“Backstage at Madison Square Garden during a historic two-night show for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame —which absolutely wouldn’t have been possible if these three guys hadn’t made it happen by committing early on to play the show,” Wenner says. Bono, Jann, Mick Jagger and Bruce Springsteen at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2009. Photo: Mark Seliger fter three-and-a-half hours and 30,000 vertical feet of high-speed shredding, it’s time for coffee. The warmth of Seattle Ridge Lodge, a high-ceilinged chalet atop Sun Val-ley’s southernmost ridgeline, is a welcome comfort after the sub-zero temps outside. We set our gloves next to the large fire and Jann pulls out his iPhone while I go grab coffee. When I return, he’s on the phone with his son Gus, talking excitedly about how good the skiing is and putting pressure on him to come to Sun Valley for the holiday weekend. I set the coffee down and hear, “Gus, I’ve gotta call you back. Bono is on the other line. Get your ass out here already!” The conversation between Jann and Bono is punctuated by laughter, two old friends catching up and making plans to see each other. Jann inevitably starts talking about the skiing, relating some highlights from the morning. Lost in his own enthusiasm, he breaks down the intricacies of snow and slope for his buddy— a casual beginner skier at best—until Bono cuts him off, likely asking, “Jann, what the hell are you talking about?” Jann stops with a laugh, saying, “It’s just such an incredible feeling !” They say their goodbyes and make plans to meet up on some Carib-bean island after the ski season ends. Jann sets the phone down, takes a long sip of coffee, smiles and looks out the floor-to-ceiling window muttering, “What a goddamn incredible feeling .” A Back outside, Jann finds his skis, special-edition K2s made with The Rolling Stones’ iconic Hot Lips design that were ordered by Mick Jagger for Jann. We blast down a few quick runs on Seattle Ridge, but the crowd has started to fill in and the snow feels cut up and scraped off compared to the morning’s buttery glory. On the lift, a call comes in about Lady Gaga’s ridiculous rider request for this year’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony that makes Jann laugh out loud. Then it’s another call about an HBO documentary in the works. A few more hot laps on Greyhawk—beautifully steep and still smooth at 2:30 p.m.—to finish the day and it’s unanimous, a five-star day all around. “Same time tomor-row?” Jann asks with a grin. couple months later I find myself backstage with Jann, Gus, and Bruce Springsteen in Nashville. It’s my first Springsteen concert and the Boss lives up to all the hype. At one point, I, one weed cookie deep and completely enthralled by the show, look over at Jann. He turns to me and smiles, his eyes sparkling with enjoyment, and I recognize the look immediately. It’s the same one I see after every good ski run. I lift my head and shout toward the lights above, “God-damn, what an incredible feeling! ” A Jann Wenner 043
The Ski Journal Volume 12, Issue 3: Page 43
