From First Tracks to Final Shots

The snowboard season is closing out, not with a bang, but with that familiar quiet shift. Boards get waxed and leaned in the corner. This year didn’t hand out much in terms of snow so I had travel to Europe. Thin coverage, inconsistent storms, the kind of winter that forces you to appreciate every turn. But that’s never really been the point. I still chased fifty days. That number’s arbitrary to most people, but to me it’s a ledger. A way to measure whether I showed up for the life I said I wanted.

Mammoth Lakes became the proving ground again. Annual trip. Same intention, different conditions every time. Test gear. Get miles. Stay uncomfortable enough to stay honest. There’s something about the Eastern Sierra that strips things down. Cold mornings, long drives, weather that doesn’t care about your plans.

In between riding, there were camps on BLM land. Quiet ones. The kind where the fire burns low and the stars do most of the talking. Coffee off a Jetboil, boots still damp from the day before, and enough silence to hear your own thoughts without distraction. That’s where a lot of this gets sorted out.

I spent time shooting, too. Not casually. Intentionally. Dialing things in ahead of hunting season. There’s a rhythm to it that feels familiar, not far removed from snowboarding. Repetition, adjustment, patience. You don’t rise to the moment, you fall back on what you’ve practiced.

The best part, though, wasn’t the riding or the shooting. It was the people. It always is. Conversations in parking lots. Chairlift exchanges. That’s the part you can’t plan, and the part that sticks the longest.

There’s a line I’ve carried with me for years, the idea that you just keep moving forward. No overthinking it. No waiting for perfect conditions. Just forward. This season followed that rule. Even when the snow didn’t cooperate, the experience did.

Now the shift is here. Snowboards out, hunting gear in. New knife drops coming, a mix of everyday carry and blades built for the field. Tools that come from actually living this cycle, not just designing for it. That’s the whole point behind Grit Knives. It’s not a brand built in a vacuum. It’s built in parking lots, campsites, mountains, and long drives between them.

Snowboarding has always been part of that foundation. It’s not separate from hunting or building the business, it feeds it. Show up, put in the time, and stay open to whatever comes with it. It wasn’t a great winter on paper. But on the ground, it was exactly what it needed to be.

Now it’s time to hunt.