TOP TO BOTTOM White’s been known to give fans mullet cuts while on tour with Level 1 Productions. His Instagram, @jetfastwhite, often shares images of White’s fans cutting their own hair into the iconic 70s hairstyle. Photo: Blake Jorgenson “This is a great representation of Parker if you’ve never met him. It was one of our last days of the season in the Pemberton, BC backcountry and the snow was cooked. Instead of sledding back to the trucks he spent the day sledding shirtless on the glacier.” Photo: Sean Logan eeping things figured out over the past few seasons, however, hasn’t been easy, especially with the rise of the “social media influencer.” Parker has always influenced through a larger-than-life personality and pure talent, which only go so far in a landscape dependent on earning likes from followers you’ve never met. “The industry’s gotten to where you have to market yourself without fucking shame,” Freedle says. “Parker can’t do that, and it has hurt him. He’s like, ‘What is my role as a professional skier? I’m staying true to myself, I’m at the top of my game, but I can’t compete with influencers on Instagram for a paycheck.’” When the Big Picture wound down, Parker began losing sponsors, including Skullcandy and Monster. Then, in the summer of 2016, he got a phone call. It was Pat McCarthy, team manager for the iconic snowboard outerwear company 686, and he had a proposition. “I grew up with Forest Bailey, who rides for 686,” Parker says. “They were looking to add a skier to the team, and Forest gave Pat my name. Everything just kind of fell into place. It’s one of the most positive things that’s happened to me.” The same qualities that left Parker so stymied in the ski industry found fertile ground at 686, and he became the com-pany’s first ski athlete. He returned to Level 1 as well. Parker had left the company on good terms, and after Lite Years he approached Freedle about filming—an easy conversation, considering the two have lived together for the past five years. Berman and the rest of the crew were equally receptive, and— at least for Freedle—it wasn’t a surprise. “When the Big Picture ended, Parker didn’t try to milk it out,” he says. “The project had run its course, and he wanted to get back in the fold. A lot of people saw him shooting with Level 1 again as some kind of comeback. But you have to leave to come back, and Parker never left.” This fall, Level 1 released its 2018 film, Zig Zag . The cover art is a 1980s-esque cartoon of a skier doing a hand drag—a skier with a mustache and mullet. “From my perspective, there is no other skier I would rather have back into the fold with us,” Berman says. “His presence provided a whole new round of inspiration and motivation for certainly both Freedle and I, but for the rest of the crew too. Even if they don’t go on any trips with Parker or don’t ski with Parker, I think having him back meant a lot, to a lot of people.” K ack in Bellingham, the rain has picked up again, meaning the storms have likely returned to Mt. Baker, and Parker and Freedle decide to head toward the mountain in hopes of catching some early powder the next morning. Before they leave, I ask Parker what he thinks the next few years will bring. Unsurprisingly, his answer is straight to the point. “I’ll ski for the rest of my life, obviously, and as long as I can avoid a real job I’m still super lucky,” he says. “But I don’t want to be an industry party guy. I’m not interested in that. Once all my sponsors drop me and I don’t have any obliga-tions, I’ll probably just powsurf. Or I’ll do something else.” For Parker, it’s that simple. But though he jokes his spon-sors are going to leave him, in some ways he’s a bigger figure on the ski scene than he’s ever been. He was recently invited to Kimbo Sessions, a skatepark-esque event in Sweden, where he was the only backcountry specialist among park skiing’s elite, including the Bunch crew and a few Olympic medalists. “I think that speaks to the level of influence and respect Parker has,” Berman says. “Even those athletes, with vastly different skiing styles and focuses than Parker, still look up not only to what he has done, but what he continues to do.” Starting the 2018/19 season, Parker has another thing figured out: After a summer back in Vermont, he’s moving to Nelson, BC to finally become a Canadian (albeit tempo-rary). But there’s a very un-Canadian secret about Parker that Freedle lets me in on: Though he doesn’t do competitions and could care less about social media stats, when it comes to things like racquetball or S.K.A.T.E. Parker is extremely competitive. Freedle won’t play chess with him, to avoid risk-ing their friendship or work relationship. It seems surprising, until I ask Parker about the future of his mullet. Then it makes perfect, hilarious, outrageous sense. “I have a lifelong bet with Chris. If I cut my mullet, he gets to slap me in the face and I have to give him $20,” Parker says. “But if I keep it until the day I die, he has to slap my face at my funeral, in front of everybody. It’s going to be open casket, a big party with an open bar—super fun. And Chris is going to have to slap my dead corpse in the face, mullet and all.” B 074 The Ski Journal
The Ski Journal Volume 12, Issue 3: Page 74
