Annals of Extremism–Cliff Jumping The ski season is approaching. Are you bored with gliding down groomed cruiser runs? Want to try something a little different this year? Something that will get the blood racing, the wind roaring, the intestines knotting…and the bones breaking? How about skiing off a cliff….a big cliff….a really, really big cliff. Skiing magazine is not so sure the rush for big air is good for the sport, but that doesn’t make its take on cliff jumping or its whacked-out addicts any less interesting. We get to meet a surly, 30-year old, egomaniac named Jamie Pierre, who launches off a 160-foot cliff near Brighton in Utah, and pulls off a cartwheel on the way down. Pierre sticks the landing but suffers a concussion-induced seizure 15 minutes later. “I’ve averaged at least one concussion per year since the early ’90s,” Pierre tells [Skiing’s reporter]. He seldom wears a helmet: “If it’s a matter of my body going instantly from terminal velocity to zero, a helmet isn’t gonna help much.” Uhhh, okay, Jamie. At least Pierre has managed to avoid the fate of a Tahoe bartender named Paul Ruff…so far. Ruff famously splattered himself in 1993 attempting a world record, also with a 160-footer. As he skied toward the edge his subconscious started screaming, not unreasonably: “My God, man, are you stark, raving insane??!!” The result was a little hesitation turn that slowed Ruff down just before he went airborne, and that in turn was just enough to keep him from clearing a pile of volcanic rock close to the base of the cliff. Oops. Pierre plans to try for a world record, too. Unfortunately, the world record has been upped a little since Ruff’s tragic last leap–by a New Zealander named Paul Ahern, who in 1995 managed to survive an unbelievable…225 foot jump (he landed on wind-packed snow with a backpack full of styrofoam to cushion the blow). Pierre has got his eye on a 235-foot spot on the backside of Grand Targhee. Skiing asks him how he survives each ever-increasing jump. “I stomp my skis into the snow, double click my poles together, and say a Hail Mary,” he says. Oh, now I see. Umm, good luck with that, then.



“Our Father, who art in heaven…..”

(Photo: Skiing magazine)