Snapshots of "Ten and Two:" A Year in the Life of Stept

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“Seamus!” Belts out a loud voice. It’s my roommate Tim. “Get your shit together dude, come on. It’s already peak tanning hours, and you’re inside sleeping.”

I abruptly lift my head up off the pillow, look around the living room with a bird’s eye view from my homemade loft and think to myself, “Holy shit, what the hell am I doing?” It’s just past 10 in the morning in Boulder, CO. It’s early June. Situated on top of my sleeping platform—crafted from two-by-fours and plywood—I aggressively rip the sheets off of my body.

“What, are you butt naked up there?” questions my roommate impatiently. I can feel each of my pupils trying to adapt to the light at different wavelengths, causing me to think I’m still tripping. To some, this would instill concern, but for the majority of people I spend time with, this is the norm.

Before I climb down my ladder, Charlie Owens, a brown-haired, hillbilly-looking lunatic, walks through the front door. He’s carrying a handful of PBR cans as if they were the last of his possessions. He’s dressed in black pants, black boots and a full torso neck brace. “Chuck!” I cry out. “You get laid last night?”

“Nah, dude, I ended up walking home and passing out,” replies Charlie. “What’s the word though? You guys ready to turn up? I’m already down two cold ones and Brogan said he’s got some beer over at his place so we should probably start making moves.” As one of the youngest of the group, Chuck isn’t worried about being looked down upon for drinking so early in the day. Living down the street is close friend Jon Brogan who shares the same outlook.

At this point, I experience a wave of F.O.M.O., forcing me to expedite the process of getting dressed. In the bedroom below my loft is Clayton Vila, a surfer-turned-skier from Block Island, RI. “Someone get Clayton up and tell him we’re going,” I mutter as I step into my Timberlands. Normally, summertime calls for Tevas and bathing suits, but when you’ve been on a multi-week bender, being able to stomp out glass when the opportunity presents itself certainly beats the fear of succumbing to tan lines. “Where the hell is Sean, anyways?” I question while looking around.

“He’s over in the office,” answers Chuck before making his way across the wooden deck outside the apartment to rally the troops. Originally from Scranton, PA, Sean Jordan spent his earlier years skiing around the Pocono Mountains before moving out to Colorado.

After pushing open the door to apartment 7, Chuck finds Jordan, accompanied by executive producer Nick Martini and cinematographer-editor Isaac Sokol at the computers. Alex Martini, producer, is in the loft shuffling through camera gear. The office is quiet and dark on account of the shades being drawn and a sour smell emanates from the 30-gallon trash barrel filled with empty beer cans and Jimmy John’s wrappers. In the other room, laying face down is a fully dressed, semiconscious Cam Riley—the director. There are no sheets on the bed and his shoes are still on.

This is the off season.

Watch: Stept Productions’ Ten and Two trailer

Months earlier, outside of these same apartments, we were packing a walk-in trailer—to be towed behind Cam’s F-150—prepping for a season-long trip that would come close to driving each of us to the point of no return. Sick of watching footage from the previous winter, we collectively agreed to dedicate ourselves to the frost season. Clayton would work on his upcoming solo project while Chuck, Sean, Cam and I would film for Stept’s new movie. Our goal was to spend the winter on the road, with New England as a starting point. Despite the possibility of hurting ourselves, there were no alternatives. This is what we do.

Our crew consists of past, present and future college students who serve as the cinematographers, photographers, athletes, editors and music buffs of our operation. True to our roots, we shoot a large portion of our film projects on the East Coast. Filming back east is favorable for a few reasons. In addition to knowing the lay of the land, our efficiency is usually heightened as we’re able to save money by staying with family and friends. Eventually, we’ll head west, stopping at numerous locations along the way and taking turns paying for lodging, beer and gas.

Looking back at the 2013-14 season, it seems impossible to recount everything that went down. There were moments of triumph as well as instances of defeat. As a result, this piece focuses on the here-and-there of our operation from my perspective. It is a series of recollections from the months of December to July, ones which I believe to be a truthful representation of our season as a whole.

December 4, 2013: Early snowfall in Boulder, CO. The crew is together, catching static from maintenance crews and CU Boulder campus security. We’re working out the kinks while we get back into the swing of things. It’s been a while since we last filmed in the streets. Our skiing, filming and prep work are pretty rusty.

December 8, 2013: It’s Chuck’s 21st birthday, and we’re sending it at the Walrus, a ratchet bar on Walnut Street. We’re squad deep. After getting cut off at the bar, we become aggressive. Guys grabbing guys. Sleeper holds. Handcuffs. We’re just about arrested, but after pleading with police officers, they let us go. That’s our cue. We’ve been partying in Boulder too long and need to get back on the road.

December 13, 2013: We depart for the East Coast. Some of us are in it for the long haul, taking the F-150 cross country, while the rest of the crew flies from Denver International to Logan airport.

December 20, 2013: Christmas lights denote the beginning of winter in New England. We’re filming at Billy Taylor Park in Providence, RI. Ziploc coke baggies are being sold at the corner store, and we ask ourselves, “Are we blending in or drawing attention?” We head back to Boston. Low on cash, we resort to lower rate hotels in the city such as the Buckminster and the Midtown. We branch out to different parts of downtown and the surrounding suburbs to work during the daytime, setting up features and helping each other get shots. At night, we hit the dive bars and pour out a few cold ones for the late Tom Warnick.

Early January 2014: We head up to New Hampshire to capitalize on some spots around Dover and UNH before dropping in on long-time friend and member of the crew, Joey Ciprari in Lowell, MA. We use his apartment as base camp for a while. Then the crew heads north for Canada. I hang back as I’m not allowed in the country due to a Class A misdemeanor charge I picked up when I was 18. Dom Laporte helps the gang to navigate through Québec. There have already been a handful of early winter storms there, and the snow is piling up. Chuck, Sean, Clayton and Cam are alternating roles at film spots in order to stack clips. Everybody is embracing the work hard, play hard mentality, and the hard drives are starting to fill up.

January 24, 2014: I buy a car off the side of the road in Maine and drive to Stoneham, MA, to meet up with the boys who’ve just made their way back from Canada. We check off a number of spots. We circle back to New Hampshire for a few days to revisit some classic Manchester zones that have been on the radar since the inception of urban skiing. There, we link up with friend and filmer Connor Scofield and get some more shots. The weather turns to shit, and the crew is happy to head elsewhere for a change of pace.

February 1, 2014: Our three-vehicle caravan heads to Syracuse, NY.

February 2, 2014: While filming on a football field during the Super Bowl, we realize where our priorities lie. We make fun of ourselves for this.

February 4, 2014: We ditch the Motel 6 in Syracuse and head for Cam’s dad’s apartment in Chicago. He somehow finds places for all 12 of us to sleep. The city is blanketed by snow.

February 5, 2014: Noah Albaladejo flies in from Spain. With almost the entire crew present, we split into separate units and go to work, using the lakefront as our backdrop. Nick and Alex find a way to get up into the air for shots. Nick hangs out of the helicopter. It’s 15 degrees below zero. Cam and Clayton are balancing skiing and filming as usual. These two have filmed the majority of my shots over the years, and I have come to appreciate this. Performing at a feature is hard enough. When you’ve been on the move nonstop, having to worry about what angles to choose, what camera settings to adjust, and how to film the shot while simultaneously thinking about the skiing makes it very difficult to maintain a positive outlook.

Everyone else on the team is making sure to do their part, as well. Jameson Walter, our newly-hired filmer, is getting an angle at each spot. Photographer Topher Baldwin is snapping photos. The rest of us—Charlie, Sean, Noah and me—are currently on as “the help,” which means running the winch, pulling bungee, doin’ dirt and crushing push-ups.

February 8, 2014: Clayton is getting absolutely worked as he deals with unfavorable weather. Winching into a rail at high speed, he flies through the air and then catches an edge on the soft metal, sending him headfirst into the ground at the bottom of the stairs. His shoulder is separated.

February 9, 2014: The crew is starting to slow down. We’re getting burnt out from the filmmaking process, and we attempt to stay sane by getting drunk. We’re partying in the city, and I rip my shirt in half at the club. I look like an intoxicated skinhead, but I don’t give a fuck. My BAC is high, and I have no control over my actions. The rest of the boys are in a similar state. Cam is the only responsible one and wakes everyone up in the morning, motivating the crew to remain ambitious.

February 15, 2014: At an abandoned post office, we get ambushed by some douchebag with a truck and a cell phone. We flee the scene. He follows, matching our speed as well as every turn. Trying not to panic, we turn off onto a side street and lose our bogie. Breathing erratically, we reroute all the way back to Deerfield, IL, where we’re greeted with weed and mental security.

February 27, 2014: We shoot in Milwaukee, WI for a day and then drive to the Best Western in Duluth, MN.

February 28, 2014: The crew starts up with the continental breakfast before splitting into separate groups, each with its own mode of transportation. About five minutes after leaving the hotel, Jameson, Noah and Chuck get T-boned by a taxi van, forcing both vehicles into an active construction site. The four-way intersection becomes a mess. The truck they were driving is totaled. Thankfully, nobody is hurt. Cam sends Jameson to the police station to “deal” while everyone else prepares to shoot a new feature. Welcome to the crew, bud.

Time goes on. We stack. Cam tries some risky shit knowing that our enthusiasm is waning. I’m running the winch as he sends his body off of a building. Typical Cam. We’re staying at one of the most trap Super 8s thus far and worry about people breaking into our cars. We put out a prison-like vibe in hopes of warding off anyone trying to front. We’re routinely eating breakfast at the Burger King across the lot. Everyone is over it and wants to be back home. Cam and Topher fly out of Minneapolis, leaving us to drive the rest of the way back to Boulder.

On the day of our departure, Chuck and I rush through breakfast, hop in the car and jet, gaining a head start on Jameson and Noah. They’ve got the F-150. A few hours into our drive, we crash. Violently. Disoriented, I find myself reaching over the passenger seat for Chuck to make sure he’s still there. We end up in the median of the highway, roughly 100 miles outside Minneapolis. Gear everywhere. Windshield smashed. The driver side door is inoperable because the car is half buried in snow. The car is greatly altered. I am alive. Chuck is alive. Let’s rewind.

Chuck and I are approaching an 18-wheeler in the left lane at roughly 80 mph. Our tires lose traction thanks to a strip of black ice, and the Subaru drifts sideways. We roll four or five times before landing upright in the snowy median. Chuck is pretty shook up. He wasn’t wearing his seatbelt. I’m also mentally shaken. Immediately, we call Jameson for help. A few minutes later, he and Noah arrive at the scene, followed by a state trooper and a tow truck.

We say goodbye and thank you to the Subi, and then leave it forever, knowing we’re lucky to still be breathing. The car gets towed to a junkyard, and we transfer all of our gear into the trailer of our last remaining vehicle. Fourteen hours later, we’re in Boulder, where we’re happy to chill for a couple of weeks. Chuck finds his way back to Breckenridge and skis with a sore neck—still bothering him after the crash. It would be almost two weeks before he went to the doctor to find out that it had been broken the whole time.

March 25, 2014: The clock is ticking, and we don’t have much time left for filming, Isaac and Topher fly to Québec in order to film with skiers Alex Beaulieu-Marchand and Alex Gorham. Both Cams, Clayton, Jameson and I fly east to meet up with photographer Erik Seo in Maine.

His first time back on skis since injuring his shoulder, Clayton is feeling the pressure but remains optimistic. I show the guys around Lewiston-Auburn. We sleep at my parents’ house and shoot at multiple spots during the daytime. Clayton eats shit. I eat shit. Our bodies are beginning to shut down because of all the abuse, but we push through it to get more footage. It’s 10 a.m. and we’re streaming the Bruins game on the radio while shoveling. Cam gets drunk as he roots them on.

April 4, 2014: Cam and Clayton drive to Canada to get a few days of shooting in before retiring for the winter, while the rest of us fly back to Colorado. Thankfully, street filming is officially done for the season.

The rest of April and May is spent abusing various substances, organizing footage, editing clips, trying to get laid, skateboarding, eating egg sandwiches at Deli Zone, throwing shit off of people’s roofs, passing out fully dressed, funneling beers at Brogan’s house, generally binging on alcohol, pouring hella drinks out and realizing how unhealthily we’re living but not caring due to our college-town surroundings. In essence, we’re getting back to our normal life.

July 2014: It’s a Tuesday night, which means the Goose Bar in Boulder is hosting “Babe Night.” Girls drink for free. We’re all getting fucked up.

All of our skiing gear has been put away. The office smells even worse than it did before. With the whole crew present, our pregame rituals include putting footage together, bouncing ideas off one another and watching World Star videos. Soon, Ten and Two will be complete. We’ll share it with the world. It will be winter again before we know it. Snow will fly, and we’ll migrate back to the streets, once again.

For now, it’s time to enjoy the party.

Click here to download Ten and Two on iTunes.

Note: This article appears in FREESKIER magazine Volume 17.2. The issue is now available via iTunes Newsstand. Subscribe to FREESKIER magazine. Ten and Two is now available via steptproductions.com; get it here.