthood is a powerful, almost subversive force. And, while the positive may argue against this, being jaded can aid in that. This ever-so-slight cynicism reminds you of your own values, and lets your path blossom on its own accord, not any one else’s. It may not be tuned to widespread appeal or youthful relevance, but in that mire of graying hair a sort of transcendent genuineness renders that’s eminently core to its own soul. Because while the jaded seem beaten into indifference by the death of idealism, there exists a reality–maybe even maturity–in that it eschews the extraneous.

Perhaps the telemark newschool is entering that paradigm. Coccia himself–drained by the internet dialogue–has seen its warts frame his own convictions. “I think it's worn me to the point where I don't know if it's positive for my time, which is already exhausted, trying to do all of this in the first place to try to convince some person that's wanting to misinterpret what this is all about,” he says.