The Oakley Arctic Challenge 2010

Most event reports start with a bit of a plan. A plan of knowing where to be and at what time, and some sort of idea of the angle or theme to base the report on. In contrast, this report has ended up to be a mash of unplanned and ill-timed events with a few too many over-priced beers thrown in.

I traveled down with my girlfriend from further north in Norway to Oslo on the Friday, which meant I was already to miss the qualifiers of The Oakley Arctic Challenge and a chance to check out which riders were looking good for the weekend ahead. So with that fact quietly brushed aside, we caught a taxi to the riders' hotel that evening in Oslo Sentrum to meet up with the Method boys and head to a "brown pub", as they so inelegantly call them in Norway (basically, just like any old pub you get in England), for a few drinks which inevitably turned into more drinks... y'know the story.

Overview of the course, including the Viking ship start gate Photo: Frode Sandbech

Feeling as though I had been shot several times in the head by an deranged elk hunter, Saturday afternoon was suddenly upon me, with my body still collapsed upon a sofa... my brain apparently somewhere else entirely. This is where brains and plans really help — alas, I had neither. It was already 1:00pm and I knew the second heat of the contest was due to start within the hour, and I also knew it was going to take about an hour to get to Tryvann Vinterpark (the small resort just outside of Oslo where TAC was being held). Feeling hazily ambitious, I set off to catch the final heat of the day.

I had been to Tryvann earlier in the year with my girlfriend, who is Norwegian and quite a handy person to have around in these situations, but this time I was going alone (she was feeling worse than I was). Although she did accompany me to the train station, like a kid on his first day at a new school, where she waved me goodbye for the afternoon. After the train ride from the city, a bus was waiting to take the general public of snowboarders, skiers and a disturbing amount of city-slick tobogganists further up the mountain.

Peetu clinched his second TTR title with this massive frontside tail boner on the hip Photo: Olav Stubberud

The bus came to its destination, which I noticed wasn't the same destination as the last time I had taken the bus up here. Slightly confused, I asked a noble-looking Norwegian man the way to the main ticket office, who explained that it would take me twenty minutes by foot to get there. Hmm.. I didn't really expect this, but of course the man seemed noble enough, so I trusted him and started trekking along a cross-country ski track into the forest. Thirty sweaty, aimless minutes later, I was still in the forest with the ski track presenting me with three diverging routes, without sign posts — great! Then, just like magic, I spotted an energy drink bottle sitting comfortably in the snow, probably left by a skier, concerned that a hapless snowboarder would be trudging by at some point in need of a welcoming boost of black current juice. Thank you, concerned skier!

And so with a juice-boosting guessing game, I chose the right route and eventually ended up on the slopes of Tryvann — although somewhat lower down the mountain, and lower from the ticket office, than I had hoped. I rode down to the bottom of the nearest chairlift, embarrassingly having to explain to the liftie that I had taken an alternative adventure to the resort, who luckily let me on and to the top of the mountain. Time was getting on, so I needed to get my lift ticket and over to the comp right away to stand a chance of seeing any of the Saturday Arctic action. It wasn't going to be. I was told by the guy at the ticket office that in order to get to the event, I needed to have taken a bus from an entirely different train station in Oslo to the other side of the mountain (called Wyllerløypa). Seriously! I really had left my brain behind somewhere the night before. Well, there was only one thing left to do... ride! Anyway, why would I want to watch the world's best slopestyle riders at one of the world's best events? Heavy-hitters such as Eero Ettala, Heikki Sorsa, Chas Guldemond, Antti Autti and Marko Grilc. Ironically enough, none of these guys made the cut to Sunday's final — Air & Style winner Grilo just missing out in eleventh spot.

Torstein blasting a buttery ass back 180 off the Protest jib Photo: Frode Sandbech

And so it was onto the second installment of Method mashness, this time at the official TAC party at the Ballroom in Oslo. Now be aware, Norway does not do drink on the cheap, and especially at private parties like this. You either had to be Terje's best mate ever or... well, the man himself, if you wanted anything that resembled a reasonably priced beer. Not that that seemed to have any disparaging effect on the brilliant mess that the party ultimately became. If I had missed the Saturday semis due to the night before, surely no one at this party stood any chance of being at the finals on Sunday.

Bang Bang has the best style in snowboarding right now, indy nose bone booster Photo: Frode Sandbech

Somehow, I felt a bit fresher when I woke up, and so it was with my eagerness to make up for the previous day that I quickly got ready and headed for the Arctic Challenge — in the right direction and with support from my girlfriend. We arrived at the bottom of the Viking-themed slopestyle course and joined the assembled crowd (maybe a thousand people or so) just in time for the finals.

Jason Horton had said that this year's Arctic Challenge consisted of "a bunch of kids I never heard of, doing a bunch of tricks I never heard of", and I kind of felt the same. With so many of the big guns out of the running, it was with a generally unfamiliar line-up to a 6Star Swatch TTR final that saw up-and-coming riders including Seppe Smits, Eric Willett, Mark McMorris, Sage Kotsenburg and Tore Holvik make an impressive account of themselves. Canadian McMorris' double cork backside 1080 to frontside 7 to double backside rodeo 900 was insane, just as was Seppe's back 12 to Cab 5 to front 7, which had him in first place to begin with.

Torstein cranking a sweet switch back 12 off the first jump Photo: Olav Stubberud

Among the lesser-known shreds in the final were three big names: Finnish rider Peetu Piiroinen and Norwegian hometown heroes Torstein Horgmo and Mikkel Bang. The Bangsta put himself into the lead in the second round with a switch backside 12 and a massive indy nose bone over the hip. Bang Bang wasn't able to better that run in the third round, so his second round points remained. Torstein had struggled to put down the run he wanted in the first two rounds, but came through in the final round with a 540 rail combo, boardslide to cab 270 out, switch backside 12, frontside 7 and backside 7 cross court drifter into the hip.

This meant Horgmo was sitting pretty in first place, leaving Smits, McMorris and Piiroinen to step it up. And the Flying Finn did just that, with an amazing run consisting of boardslide to Cab 5, backside 10 late cork, backside rodeo and a stupidly big frontside crail to smash the points on the hip. Smits and McMorris weren't able to better their previous runs — and so it was, Peetu Piiroinen was winner of The Oakley Arctic Challenge 2010 and proud sitter of a fur-rugged throne while the media gathered round for interviews. Torstein claimed second spot and third went to Mikkel. Peetu's win meant the points he gained were enough to also grab the title of Swatch TTR World Tour Champion for the second year in a row, with the award to be presented to him at the US Open later this month.

Another angle of P2's bossy frontside sender on the last hit Photo: Frode Sandbech

The crowd dispersed, leaving the officials to take down the barriers and the groupie-media to continue stuffing cameras into Peetu's face. Just enough time to grab some swag from the brand stalls and off we went back into the city on the right bus to reflect on an impressive performance from the finalists, who I am sure will be stoked on bettering the skills of all the heavyweight riders I never even got to see.

by Thrilly Tom

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