The Snowboarder's Journal • frequency 16.1 • The Ripple Effect: Chris Grenier Pays It Forward

Chris Grenier’s a working man—the kind of guy who will bust his ass to get a trick, who’ll slam repeatedly until he does it just right, and will then grab a shovel and help his crew get theirs, too. He understands that being a professional rider is both a job and a privilege and never takes it for granted. He’s always been that way.

I met Grenier at Mount Snow, VT, back in 2004, when we were both in high school. He was from Southborough, MA, 20 miles west of Boston. Our whole crew from western Massachusetts would go there to snowboard because they had a real-deal park, which hosted the X Games in 2000 and 2001. That first day we rode together he was dressed in an all-khaki outfit with no gloves. He was there to slide rails. He’d do everything switch, and a switch front boardslide seemed insane to me at the time. But Grenier was probably a better skater than snowboarder, and he skated goofy and rode regular, so it made sense.

We both decided to really give the snowboarding thing a go not long after we met. He and I did front 9s off the same park jump, met a rep, got some free boards and stickers—and thought we had it made. But Grenier kept grinding, kept moving up the food chain. He filmed with a few small companies coming up, got his break in Transworld’s Get Real in 2009, and has turned out a part every year since, including the ender in Videograss’ Mayday in 2014. In 2015, he won gold in the X Games Real Snow contest, as big a nod of recognition as you can get as a street rider.

Grenier has a list of tricks in his head and seeks out spots where he can get them done. He steps to big urban features and never stops to take a breather. He owns a house in Salt Lake City less than a mile from me, but he’s still a hardcore Bruins fan with that East Coast energy fully intact. Over the past couple years, he and Alex Andrews bought a property with a cabin in the hills above Salt Lake City and built a DIY park that they call the “Freedom Frontier.” With equal parts snow, skate and mountain bike features, it’s a year-round oasis powered by a ’76 Ford engine. It gives him a place to keep grinding every day, to decompress, to work on new ideas.

Now, at age 31, Grenier’s still pushing. Ever since he was a kid, he’s wanted this life more than anyone else. He wasn’t the most naturally talented—he just gave ’er and made it happen. Hang with Grenier, and that to-the-point approach comes through. He’s always got something funny to say, even in a serious situation. But at the same time, he’s an emotional dude and if he’s not happy, he’ll tell you. With Chris Grenier, what you see is what you get.

The Snowboarder’s Journal:
What was it like growing up in Southborough? Chris Grenier: It’s a smaller town in central Mass with small hills and a small snowboard scene. Pro snowboarding didn’t seem attainable. It’s a classic New England suburb where everybody drops their r’s and has a Boston accent. It’s perfect. People are so blunt and not afraid to tell you they don’t like you. There’s an authenticity to the people there that can’t be replicated.

My mom, Mary Lou, was an English teacher. And my dad, Ray, who goes by “Raymo,” trades stocks and started a financial advising company.

I have an older brother named Phil. He is a complete dipshit, but also an incredible human being. And I have an older sister named Andree. They both have two kids.

The pretty standard story, I guess. I started skateboarding first, then my friend Pete Glenn and I started snowboarding in the backyard on a little plastic Black Snow, building jumps. I was maybe 10 or 11. From there I got a Morrow Model T and we went to Ski Ward. It was my afterschool snowboarding playground, 10 minutes from my house, with 200 vertical feet. Tickets were $12 and the standard look is a Patriots Starter jacket, jeans and a couple Budweisers in your stomach. My parents could just drop me off there after school and I’d stay until closing. It was like going to the skatepark.

I mostly rode Ski Ward and Wachusett [Mountain Ski Area], then in middle school my dad got a spot at Mount Snow and we would go up there every weekend to ride. It felt like going to the Alps, just so much bigger. I met you, Scotty Stevens and Austen Granger, and that’s where our crew first formed.

For the last three years of high school I would go to public school in Massachusetts, and in the fall and in the winter, I’d go to Mount Snow. I’m really thankful my dad believed in me. He saw me win some contests when I was a kid and then he was down. If I didn’t go [to Mount Snow], I’d be selling drugs or doing something stupid. But, the fact that I was able to go up there and meet you guys and snowboard all the time shaped my future.

Dude, I used to be able to do McTwists Kier [Dillon] style. We would ride tons of halfpipe, even gates occasionally, and jumps. I think it does help growing up to build those fundamentals, but I was in this Green Mountain series with Danny Davis, Michael Goldschmidt, Niko Cioffi, Lucas Magoon, Shayne Pospisil, Louie Vito and Jack Mitrani. I would never make nationals, they would always beat me, so I rebelled and did rails because I was better at that.

Did your head coach tell you that you have no shot at being a professional snowboarder?
He pretty much said that to me. Probably. I didn’t have a lot of support from the people there. But I was also a complete dipshit—I smoked, I was partying and doing drugs. It’s good that I peaked early in my partying career. I peaked hard and it’s been a steady decline since.

In high school I filmed a video part for It Ain’t Easy, with you, Scott [Stevens], and Granger, for EPI Films. And that’s when we got the squad and started filming. I learned a lot from watching how you and Scott operate. Scott showed me that it’s cool to be a snowboard nerd. He was watching every video that came out, he knew every trick that somebody did, he knew every pro. Through osmosis I started doing that too, and it focused me more on snowboarding than being a dingus.

I got my first contract from Dragon, then I got a two-page spread in Future Snowboarding from a park shoot and got my first check—a photo incentive check for $200. That was huge for me. Then I won a couple of contests—I did well at the East Coast Invitational, and I won an am contest at Copper Mountain [CO].

I was on Academy Snowboards at the time. Java [Fernandez], the marketing manager, put on this contest and I won three grand, which was the most amount of money I had seen. Java then got a job at Salomon Snowboards and put me on there. He was the first person to really believe in me. He gave me the opportunity to film for TransWorld’s Get Real. That was my first part in a major video, but Chad Otterstrom and Lane Knaack had taken me under their wing and taught me to shoot the year before. That meant so much as a young kid. I’ll always look up to those guys for being good snowboarders and even better human beings.

Back then, videos were how you got your break. With Get Real, I was like, “This is my shot.” I put everything I had into that part. Every night I was obsessing over it, writing every trick down, writing ideas down. I quit drinking for the winter. I had a minute-and-a-half of footage by November. By Christmas, I had 40 shots. Once Get Real came out, sponsors were down.

You were wearing a pair of pants that looked like LRG pants and then LRG hooked you up.

I was into the LRG rasta back pocket—I bought some knockoffs at a westside store and snowboarded in some XXXL LRG jeans in that part. I couldn’t believe it when they started their snow program and I got on with them. We got to travel around with musicians. Meeting Gucci Mane was the highlight.

Everything happened quick. Jed [Anderson] and I designed a rail board called the “Salomonder” and we both got pro models. The board did well, and we were able to continue the series for seven or eight years.

When a company wants to put your name on a product, it’s important to take that opportunity and do as good a job as you can. I’m beyond thankful to have my name on a snowboard, boots and outerwear over the years. I owe so much to snowboarding and am forever in debt—not only for the products, but for the people I’ve met over the years and the experiences I’ve been able to have, the places it’s taken me. Through ups and downs, I’m beyond grateful for everything snowboarding has given me.

In snowboarding and skateboarding, partying is common ground. I love partying. From when I was 15-21, it was nonstop partying. Pat Moore didn’t drink from when he was 18-21. He filmed for [Forum Snowboards’] Video Gangs, the Grenade video—he was the same age as me and a super pro. We were just trying to figure it out. I admired the fact he didn’t drink. I was like, “How do you do that—I struggle with it.”

After Get Real, my routine became quit for a few months in the winter, then party like a maniac all summer. I did that for eight years straight. Every year I would lose more control. I started doing more drugs, hard drugs, drinking heavily to the point where I didn’t like who I was looking at in the mirror. So, I gave up drinking at the end of 2016, got completely sober, and I feel better than I ever have in my entire life.

My dad was a train wreck until he quit drinking, then he turned his life around. I knew I was going to need to do it sometime. I was scared, I didn’t know what to do. I bet Alex Andrews $300 that I could quit drinking for a year. The bet was a great excuse. The bet was an easier way to explain quitting than the real reason I stopped: that I was an alcoholic, a drug addict, and I was miserable. I made it a year, I still wasn’t super happy, and I started going to AA—that helped me figure out why I was so unhappy. It helped to be around people I could relate to. I felt isolated and alone before that.

At the end of the day, a lot of people struggle with drugs and alcohol. You can go sober if you need to. A lot of people can go out and drink and have a good time and it’s not problematic, but if you struggle with drugs or alcohol abuse, you’re not alone. Don’t be afraid to reach out to me on Instagram, or other folks who go through the same thing. It’s hard socially to stop drinking, and it’s not something I’d push on anyone, but it’s what works for me. Don’t feel alone if you’re struggling. There are a lot of other people out there that can help.

You’ve filmed a lot of video parts, but it seems like you’ve found a way to do your own thing too.

I gravitate toward what is feeling right at the time. I did the video part thing for years, did the X Games Real Snow—which is a major highlight—and then we came up with the cabin. That was a passion project. People seemed inspired by it, so we gravitated to that this past winter.

TJ Schneider was doing online stuff at that time, but the online part wasn’t a standard thing yet.

When you film a lot of video parts, it starts to feel redundant, so you want to get away from the norm. I was linking with the Deja Vu crew a lot—we went to Sweden and a few other places. Then I linked with the Absinthe crew for backcountry stuff with Bode [Merrill]. Matt Roberge filmed most of that and then Justin Myers was the one who edited that all together and he did a really good job.

At that point I didn’t realize that it was a step forward, but looking back, it was. Now everything is web or Instagram.

Social media is a necessary evil for what we do. It gives you this instant high—you post something, get excited, get instant gratification from likes and comments, a little endorphin spike. Then it’s pushed down the feed 24 hours later and pretty much forgotten about for the rest of time. Whereas when you film a video part, it’s something that can stand the test of time. It’s more like an album that you can play over and over. When I have kids, I’ll show them a video part, but I’m not gonna pull up an Instagram clip from 2016.

There’s no cellphone service at the cabin. We go up there two to three days at a time and work. My general level of stress and happiness is way better when compared to being in the city—up there, your interactions are a lot more authentic. People aren’t looking at their phone, trying to film something for social media to put on their story and get instant gratification. It’s a more authentic experience when you enjoy the moment.

Alex [Andrews] found it. When he showed me, we were both immediately like, “This is it.” The workload would be overwhelming for one person, but having someone else makes it manageable. Alex is the most hard-working guy I know. People get scared of these big projects, but we don’t give ourselves enough credit for what we’re capable of doing. Thinking back, the times when it was the biggest struggle, the worst experience—hot, sweaty, in a dirt pit, building a concrete skatepark—my favorite memories of the whole process is the struggle.

It’s given me a different type of gratification from anything I’ve done in snowboarding. It’s a personal achievement. It’s not as hard as you think. We didn’t really know what we were doing, but we went for it and it worked out. Everybody else can do that too; they just gotta get past the fear of doing it and good things will happen.

When we started pouring the concrete skatepark, we were introduced to a guy named Rob Pikus, who has a concrete company. He said, “You can put it on my tab, you’ll get a much better rate because I buy so much volume—my price per yard is a lot cheaper.” When we got done, I said, “I wanna square up for the concrete,” and he said, “It’s all good, I’m gonna take care of it.”

I pretty much started crying—I had already budgeted $20,000 on concrete. I asked if there was anything I could do for him, maybe a logo for his company in the skatepark and he said, “I don’t want anything from you guys. I just think what you guys are doing is cool and I want to be a part of it.”

Unconditional giving—that is the ultimate inspiration. He did that for me, and I want to do that for other people now. It’s got a ripple effect, paying it forward. We took this leap of faith and when you dive into the right path, things can just work out. When the passion pours out of you about anything, people generally gravitate toward it.

Looking at where we started from and where we’re at—Bode Merrill, Rider of the Year, he was the goofiest bastard I’ve ever seen. Scott continues to blow minds. You’ve transitioned from snowboarding into a business owner [with Dang Shades]. Granger took a different route and he’s a master chef. As you get older, we’ve being doing the snowboard thing so long, maybe you can’t go snowboarding one day—you’ve gotta pay bills, mow the lawn, do some life shit. When you’re a kid, all you do is think about snowboarding and skateboarding and that’s it—you obsess.

As I’ve gotten older, I’m now trying to get back to that state. Sometimes I put everything else aside, let my life fall apart, and just focus on snowboarding. When I go back to that 12- or 15-year-old part of myself where I’m an obsessed little nerd, life’s good. When you start thinking about the patio furniture you gotta buy, the addition on your house, whatever the baloney is you gotta do as an adult—you gotta forget about that sometimes and go back to being a little kid. Then you’re happy.

Photo Caption: “A movie project is only as good as every rider in the movie. Chris Grenier is always down to be a foreman at a spot, and it’s no mistake that every project Chris jumps on turns into gold. He will work for the whole crew just as hard as he works for himself, as seen here in Quebec City, QC, filming for Pepper.” Photo: Ethan “E-Stone” Fortier

The Snowboarder's Journal - frequency 16.1

The Ripple Effect: Chris Grenier Pays It Forward

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