LEFT TO RIGHT “I have never met a pro snowboarder who is more determined than Jess. She made her mark for years on the street and then wanted to take it to the backcountry. This was my first-ever shoot with Jess and she was keen to hit every single pillow we encountered. The light was firing, and she didn’t stop once for a break all day.” Photo: Daniel Stewart “Jess teaching her comrades, aka The North Face women’s snowboard team, how to quarter a log with a chainsaw and then split it like a boss on a trip to Retallack, BC. In order to chop wood like a boss, you must first chop wood like a beginner. It’s not about strength or how hard you can swing, it’s about how little effort you can exert while having the most effective result. And how many lumberjacks you can impress on your Tinder dates.” Photo: Leslie Hittmeier Do you feel like that’s your role in snowboarding right now, just giving opportunities? Or do you still have a drive to step up your own riding at this point? In 2015 I filmed what I thought was my most well rounded part ever, for the Snowboarder movie [SFD]. It was everything everyone expect-ed: a bigger jump than the year before, a bigger cab 5, a bigger gap to this, better slams, more tricks, new tricks. But I never got much of a reaction. I was like, “I did all that and nobody gave a shit?” Something switched in my head. I thought, “There’s nothing that I can do that is going to surprise people anymore, and it’s only really going to cost me physically and mentally.” I know that I can still do crazy shit if I wanted to, but it’s not going to make as much of an impact as helping other people do surprising things and show their full potential. Do I feel driven to still push myself? After being beat down for so long it doesn’t seem worth it. I wanna push myself in other ways besides just jumping off of dumb shit. Sometimes I wonder, “Is there even a place for someone like me to get paid to be a pro snowboarder if I’m not still bleeding for it daily?” But I need to stop thinking like that. I think I’ve earned my place here. I’ve bled enough. There are dudes that do it. They might not be the most progressive riders anymore, but they’re still on the pro team, showing younger riders the spots, how to film and operate in the streets or the backcountry. Some transition to marketing roles, but there are plenty of pro riders even into their late 40s, including a few women. Of course, I want to do this as long as I can. I always want to make more of an impact than just the one I’m paid to make. However I can do that, whether it’s filmmaking or helping people tell their story, that’s what I want to do. I never enjoyed snowboarding before—I en-joyed knowing that I landed a trick, knowing that I put a part together. But I never let myself think, “This is fun.” You might say, “That’s such a sellout mentality.” But it came out of necessity because I didn’t have time to have fun, just like I didn’t have time to casually wait in the T-bar lineup on the glacier all summer when I was trying to make it. I had two days a week to go out and give ’er. Now I’m like, “Maybe I deserve to have some fun and enjoy snowboarding.” I’d agree with that. I’d like to explore. I really like snowmobiling. In the past, I’d tell my spon-sors, “I’m filming rails in the [BC] Interior,” and I’d sled on the good days without telling them, maybe get a shot on a step-down and then send it at the end of the year, as if it just happened somehow along the way. I do feel like I’m making more of an impact with what I’m doing now than filming a crazy video part that’s completely self-centered, that people watch once and forget about. I think the companies that I ride for can also benefit more off what I’m doing now than what I was doing before. I always wanted to be the person to do something that no one else would do, to do the work that no one else would be willing to put in, or to do something nuts like use my own savings to help other people out so they can take my job—to do the right thing at any cost. I just want to make waves, add something positive to the mix. And I think losing Mark 7 was a wake-up call: This is going to end at some point. Not just snowboarding, but your life will end—everyone’s lives will. And what are you doing with it? I spent so much time thinking about the last moments that he was alive, wondering what he was thinking about. Wondering what I will be thinking about when my time comes. I want to know that I did the right things, the best that I could, and that I did something useful with my time here, something useful to help others. Because if you only help yourself throughout your life, that’ll be a pretty lonely thing to think about right before you die. 7 Jess’ boyfriend, Mark Dickson, passed away in 2014 after being hit by a pickup truck while riding his dirt bike. Her relationship with Mark is the subject of a forthcoming movie about Jess’ life. JESS KIMURA 083
The Snowboarder's Journal The Snowboarder's Journal 18.4: Page 83
