Okay, picture this. It's April. The sky is so blue it looks photoshopped. The sun is doing its absolute most. And I'm standing on top of a halfpipe in the Swiss Alps wearing… a hoodie. Not a jacket. Not three layers and a neck warmer that smells like last season. A HOODIE.
If you've been reading my journal for a while, you know I'm usually dressed like a very determined marshmallow. So this was a big moment for me, fashion-wise and emotionally.
Welcome to spring riding at Corvatsch, just up the road from St. Moritz, where I spent the last days of the season working on one thing and one thing only: 360s in the halfpipe.
Why Corvatsch in Spring Is Basically Cheating
Corvatsch sits high up above the lakes of the Engadin valley, which means the snow hangs around way longer than in most places. While half of Europe was already putting away their boards and getting their flip-flops out, we were still riding a proper pipe.
Spring snow is a whole mood. In the morning the walls are firm and fast (respect them, they will humble you). By late morning everything softens up and turns into that buttery, forgiving snow where you feel like a superhero. That's the sweet spot for trying new stuff, because falling hurts less. Science. Probably.
Every morning started the same way: board on my feet, backpack on, cruising into the park like I owned the place. (I did not own the place. But the vibes were very main character.)
Training With iPod (Yes, THE iPod)
My coach is Iouri Podladtchikov, aka iPod, and I train with him all winter long here in Switzerland. If you don't know him: Olympic halfpipe gold medalist, the guy who made the YOLO flip famous, and also, very casually, the person who watches every single run I do. No big deal. (It is a big deal. I'm being cool about it in writing only.) Corvatsch was our end-of-season mission together, one last push before the snow melts.
You might remember him from when he got me rolling around on four wheels in Skateboarding at Laax Freestyle Academy with Iouri. Turns out his coaching style works the same on snow: calm, super precise, and somehow he always spots the one tiny thing you're doing wrong that you were sure nobody noticed.
The Mission: 360s in the Pipe
Spinning a 360 on a jump is one thing. Spinning a 360 in the halfpipe is a completely different animal, because you take off from a wall going UP, rotate, and then have to land back on that same wall going DOWN. Your brain does not love this idea at first.
Here's what we worked on, lap after lap after lap:
- Speed first, spin second. No speed, no height, no time to rotate. iPod had me focus on pumping through the transitions before I even thought about spinning.
- Wind-up and patience. My classic mistake is starting the spin too early, like I'm in a hurry to catch a bus. The rotation should come from the takeoff, not from me panic-twisting my shoulders on the lip.
- Head leads, body follows. Wherever you look, you go. So I had to actually commit to looking around for the landing instead of peeking at the sky like a confused pigeon.
- Spotting the landing. Finding the wall again mid-air is the magic moment. Once you see it, you can stomp it.
Did I fall? Obviously. Did I slide down the pipe on my butt in a very elegant way? Also yes. Did a few of them come around clean and land smooth on the wall? YES, and it felt amazing.
Why This Felt Extra Special
A couple of months ago I honestly wasn't sure when I'd be riding pipe again. If you missed it, I wrote all about it in Sidelined by My Back and The Road Back: What Recovery Really Looks Like.
So going from getting back in the halfpipe to spinning 360s in a hoodie in the sunshine a few weeks later? That's the kind of progress that makes all the boring rehab exercises worth it. (Mostly. The planks are still evil.)
End of Season Grind = Next Season Glow-Up
End-of-season training is underrated. Everyone's tired, the lifts are about to close, and it's tempting to just do chill laps and take selfies. But this is exactly when you can lock in new tricks while your legs still remember the whole winter. Whatever you learn now is what you start next season with.
That said, I did also take some selfies. I'm working hard, not unwell.
Also, full honesty: by the end of each day I was not a superhero anymore. I was a very tired puddle in a hoodie, staring out of the bus window on the way home, thinking about 360s and pasta. Mostly pasta.
What's Next: Skate, Then Asia!
Now that the snow is melting, I'm heading back to Spain to swap the snowboard for a skateboard. Barcelona is where this whole story started (read Adios Barcelona, Hola Laax if you want the origin story), and skating is the perfect way to keep my balance, my spins and my confidence going over the summer.
And THEN… the big one. A 3-month trip that goes like this:
🇯🇵 Japan – hopefully more airbag sessions to throw spins without the scary landings. My last trip was wild, see Airbag Training in Japan at Saitama Quest.
🇮🇩 Indonesia – home! Family, food and probably way too much surfing. Last time looked like this.
🇳🇿 New Zealand – chasing winter down under, just like in Snowboarding Downunder in Cardrona.
(Yes, I know New Zealand is not technically in Asia. My homeschool geography teacher is me, and I'm allowing it. If you want to know how school works when your classroom moves every few weeks, I explained it in Balancing Pro Snowboarding & Home Schooling.)
Thank You, Corvatsch
Blue skies, soft walls, a legendary coach and a hoodie that will forever be known as my lucky pipe hoodie. Corvatsch, you were the perfect way to end the season.
Next stop: concrete. Then the other side of the world. Stay tuned, and if you don't want to miss anything, follow along on Instagram or check out more training stories in my journal.
See you on the next lap!
— Zazi 🏂
PS. Follow the adventures of Zazi, Snowboard Girl & Indonesian Model, on Instagram: Click Here!
